This is my herbalist's first tool: stop throwing things at the immune system that make it go "wacko." Before you can start fixing things, you've got to stop messing them up.
So, I took a big step today. I told my employer that this chapter, my full-time employment in this particular role, is at an end. Not on-the-spot quitting, but that this is going to be my last year in this role, and when this school year comes to an end, so does this chapter in our journey together. I want to remain a part of the community—and I think the community very much wants me to remain a part of it—but "the enterprise," the faceless, nameless, non-human entity that keeps the organization qua organization alive, doesn't want me; and truthfully, I don't think it ever has. So, it's better for it, and certainly for me, to remove this dissonance between its hopes and mine, its expectations and mine, its desires and mine. Time for this chapter to end; if for no other reason... because only this way, can another one begin.
I feel better than I have in months. Years, even. Do I do good there? Yes, I do. And always have. But for the humans, for the young people... not for "the enterprise."
I'm not saying "goodbye forever." But I'm changing our relationship. And, I think that both I and "the enterprise" are happier.
So, what's next? Actually... I think that's the fun part. Never... never... has the Great Machine of the Universe failed me. Something big has happened... and that very "bigness" had precisely the right power, direction, and timing, to create a new chapter in the Great Adventure. And, that particular chapter was exactly what I needed. And, I think, exactly what the Great Machine needed for me to do, for it.
I've actually seen some evidence of my encounter with M.S. being of this nature. But, even after The Diagnosis, I was still hanging on to My Same Old Life. When that Same Old Life was trying to leave me. Much of it had, but I was doing my best to not let all of it go. Because... I was afraid.
I've been living a "Gethsemane moment" for years. Christ's plea in the garden, "Take this cup away from me." But even Christ eventually realized that it was time to stop fighting; finally, he was willing to say, "Not my will, but Thy will be done."
And it only took him one evening. Me, I've been making that prayer for years... not about M.S., but about not being willing to face the choice that I knew I needed to face, and that I haven't been able to face until today.
And face it, I did. With calmness; and honesty; and sincerity; and open-heartedness. And kindness. And even forgiveness. It was a beautiful hour, an hour of telling the truth... with love.
And facing this thing that I've been so afraid to face, I faced... with precisely the things that living with M.S. has strengthened. I never would have been able to face the truth of this moment, and the truth of having to face this moment, and to face both of those with open hands and open heart, had I not been "afflicted" with M.S. And spent the time I have on the Neurological Highway, and being changed by not by the neurological malfunctions, but by the journey.
They were truly... gifts of M.S.
Amazing thing, this "disease," isn't it?