Last night’s sleep for me had been like a tide, where I’d find myself awake for a moment and say, back to sleep to myself, drift off, wake again, back to sleep, and so forth. So when I woke up this morning I didn’t know what time it was, only that it was still dark out and I knew I didn’t want to be in bed anymore. So I got up, stepped over a sleepy dog, tiptoed into the living room, where the cable box declared it was 5:30am. OK, I’m up for the day, I decided.
So what do I do? I reached for my Blackberry…I had powered it off at a little after 9pm last night, as a my new nightly break from technology, trying to get this insomnia in order. Then put it down without looking at it, no, it’s time to meditate.
I found the kitchen timer I’d purchased the other day, set it for 15 minutes, put my eye mask back on, turned out the lights, and plopped myself down in a cross-legged position. Immediately the inner chatter started…so I deep breathed through it, and when I got lost in thought, I’d bring myself back to breathing. I tried breathing to All (inhale)…Is well (exhale), which had been suggested by Victoria Moran when I saw her speak recently. From there I got wrapped up in thinking again…but at some point I settled on I am a fertile (inhale)…being (exhale). And I realized that was IT.
Fertile means bearing, capable , abundant, productive. So telling all the trillions of cells in my body as I sat there meditating that I am a fertile being was an important thing to do.
I am trying to conceive of myself as a capable being, abundant with possibilities. The possibilities of having a satisfying career based on making a societal contribution, a happy contented relationship with my husband, healing communications with family, becoming whole and well physically.
As I sat there my thoughts also drifted to how I’d railing on for many years I am getting too old to conceive a baby. Starting in my late 20s and through my single years I’d been doing a calculation about my odds of having a child (something I’ve always wanted for myself). Those calculations would go like…OK, I’m 32, so if I meet someone tomorrow, date for a year, getting married after another year, wait a little while, then I could maybe be trying for a baby at age 35…Eek! That’s when my fertility will start to decline! On and on and on through the years I was having those conversations with myself, and unfortunately for them, others. At one point, at age 36, while I was contentedly single for a long stretch and had no desire to be in any sort of relationship with a man, I’d said to my mom, “I think I should do artificial insemination”, to which she replied very quickly, “Yeah, I think so too.”
Then a few months later I got together romantically with my best friend, who would soon become my husband. And now we are trying to conceive with me rapidly approaching age 39. Eek!
Back to my meditation, I am a fertile…being. Inhale. Let’s hope those cells of mine listen up. Exhale.
