Balance:

I am not bouncing between walls anymore, so it’s not nearly as fun.  But if I want to feel like riding on a carnival ride, I just need to turn my head…or even move my eyeballs.  But that, too, is getting more boring.  The “retinal slip” is  easing a bit.  It’s hard to explain the sensation - when I turn my eyes, the environment takes a couple beats to keep up.  When I work it too much, the shimmy starts.  

I have never fallen, but I still find myself a little tippy.  It’s as if I don’t know that I am leaning too much or tipping over; I do catch it before I fall.  

 

Like I said with grief - it isn’t time that heals, it is what we do with time that heals.  I do need to be patient and allow time, but I also need to do rehab exercises to train my brain to use my vestibular system in a new way.  Next week I meet the surgeons again and I’ll have a hearing test.  I’ll let you know how things are going after that and hope to report that I’ll be driving.

 

That was all the ‘house keeping.’  Now a peek into some of my ‘lucid’ thoughts ( I dare you to read on).  ;-)

 

LIMINAL SPACE:  The time AFTER the end of one thing, but BEFORE the beginning of another thing.

 

I studied this concept when Peter, my husband, was ending his career at Process Displays but knew there would be something else next.  That time in the middle often is labeled negatively as a desert or wandering…with no answers.  But if you understand liminal space, you can lean into that middle season with no waste.  There is purpose, learning, listening, growing, waiting, preparing, wondering…it can be incredible! (Albeit painful, too.)

 

The “what’s next” for Pete was fully realized when he was riding his bike in the mountains of Colorado.  In an instant, he was seeing Jesus face to face; Peter would never experience a liminal space again.  This is wonderful…for him.

 

But for me, it was a sudden end.  In that same instant, I entered a liminal space.  And it has been a whopper!  Eighteen months ago, though, I sensed the beginning of my next thing as I entered into Life Coach certification and created my own business, StrommenView, LLC.  Then, just as it was getting started, I got the news that I have a benign tumor growing against my brain.  Back into a liminal space I go.

 

Why am I talking about this?  Because I want you to know that I am ok!  No need to feel sorry for this girl, no need to think how tragic life must be for me.  “Widowed, and now a brain tumor?  She can’t take much more!”   I beg to differ.  I don’t live by my own strength, so I can take whatever the Lord allows.  He is the one who holds me up; It’s His job and I trust Him.  Is it easy for me?  Nope!  But it sure helps to sit in this space knowing that there is purpose, growth, preparation and wonder.

 

So, as I write this today, I sense a new beginning is coming again.  It’s more fun to choose anticipation over woeful misery.  My body will continue to heal, and so will my heart.  I won’t rush this liminal space as it needs to work itself out, and I trust the process.  

 

Lest you think I am Pollyanna, know that I am very familiar with having a dark night of the soul.  Then you call me. You send me a card or flowers. You share a meal with me.  You check in with my kids.  You roll my trash cans back to their place and remove snow from my driveway.  You rub my back and change my bandages. You watch TV with me.  You drive me to appointments, to lunch, to the airport.  You drive by my house in a birthday parade with decorated cars.  You offer to pick up whatever I need at the store.  You clean my house.  You cry with me. You pray.

 

You are my healers.  

 

Thank you.

 

~Pamela