Allowing the Stillness

First Breaths- You MUST watch.

First Breaths- You MUST watch.

Hi, it's Sylvia.

A couple nights ago, I came across a video of a woman taking her first breaths after a lung transplant.

Breathing. Even the ability to breathe freely and independently, is a gift and a choice, and it's just one of many that we all take for granted every day.


As many of you might already know from my Instagram, my back threw my body for a loop over the last few weeks. What had I done to earn it? Everything and nothing in particular, just the usual mom life. 

I woke up one morning and realized my body had benched me. 

(I realize that back pain is not even in the same stratosphere as a lung transplant, but stay with me.) 

I gave it a week to rest, and as soon as I felt better, I jumped back into my life. I was 98% back to normal, and so excited to get back to business as usual. I was going crazy and I decided to clean the house and get organized for the week, which turned out to be a huge mistake. 

Turns out, you're supposed to give your body a couple extra days to heal all the way.

Because I decided to ignore my body, yet again, I found myself knocked back to square one for over a week. My new choice was to sit and rest and ask for help... or experience an ultra localized back labor on one side. Some choice, huh.

Being still, not being able to "pull my weight" or "contribute enough" to earn worthiness sent me into an ego driven tail-spin. 

All of my demons came out to play. I felt trapped, and helpless, and frustrated, and so pessimistic. I went dark. 

I had ordered the Sparkle lesson for 2018, and as of February 1st, I'd already flunked the Master Class and been given a do-over. 

Old fears and insecurities. Resentments. Hesitation to ask for and receive help, and the resulting feeling of being alone and unsupported. All lessons that I had ordered, of course, and as it turns out, I needed to learn it the hard way, twice.

While I tolerated the stillness and pain in the first round, the second time gave me the chance to work through the resistance and fully allow it instead.

So this time, instead of being stuck in the story of all the things I couldn't do, I chose instead to look for the gifts and lessons in the stillness, which opened the door to a steady flow of helpers and healers to show up to support me through it.

I let go of the guilt about letting my mom take care of me (and my kid) for the week. I let go of the guilt and frustration around lying down, feet up, with a heating pad on my back. I forgave myself for the Eeyore attitude that I just couldn't shake at times, and just let myself feel it, and even let my family and friends love and support me while I couldn't live up to my own self-image of the bright, happy light. I committed to fully immersing myself in the books and podcasts I was listening to, instead dedicating only a percentage of my attention to them, while making a list of all the things I wanted/"needed" to be doing instead. At my book club meeting, I met some beautiful new friends, one of whom gave me an impromptu reiki session during the meet-up, which was so powerful! I gave myself the time and money to get a couple acupuncture sessions, and was treated to a delicious surprise gourmet lunch by my brilliant acupuncturist, who enjoys making food for his patients. The idea to meditate popped into my head during one particularly rough afternoon, and just by remembering to stop the mental spin cycle and reconnect to Spirit, I ended the day with a renewed sense of inspiration and excitement, and a road back to the sparkly Me that I'd forgotten along the way.

And here I am a few days later, still taking it slow, but taking the extra time to check in with my body about what it can truly handle before I push through. 

All of this, just for a massive shift in perspective. 

Thanks Universe, I hear you, loud and clear!


Do you find that you tend to learn life lessons like this the easy way or the hard way, like me in this story? What have you learned? I'd love to hear from you.

Sylvia Hendershott