Why we must stop vilifying our illnesses

HELLO & WELCOME!

I am a passionate personal development coach and spiritual advisor with a long history of over-coming and thriving with chronic illness.

I am also a visionary who encourages radical authenticity and promotes free-thinking.

Read at your own discretion, trigger warning always in effect. Enjoy.

A vivid memory of mine occurring in a flash, as most memories do. The lasting effects of these micro-moments often have intrinsic value and can often penetrate the memory in a way where there’s no distinction whether it was real or imagined. Although my life as I see it now does appear more dream-like and created and less determined or random, this moment stopped me in my tracks and penetrated my spirit.

“Brian will not be coming back this year, he needs a heart transplant,”

The scene was high school, 10th grade for me. Just an average awkward girl, unbeknownst of herself and internal creator ability walking the halls probably trying to escape during Algebra. It was just the 3 of us in the hallway at the time. The guidance counselor, the principal, and myself to witness this event. The timing perfect to hear what I needed to hear.

I recall passing them as I heard, stopping and looking back at them, and not merely ignoring the penetrable statement, but taking time to process it. I thought, wow, a heart transplant. I believe it was one of my first experiences with this terminology and definitely the first time I considered what that would be like and the simultaneous fear and uncertainty news like that must feel like to whoever Brian was.

This all took place in about 5 seconds. But would forever change my life and in ways I couldn’t even have imagined at that time. In hindsight, was this my first encounter or clue into a deeper aspect of my future? Of course at that time, I had no consciousness regarding barely myself yet alone what may be unfolding all had meaning.

It’s the most common languaging we have societally to first and foremost apologize when we hear of bad news or a new illness diagnosis. As a recovering people pleaser, apologizing became something to me was second nature. I might as well have apologized for being born with how small and insignificant I was trying to be. Coming from a broken home, the awkward perfect day out would consist of ways to try to make myself unseen. Gaining my secret pleasure in observation mode seeing others having fun rather that to participate myself.

Getting sick was something I never expected and being told I was going into kidney failure wasn’t something I could hide forever. I tried as feelings of confusion, guilt, shame, embarrassment, and anger at times took over my 25 year old body. After 5 years suffering with an autoimmune disorder without reprieve from modern medicine albeit keeping me alive, I had to turn within on another level if I wanted to survive, physically and especially mentally.

Already an established yogi, (a profound healing tool for me), I had already understood the implications that illness had on both the body and the mind. What had to develop was the spiritual aspects of understanding. With the severity of the illness, death was something that I needed to not only face, but process and discover what death was to me and begin a relationship in case we were to be united.