Wishing for a Million Parasites

Last week I wrote out some of my weekly goals wishes. I try to do this after I’ve already done some morning pages so that I am in the flow of writing and being in my intuition. The wishes tend to flow more easily. It’s a practice I blatantly stole from Havi, and here is an example of my favorite template, although she’s changed it many times over the years.

Out of nowhere, my pen wrote:

Wish 3 – So Many Parasites

I’m not kidding. That’s what I wrote.

Actually, here’s the rest:

:: Here’s What I Want ::

• I want a clear, explainable explanation for all my health issues and a clear, easy-to-follow plan of action, preferably one that permits coffee.

• I want a plan to follow that will get me where I want to go.

• But that’s problematic thinking; because there’s no Eden. There’s no place that’s free from suffering and work. I can’t achieve perfection by naming and then killing my parasites.

→ Kathryn, Show Me Your Yearning. I’ll tell you who you are.

• I want to be enthusiastic and energetic, not like I’m trying to avoid all my work. I don’t even want to joke about avoiding work anymore. It’s like how people make all these self-deprecating jokes about their bodies and I get that people bond over semi-serious, mutual self-hate, but I also see the desperation underneath. I want to bless my work and my energy levels and my work ethic.

• I want to feel light and look vibrant.

• I don’t want to have compulsive sugar cravings. I don’t want to eat food that doesn’t make me feel great. I want some parasites to blame for this impulse.

:: My Commitment ::

• My body is a good body.

• I love that I incarnated as myself in this lifetime.

• If it doesn’t enhance me, it can leave, but my choices and my compulsions are mine.

 

I was glad to catch myself in the middle of wishing for a silver bullet.

This is how I become desperate: thinking there’s some magic pill or solution that’s going to save me and make all my wishes come true; I just have to find the right one.

My teacher used to call this INSERT NAME HERE, where humans chase re-entry into Eden after being kicked out for their humanity. We think if we’re perfect, or if we find the perfect diet, have the perfect body, find the perfect relationship, we’ll be allowed to come home to a life of ease and paradise.

I want to blame all the health problems I’ve had over the years, all the dental trouble, the lack of energy, the extra weight, on something else, something definite and fixable.

Something I can cut out and kill.

Something that is Not Me.

It’s easier.

And that’s the nice thing about having desires and naming them: I can come into relationship with them and figure out what I’m really craving, what I’m truly reaching for.

In this case, I do want some ease. I’m feeling like I need to fight against my true nature a lot.

I want to bless myself and my choices. After all, my actions are always authentic, even if I’m taking no action. It’s ok to not give a shit.

I’m in the midst of creating the vocations I want, and I’m needing to create a paradigm that’s not comprised of busyness = importance. It’s a hard one to untangle.

I also do think I have parasites, and I’m really glad to have a doctor that believes me. I think there are a lot of physical symptoms that will be helped by getting treatment for this issue and healing my gut, and it’s also important that I not give all my power and agency to this parasite treatment. My body is still (thankfully) mine to care for and heal.

The point is, I don’t need to get overly attached to this diagnosis. I don’t need it to mean more than it does or be a symbolic substitute for stuff I’d rather not own.

My work is still mine. My energy levels are still mine. The foods I choose are still my choices. I don’t need to give my doctor power over all that, and I must not come out of relationship with myself.