In my recent post This Is Grief I spoke about acupuncture, and the flood of emotions this form of treatment unleashed within me. I was not prepared. As a result, my summer months were spent reflecting upon and traversing through the overwhelming depths of my sadness, my anger, my grief. These dark and tumultuous feelings hovered under the surface of my otherwise pleasant demeanour, and I could feel them gnawing at me, pulling at me, and clawing at me. It felt like a vile and angry beast was ripping through me, gnashing and bashing against caged walls yet unable to escape…
I had always thought that acupuncture would heal me physically, but so far the journey has been nothing but emotional. My most recent treatment occurred just days before my end-of-summer vacation; aggravating all these fierce emotions within. The anger overwhelmed me. I felt helpless because I could not let it go. I felt it coursing through me. Anger. Pure anger. I travelled north with my family, for our first family vacation in 6 years – my son’s first real vacation in his lifetime – and I packed the anger, the grief, the sadness with me. I did not have a choice.
Sometimes we’re taken into troubled waters not to drown … but to be cleansed.
On our first morning at the cottage I was shaking with anger – with a frightening rage within. So I escaped to the water’s edge. I sat with my eyes closed, listening to the waves lapping against the shore, the dock rocking to the rhythm of the water. The water. When I opened my eyes it sparkled. It dazzled. It danced. It cleansed. My breathing altered. I again closed my eyes and listened. I heard the whispers of the the water and the wind. I felt the anger within me bubble, gurgle, and churn like a brook… and then it was gone. The anger was gone. I felt peace.
I had forgotten the immense healing powers of water. I had forgotten the majestic beauty that it possess. I spent as much time as I could by the water’s edge. I lay on the dock with my eyes closed, rocking to the rhythm of the water. I journaled. I read. I sat and drank a latte, cross-legged on the dock watching the boats go by, listening to the loons cry. I let my mind wander. I let go … of worry, of stress, of grief, of anger … I let go. For every moment that I spent with the water I felt reconnected to me – to my sense of self. I felt clarity and I felt calm. My demeanour changed. I was serene.
It was the first time since my diagnosis that breast cancer was not on the forefront of my mind. I woke happy. I woke with a calm in mind and body. I enjoyed myself. I laughed. I played with Liam. I joked with my husband. I swam. I boated. I spent time with family. I relaxed. I actually relaxed.
On my final day at the cottage I bid farewell to the majestic French River. I sat on the dock and whispered my thanks – my gratitude for the healing powers of water. For without water there would be no life.
I will be back, I whispered. And the water danced.
Without Water There Can Be No Life. Published by Crystal Joy Hall
No Comments