A few years ago, I was doing really well as an artist. Then the pollution and allergens in Bangalore city, along with my internal patterns, wore me down and got me so sick and weak that I had to stop everything and just leave. I had pain in my arms, hips, a buzzing in my legs. I had lost a lot of weight. I had generalized anxiety. And the last straw, I got diagnosed with hypothyroidism. So I went off to the mountains in Himachal with a project as an excuse, not telling anyone that I had decided not to come back.
It wasn't easy in the mountains. My body was in pain and I was still pushing myself for the project. My grandparents live a few hours from where I was. A few days after I got there, my grandfather passed away. I felt blessed to have been there. But I get the worst fever whenever anyone I know passes away. And this was my grandfather! I got the mother of all viral infections and was in bed for two weeks straight, trying to pretend I didn't exist and neither did the world. I gave up on the project.
Once I recovered from the flu, I stayed on with my grandma, giving her company and taking her care. I was slowly looking for a place to move to. I was still weak and in pain and felt convinced I'm going to get sicker and die in a few years. I tried to "think positive" but it was like water off a duck's back. My grandma took me to see a poojari. He looked at my birth chart and prescribed a ceremony.
A month later, I'm sitting slumped in the car on the way to the ceremony. It was a beautiful morning, cold and crisp, golden sunlight. There were small fields along the curving road, bright green in the sun. This particular poojari got me to do a lot of the work of the ceremony. Offerings to the fire, to the earth, to the idols. Over and over until my already aching arm was burning. I wondered if I was doing permanent damage to my arms. It went on for three hours, and then suddenly, we were driving back. The pain was gone. I felt relaxed, all the colors looked brighter.
Later that day, while getting a glass of water, I suddenly stopped short. I realized that the conviction of getting sicker and dying was gone. Instead, it was simply obvious that I would heal and become strong. It was just a matter of time. I started eating more heartily. I experimented with cooking Indian meals, learning to use more vegetables and fewer grains, more coconut oil and less refined oil. I took cold water baths and did pranayama. I did not exercise at all, letting my exhausted system rest. I meditated sometimes. I stayed off the internet. I talked to my grandma and people in the village.
And I got healthier and stronger and brighter! My art and self-expression improved by bounds. I finally started making paintings that I like. I slowly started yoga to strengthen my body.
Then, in May, a massive crisis happened to a close family member and by extension, to me. The biggest in my life so far. Taking care of him and myself and finding guidance to help him through this has been the focus in the months since then. I realized that I was a lot stronger than I'd thought. But I had to go back to Bangalore. Things have settled down but I'm starting to get sick again. Random aches in my body, fatigue, lack of clarity. I should leave again but I feel like I'd be abandoning my family. Dealing with these feelings, I have gotten around to booking my tickets. I figured I can't help anyone if I get sick again.
There are so many posts to be made about the things I experienced and learned during these few months. I don't know if they're worth sharing but I'd like to share them in case it helps anyone out there. I'd love some feedback from those who read it about what you think and how I could write and convey these experiences better.
Love,
@gugumonsta
Where there is love there is life.
- Mahatma Gandhi
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