Thursday, September 16, 2010

Another bout with the snapping jaws

I had a rough patch on a day last week, where a feeling of isolation and rudderlessness went down to tears. But even at the very depths of it, when my whole face was being pulled down - gravity suddenly inexorable, the wallow of tears and snot compelling - I found the inner voice to say, “This is the snapping jaws.” I felt, at that point, immediate release from the pull. I had to admonish myself a few more times, as further waves of sadness swept over me, and each time felt the same release.

My insides, it seems, were wound up in a story about neediness - needing others in my life to be strong so I could go blubbery, feeling that I couldn’t do so without the balance of the family falling around my ears. Noticing that I had not set up for myself, among family or friends, a safe place where I could dare to be needy. But the whole story belonged to the snapping jaws. I put it aside and helped my son set up his room, and I was fine.

Later I found myself thinking about a sentence from Mrs. Eddy’s message of 1902: “. . . conscious worth satisfies the hungry heart, and nothing else can.” It feels very relevant to me at this time. (Here’s the whole quote: “Happiness consists in being and in doing good; only what God gives, and what we give ourselves and others through His tenure, confers happiness: conscious worth satisfies the hungry heart, and nothing else can.”)

But I also noticed how effective it was, in the moments of deep tears, to tag the snapping jaws. The change it brought about was was physiological as well as mental. The overwhelming gravitational pull on my face was suddenly gone, as well as the compelling pull of the story that swept me into self-pity. I started thinking then, and have been thinking more, that it is like that for any disease - it can leave as quickly, when recognized as being merely the snapping jaws and nothing having to do with me. I begin to feel less incredulous about this. I start to remember that feeling of waking up from a dream, shaking myself into focus and being released from images I was sure were true. Yes, I recognize this. Healing works this way.

1 comment:

katiekono said...

You write so beautifully, Wendy! Yes, the snapping jaws- what a great description! They got me a few times when I fell into loneliness here in Phoenix after leaving so many people in the Northwest!

I am loving retirement, marriage to Dave, and travel, especially to see my kids! Still fighting the right-wing establishment, but here in AZ where it REALLY is entrenched!