sacred fatigue

I'm not trying to be twee with the title, "Sacred Fatigue." I mean, it sounds so desperate. So, 'look at me being all pious and serious.' I used to be pious and serious. A Fundamentalist Christian Camp during one's formative years will do that to a person. Coupled with a Catholic upbringing, it's been hard to shed notions of eternal damnation and being born a sinner. Jesus. What a joke. (Wait, I don't mean that Jesus was a joke. He was a pretty cool customer in fact, all love and hard core compassion. I meant, Jesus as in "Good Grief! As if! Pffffffffft!')

But, in a subconscious shout out to my Catholic roots, I am pretty sinny these days. I am very judgemental about people I see talking about 'attracting,' and 'manifesting,' and 'accepting' and 'keeping a gratitude journal' and 'taking a deep breath' and and and. Like doing any one of these things is going to solve the problem of being human. No actual offence to human life. It's not a problem per se to be human. It truly is a gift and a wacky and wonderful experience. But, it's certainly not an easy ride. It's particularly messy what with all the emotions and minds and having to, you know, interact with others.

One of my teachers recently said that we only reject in others what we have rejected in ourselves. I suppose what I am rejecting is their seemingly naive insistence that there is indeed something wrong with us and that whatever it is that is wrong with us can be solved. That if we just did x, y and z, we would be fixed, healed, whole. That perhaps there would be no more suffering. The prickly thing is, this is exactly what I have done for the past 30 years. For whatever the reasons; my karmic load, this body mind complex, my particular environmental upbringing, whatever, I also thought I needed to fundamentally fix myself. I did 'attract' and 'manifest' and 'accept' and 'take a deep breath.' (I kept a gratitude journal but it was in my head. I was too lazy to write it down.) And, well, none of them solved the problem of being me. Because, apparently, there is no problem to solve.

So, back to sacred fatigue. I essentially spent the past three years struggling with a chronic condition, ME/CFS (see I broke myself). I still have it, only I'm better able to manage it these days so am feeling strong enough to write again. In fact, I'm feeling strong enough to read, think, work(ish) and potentially interact again. This last one is hard for me. Something about being in community which brings up all my own shit. It's easy to live when I don't have to rub up against my own perceived shortcomings. I contentedly putter around my house and garden with my husband and two dogs, rarely in contact with the world beyond my tiny street. 'Consciousness comes from contact,' I once heard at a Buddhist retreat. Word. Being around others always makes me a little weird. Or a lot weird. Mostly in my own brain. And sometimes outwardly, generally when I'm with my family. Sorry family!

Anyway. It's a real mindfuck not being able to get out of bed, do groceries, watch tv, read, hang out with friends and family (even if it makes me weird[er]). Basically not being able to live in the way that I had envisioned. (My vision board certainly did not include a debilitating chronic condition. Although, the tree I drew on it did look an awful lot like a nuclear mushroom cloud...See, I'm doing it again! Believing that the vision board - my collage and feeble sketches - are what makes my life unfold as it does. Embarrassing).

I feel like I have been on Pause while the world, bonkers as it is, has kept on turning. But the past three years of confusion and pain and depression, have also been life. And this human life, all of it, is sacred.

Apparently.