Well, I’m headed home. Surgery went well. Now to chill for a bit at home whining about my sore ribs. Before I left the hospital I had some time to reflect on the experience. First, thanks to everyone for all the love and support. We felt it. I felt it. I was carried by it. And I really mean that. There was just a sense of being held. Everything is energy and I’m telling you, when you are sending love or light or positive vibes or prayer or whatever you want to call it… it “works”.
Now, I don’t personally believe that prayer convinces a SuperBeing God to intervene on your behalf who (it just so happens) also chooses NOT to intervene when some kindergartners are murdered at school by machine gun. When I say it works, I’m talking about the mysterious, sub-atomic exchange of our power. Of our focus. Of our intention. Of our energetic alignment. We’re talking quantum entanglement, physics, and a host of other scientific realities I barely understand. This incredible energetic universe is mind blowing and we know next to nothing about it. (See this book, this book & this book for more)
I had been meditating a lot before we drove to the hospital and during one of them, my Elk, who shows up in my mind sometimes when I meditate, was there. It was calming and reassuring. That is often what this image brings. But what was cool was that as I was headed into the O.R., just about to drop out of awareness, he showed up again. I was flooded with peace (and a veritable smorgasbord of narcotics to be sure!) and a deep sense of communal love.
In some indigenous Native American traditions, Elk is a totem for many things, but two stick out to me. The first is that Elk represent strength and survival. Lately, I have been meditating on healing and strength so this was a fun and peaceful affirmation to receive right before surgery. The other reminder was that Elk symbolize the need for trusting in and leaning on community. We can’t do everything alone and learning to embrace our interconnectedness is one of the paths to wholeness.
As they wheeled my little bed into the bright lights and the masked doctors, that mental image of this glorious Elk, slow-motion-breathing in the cold light of dawn, reminded me that I am a survivor and in this season that I can’t do on my own, I need not fear. My community will carry me. Love to you all, you know who you are.