I was struggling with something called anticipitory nausea. Its a thing. Maybe you have had it. This is how it rolled out for me: when a thought of the hospital; the infusion room; a smell would come into my mind I would get nauseous. I knew it had gotten a little out of control when I was driving down a country road and a nurse (with whom I had had such lovely conversations and was so grateful for) came into my head and I thought I was going to vomit out my car window.
So I brought it to my therapist. (side note: I don't usually give direct instructions, but here is one: never ever feel ashamed to seek out, visit, call a therapist. For anything. These people are rare gems.) After some tears, she invited me to get in touch with the nausea in my body. At first I resisted, but I knew I wanted to work with this feeling. I was still in the middle of the forest after all and I wanted to be free of this added burden and, because I could see in technicolor the direct link between the mind and body with this one, I went for it. So I got in touch. It began in my belly. Uppp, then it kind of moved around to my back. Oh, there is my sacrum. Feel it there. She asked me to see if it had any quality or color to it. All that I could come up with was that it felt like weakness. Did it move? It sure did. Right up into my sternum and into my arms. Weakness. Fragility. Yuck.
And then, and I can't even remember how we got to this, but I thought, "well, I think I can have it travel down my legs instead. Down my legs and out my feet perhaps."
I could picture myself standing to help with the downward movement. We both got excited about this and she affirmed that this seemed like a good direction because the legs are strong and have much more muscle to tolerate this kind of feeling. And for me it felt like the feet were open to having this feeling move right through them and out into the receiving ground. And the ground, as forgiving and generous and vast as it is, would hardly even notice.
So I left the office lighter and with the hope that comes with revived purpose of practice. I started visualizing grounding yoga poses and consulted with some yoga friends. Their language supported my practice which was more often in my mind than on an actual mat. And, of course, I practiced when the thoughts came. Thoughts are so sneaky; how you can be at the kitchen sink and although you are smelling lavender dish soap, the thought/smell of rubbing alcohol comes into your mind and BOOM! But now it was an opportunity to practice.
Then the big day came when I actually had to practice right there at the hospital. My mantra became: through the feet; through the feet. I stood instead of sitting in the waiting rooms. I repeated the mantra. And I can't tell you that I didn't have any nausea bubble up, but I had the confidence that comes from some sense of control. I knew that I could redirect the feeling if I needed to and it would pass more quickly. And oh how grateful I felt for my dear legs and feet. In some sense, I had become disconnected from these parts of my body through this; so much emphasis on healing my chest and arm.
Through this winding journey of discomfort, I began to link my body back together.
