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Lights, shadows and the body as the tree of life in the midst of the mental and physical storm
In June 2024, I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. But, as if that were not enough, grandma gave birth, as we say in Spain, or as the Anglo-Saxon saying goes, bad news always comes in threes. The tests also showed other imbalances that I had suspected for a long time, but that were never detected in routine tests.
I could go on about the mental turmoil that these results generated in me, but I will do that another time. I would have to take you on a long time travel journey to explain the odyssey that it was to discover, after years of suffering, that my sister had contracted this disease when she was still very young.
If you want to know more about this disease, here is my sister's channel, Las voces del cuerpo (viviendo el Lyme) where she explains in great detail what Lyme is and how it affects people's daily lives.
And if you are curious about the other things that inhabit my body, here are my first clinical results.
This brief explanation is the context in which this blog post is based, in which I want to tell you about how I have recently discovered a new way to balance both my mind and my body while navigating the seas of uncertainty.
Together with my work and research into the functioning of the human mind through gothic or gothic-themed artistic productions and the study of deep psychology, QiGong has the potential to become the perfect complement to this triad.
As per Wikipedia, and to give you a general idea, Qigong is the work of vital energy or the art of circulating vital energy in the most appropriate way for the purpose for which it is practised.
It is something like a martial art that combines breathing, meditation, body movements and connection with everything, both internal and external.
After my first day's session, I realised that this practice is ideal for people looking for a holistic activity in which both spirituality and physical health come together in an energising balance, and of course where there is a harmonious socialisation with both the body and the soul.
Breaking down barriers. First impressions
Whenever we start something new, we feel that mix of curiosity, and fear of having chosen the wrong activity or not fitting in. On this occasion, I have to say that reality exceeded my expectations.
After dropping the kids off at school and college early in the morning, my husband and I headed to our favourite cafeteria Sabor Diverso for breakfast. There, Alistair hung out while I attended my activity.
Since his heart condition turned him into a ticking time bomb, we spend all our time together. Although this is not economically sustainable, it is the best option for our family dynamics and our mental health. So, leaving him alone for an hour, even surrounded by people and with his best ally, the ICD that he has had implanted since 2019 (and that brought him back to life last September), always generates some stress for me.
Given the circumstances, it is not surprising that at the beginning of the activity, my eyes were racing. Behind my altered eyelids, they were fighting to stay open to be "productive" at that time of the morning. My brain, the culprit of so much ocular hustle and bustle, could not stop jumping from thought to thought. First, it questioned me: What are we doing here? Then it made me doubt: I keep hearing other noises, this is not going to work, and of course, it put me in check a couple of times with disconcerting thoughts.
Luckily, Eva's voice was very subtly sneaking through all the cracks of my brain (or should I call it ego?) until it finally silenced the intrusive thoughts. The last of the series was a business idea, to create meditation recordings with Eva to complement my annual gothic-Jungian calendar, which I have been working on since the end of last year.
Putting this idea aside required remembering conversations with my sister about my eagerness to undertake new projects. Meanwhile, breathing was my best ally to stay present. When oxygen began to travel through the liminal space between my vertebrae, my torso curved forward by my heavy shoulders and a diaphragm that I almost never open for fear of being overwhelmed by life, I could begin to visualise those imaginary roots that came out of the soles of my feet towards Mother Earth.
Eva, our Sifu (instructor or teacher in Chinese), stopped being the owner of the bio store to become a wise woman who guided us by the hand on an inner journey, where the energetic imbalances imploded and exploded with every movement.
The sharp pains that had been present in my chest for the last two days vanished along with the grey cloud over my head.
The more I visualised my roots running through the subsoil towards the underworld, I felt strong and nourished, like the gothic tree of transformation that I have been working on for some time. My arms, like the branches, flowed to the rhythm of the musical waves in the background and the firmness of Eva's voice.
Suddenly I felt connected.
Experimenting deep connection
It had been a while since I had seen all the stars of the cosmos parade like a movie in the front of my brain, something that was quite recurrent in my childhood and that has faded over the years.
More and more rooted, free and moving my body without pain, the time came to connect with all my internal organs.
During this journey, we were invited to follow the vital energy that ascended from our legs to our heads and then descended following the location of the organs. It was then that I became truly aware of the internal complexity that forms us. The heart, that destabilising protagonist in my husband's life; the lungs, which sustain us with each breath; the kidneys, which filter and purify; and my two points of greatest vulnerability: the stomach and intestines, the prelude to the last step in this journey towards my reproductive organs.
When I became aware of the absence of my left fallopian tube, lost after an ectopic pregnancy in 2011, an internal cry took hold of me. A deep sorrow and an unexpected empathy for my own amputated body emerged like a healing light. Through it, I reconnected with the internal reality of that devastating and deafening emptiness, left by the mutilation that saved my life, but that, at the same time, took with it the illusion of a new life. And there, in my internal darkness, my left ovary, now without menstrual life, seemed to hold itself, almost by magic, in the limbo of that feminine cosmos.
For the first time in a long time, I felt a deep respect for the strength of all those parts that, without realising it, form the body we inhabit.
Following the Gothic Breadcrumbs
The practice of Qigong is going hand in hand with my personal transformation process. It is guiding me towards a place of greater self-knowledge, acceptance and, above all, self-respect. Not everything that breaks into our daily hustle and bustle is aligned with our call to individuation. Even if you do not know this Jungian concept, individuation is that vital process in which we connect with all the parts of our psyche that need to be made conscious to reach the totality that we all seek, even if we do not know it.
There are many Mothers, but it is that invisible Mother, whose energy connects us with our roots, our unconscious, that allows us to face the shadows with courage. And that, Gothic friends, is priceless.
This experience reminded me of something essential: we inhabit a body that holds within it the scars of our history, both visible and invisible. In each organ the memory of what we have lived resonates, and sometimes, in that deep connection, we find both pain and reconciliation.
If this reflection has resonated with you, on Patreon I share more about how the body, psyche, and gothic symbolism intertwine in our lives. There I delve into the shadows we inhabit and how we can transform them into knowledge and self-understanding. Join me and continue exploring with me this descent into the depths of being.
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