Spiritual

I Don’t Know (and it’s okay)

By: Jana Greene

I don’t watch the news. At all.

I used to think that it made me a horribly unpatriotic American if I didn’t know EVERYTHING going on nationally and globally. I now know that it only makes me a person protecting her fragile mental health. PERIOD. If it’s earth-shattering, it will crawl across my Facebook feed, and I will deal with the anxiety as it presents.

“I don’t know” is one of my favorite phrases these days.

As a former fundamentalist, I also used to think I had all the answers…. the important ones anyway. It was my security blanket; all I’ve ever known. But having shed that blanket, I can see how threadbare it was. I took it to bed with me every night because surely to know what’s going on is certainty, right?

“Fundamentalist” means that a belief it rooted in something so obviously true, it’s fundamental.

“I don’t know” was the antithesis of faith and the admission of weakness, back in the day. Thinking you know the purpose of your life and everyone else’s makes you cocky like that – demanding that no questions are asked, and no boat is rocked.

Knowing facts about people, places, things, and the state of the world has nothing to do with our primary purpose…

Which is to love.

Knowing is collecting “facts” with which to make judgments. Making judgements is central to our survival as a species but is useless when determining whether or not to invest in other humans. Above all else, we need connection; to be understood beyond “head knowledge.”

Knowing is not loving, you see.

“But what if they are all so WRONG?” I mean LOOK AT THIS MESS!

Yup. That’s a mess right there. Everywhere. Messy, messy, messy.

These days, I have no earthly idea what the hell is happening. If I peek onto a news site, I regret it almost immediately. I can’t handle what is going on in the Ukraine, although I pray for the people regularly. I can’t handle the imagery, the crushing sadness of it. I can barely handle what’s up in my own body some days.

Here’s the truth: It’s not that I don’t care. Empaths care entirely too much about what’s happening. I’ll say it: My fragile mental health simply cannot hande a constant stream of doom and despair. I absorb like a sponge and it’s really hard to wring myself back out when I “go there.”

“I don’t know” comes in handy in a myriad of ways.

I don’t know anymore where the world is going. I used to believe in prophesies of old, but they are awfully dark, and my mind is already prone to going dark places already. I have a tendency to wallow in my dark places, so I don’t need extra help gathering fuel for the fire. I’d rather be light and salt to this crazy place, and I’ve learned that if I’m a sniveling Chicken Little screaming “the sky is falling!” whilst running in circles, it behooves no one. Sniveling Chicken Little used to be my spirit animal.

I don’t know why I’m chronically sick and in pain all the time. It certainly doesn’t seem fair. I’ve read everything about my conditions. I know ALLTHETHINGS about it. It doesn’t help me put one foot in front of the other on hard days. That’s LOVE, baby. Not knowledge. Not fear.

I’ve shaken my fist at the Almighty. I’ve had cross words with God. All because “I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” But in my unknowing, I don’t blame God, bargain with God, turn my back on God anymore. Because even though I don’t know and understand the why’s of it, I don’t believe it hinders his great love for me at all.

I’ll go so far as to say, I wasn’t ready to surrender to LOVE until I was ready to say, “I don’t know.” And it’s a learning curve every day.

It doesn’t bother me that I don’t know things. But I hope Love never stops revealing itself to me, in its purest, unknowable glory.

You shall know the truth, and it shall set you free. And the truth is Love only. Pure and simple.

And if you are an extreme feeler too, this is your sign to step away from the media madness.

Blessed be friends.

Would you Want a Diagnosis if there were no Cure? (The answer is “yes”)

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By: JANA GREENE

What good is getting an accurate diagnosis, if there’s no cure? A woman I follow on Social media posed this question and it got me thinking. She also has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

Knowledge is power, and it explained a whole lifetime of things.

Every day of second grade, I had to spend afternoons with a tutor after school because I held my pencil “wrong.” I physically cannot hold it that way. My fingers wouldn’t work, still don’t.

I’ve had bad migraines all my life.

I cut myself constantly with knives in the kitchen, even as a kid. I’ve managed to cut myself with safety scissors.

Buttons are the devil.

Physical Education class was a nightmare. I kept getting injured doing the simplest things, and “sat out” many times, resulting “F’s” in cthat class. Turned ankles. Sprains. PE teachers are MERCILESS. I was fussed at for “not trying.” Or worse – “faking.” Id love to look them up and let them know what’s up.

I thought everyone got dizzy tying their shoes, every time.

Having a super shitty immune function, was sick constantly. Wouldn’t find out until adulthood I have immune deficiency.

I was in some degree of pain at all times – every joint. As far back as I can remember. Of course as the laxity in my joints increases with age, the pain gets worse.

My ankles are so weak, I broke my right one in two places from standing getting up to pee in thre middle of the night. Just torqued it wrong. I was so accustomed to pain, I walked on it for 11 days anyway before going to the doctor.

I always required more anesthesia, which is a redhead thing and an EDS thing.

There was a reason my body cannot do autonomic functions adequately – tempature regulation, blood pressure – just can’t handle it. The fluctuations that were such a mystery all my life make sense.

The hyper-mobility made for some good “party tricks” – contortionist stuff with knees and elbows, etc., but I had no idea it was a medical issue ad a young adult.

Knowing what was wrong – even though there is no cure and no really effective treatment – was momentous.

It means the difference between managing symptoms with some chance of alleviating some of the severity. It means the enlightenment of your own body, after feeling like you were made defectively.

I’m not defective. Just sick. And that’s okay.

It’s gonna have to be.

Poetry

How to Spend Time with God (spoiler alert: Just BE) – a little poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

“What’s the best way to spend time with God?”

Was the question asked of me.

Which seemed odd

Because my God

Is never an absentee.

I thought the right devotional,

Holy coffee at first morning light,

Following all the rules and laws,

Was a formula for winning the fight.

But now God and I,

Thick as thieves,

Do life together every day.

Every breath is spending time,

Plain speak is how I pray.

I hear his voice in the laughter

Of my beloved friends and kin,

I hear him in the cries,

Of suffering women and men.

He cooks with me in the kitchen,

He follows me to the shop,

We have constant conversations,

Impossible to stop.

A reverie of souls,

Because we’re ONE, you see.

I cannot be away from him,

And he won’t stay away from me.

I need no formal reason

To label time with my Source.

He’s in every place,

Runs every race,

By my side, of course.

Here’s how to spend time with God

If you’re asking me:

Take a deep and healing breath

And just manage to BE.

Spiritual

10 Insomnia Thoughts so Deep, You’ll Forget how to Fall Back Asleep

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By: JANA GREENE

Good night / day, friends. What do you think about when you can’t sleep?

It is 4:30 in the morning, and I got up to pee about 2 long hours ago.

I am still awake because THOUGHTS. Here is a short list of things my mind decides to entertain in the stone-fold middle of the night:

1. I worry about my kids, especially in the wee hours of the morn. I worry for them individually and as a whole. I worry that I worry too much. I worry that I don’t worry enough.

2. A dear friend just lost another beloved pet yesterday, and my heart breaks for her, my own heart still grieving my special Catsby. Oh the loss, loss, loss of the past three years, across the board. The loss of people, animals, ways of life.

3. Why did I ever think God moved Heaven and Earth for me to get a good parking space, while children in the world are starving. SMH.

4. The intelligence of every living thing. This subject weaves itself in my waking and sleeping life. I dream of vast galaxies and our place in them. I ponder much on the minutiae too. Life-creating mitochondria. Every cell in every tree, leaf, and flower is bursting with evidence of divinity. Every single one of us is life made of a zillion pieces of life, the whole cosmos a part of us too.

5. We have no idea what lives in the ocean, really. And that’s part of the allure. Damn, I miss swimming in the ocean.

6. I miss my mother-in-law. Really miss her. She was really something special. I miss having a “mom.”

7. How much pain will I be able to stand before I can’t stand it any more with this stupid disease? Everyone has a limit; not knowing where mine lies can be scary.

8. Estrangement is the weirdest thing ever, but boundaries are the best thing ever. And that makes for industrial-grade emotional f*ckery.

9. Religion is the opiate of the masses, they say, and I’ve officially OD’d. Just LOVE for me going forward, thanks. I’m over labels. Check please!

10. Feeling long-expired pangs of social angst anew about that one time I was unintentionally rude to someone (but I was just socially overwhelmed.) Oh, and the approximately 7 million additional times I was socially awkward. OOF.

That’s just a sampling. I wonder what it’s like to have insomnia thoughts like: “I need to get the oil changed,” or “I think we are out of detergent.” What’s that even LIKE?

And so I’m finally tired now again, feeling the heavy cream of sleepiness pour over me. My mind eases, I feel God’s comfort. I open my palms in a physical relinquishing of worries before closing my eyes…

Great. I have to pee again. 😂