We all have these dark corridors that exist in us and unique to each of us are the triggers that send us back into their darkness. So while this post is about my own challenges with brain fog, the lessons I learned on how to approach these dark trips with loving kindness apply to all.
From the vault: February 23, 2019
The treacherous symptom of BRAIN FOG is one of the greatest challenges to cope with in this journey of chronic illness. It makes me feel stupid, disoriented, unconfident, or insecure on an almost daily basis. And then the wall of panic hits every time I break through momentarily, see what it's made me do, and thus have to scramble to correct my mistakes.
After a stressful situation that sent me into another spiral of panic requiring a correction to be made, I lay on my bed, one hand resting on my abdomen, the other pressed over my heart.
I needed to restore peace in my body. I didn't want to carry the stress of this brain fog mishap forward into the rest of my day.
It's funny how such small and unexpected things can suddenly derail you, pulling you back to past versions of yourself that you're working to change and let go of.
Perhaps...it's a way of the universe testing you. To see if you've truly changed, truly let go, truly evolved past your old, detrimental thought and behavioural patterns. One moment you're walking forward along this path of light, only to be sucked back into the familiar but overwhelmingly dark maze of corridors that exist in all of us.
So there I was, once again drawn back into my corridors of darkness where old wounds, past traumas, deeply rooted insecurities, heated reactions to triggers, and my most self-critical voices reside.
Recognizing where I was, mindful of how I had the power to choose where I wanted to go from here. Something I would have never known before I really committed to learning meditation.
Letting go of a little of the tension and frustration as I released my breath.
I inhaled again.
And exhaled the words of the Ho'oponopono, a Hawaiian prayer and meditation that my amazing teacher from the Gilas Mindfulness Institute recently taught me.
In gentle whispers, over and over again, I breathed,
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.
I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I thank you. I love you."
I opened my eyes.
I got up. And moved on with my day.