Lessons from a long illness
Dear Ones,
January 10 the kids left from their winter break and I noticed a cough begin. Which turned into a big cough and shortness of breath and headaches. Adam listened to my lungs for pneumonia. Then 3 weeks later I had a good day and a walk in the woods, finally. Came home slept 2 hours. Woke with fever, chills, aches, the flu arrived. Which turned into a sinus infection which dragged on and on and finally called for antibiotics and then a virus under it all lingered until juuuuussst now the tide is turning. What a winter.
Along the way there were so many lessons.
Mostly, I began to feel like a fraud. Why was I still so sick? Maybe all my food choices and practices and tools just didn’t matter, I only thought they did. Nothing seemed to work except rest. This ate into everything, what I did for myself, what I wanted to teach, my plans, my choices… Who was I to teach anything if it didn’t make a difference the way I’d always imagined?
I thought my fire / passion / inspiration came from my came from the care I put to my days and now it felt like it didn’t matter. My light was out. Nothing was funny. For weeks I couldn’t read. My food didn’t taste like anything. My oils didn’t smell like anything. I didn’t want to make anything or say anything - hence no newsletters for a while.
The work I produce is based on a stream I am familiar with; I wake, shake myself out, and set myself in the stream to hear the ‘news’ of the day. It is a flow of guidance I have known for decades. And this too seemed to thin to a trickle. Its only instruction, the only gift: Rest.
And so I did. And it was magical. 3 times a day I would rest, nidra, or meditate. I grew familiar with the stages of slowly passing into my interior, the noisy often uncomfortable start of truly feeling my feelings and my body, then the slow layer by layer melting until it was finally quiet.
When I would do too much, the symptoms and the dislocation from my sense of self (the worst symptom, my lack of light) would rise up. And again, disconsolate, sure I would never be well, but I would rest - again.
What a gift. A gruesome, intolerable, unfamiliar, perfect gift: to be held kindly and fully in my own quiet; to know that this interiority was a balm over and over, day after day; to feel it beyond rationale and habit until the rhythm of rest was pressed into my schedule and into my body, until I knew what to do without the symptoms.
So I made some rest for you - a new nidra. So simple. Not too long. A remedy when needed. A launchpad when ready. You can use what’s there and get use to your own quiet a bit at a time. Or at its conclusion you can settle in further and keep going until your own body knows it has had enough.
On the same page there are other nidras if you want to explore. But this was what wanted to be shared, this medicine that comes from our own time dedicated to our own stillness.
The quiet can be trusted. Even though I was sure that so much rest would unravel my business, magic came from there - incredible phone calls and connections and invitations to collaborate that I could never have aimed for on my own. I know that they came out of the quiet, they came from my willingness to let my known schedule and habits and efforts subside so that a new pattern could emerge. I will follow up on them as I am restored.
Even now, I check the clock of my body and she is clear, it is time to rest. I am not fully recovered. A simple walk or grocery run can leave me depleted. But things are funny again - it feels so good to laugh. The food I cooked last night had flavor again. I’m keen on the day ahead and plans are starting to form. I danced a little as I brushed my teeth this morning. All good signs that my own spring is arriving. But slowly, softly, and I will not leave the soil that got me here.
Keep time to rest and let it nourish everything else, this is the lesson of my winter.
Be well. Rest well. More to come.
All love, Martha
…
RECOMMENDATIONS:
What I’m reading: Let Us Descend (fiction), Loving Corrections (non-fiction)
What I’m listening to: Come Touch the Sun (album) and Hamnet (audiobook)
What I’m watching: Knepp Rewilded (the short story of rewilding a British estate)
What I’m eating: To Asia With Love and her addictive cabbage can’t be missed
UPCOMING:
Spring 1 of my 40 day sequences will start Monday March 24 8-9am EST.
I’ll be live online Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays until May 2. We will do 20 days to detox and trust feeling as knowing and 20 days to fortify the nervous system. All levels are invited to join and to share in this energy that holds my frame and my dreams together. Register here.
My substack is alive and well. That is where I put the lessons from the current 40 day sequences. When we are on camera I try to get right at it and practice, but there is often more to say and readings I am drawing from and so substack is the home for that. Head over and check it out if you like. I was live there this morning, teaching an introduction to prosperity if you like.
Starting in September 2025 I will be teaching a 10 month training The Genius of Yoga that can add up to a 200hr teacher certificate OR it can be a place where you really get to know what yoga is, what we are teaching, and why so that you as a practitioner can be your own best teacher. This training is to enable us all have a better understanding of where the practice comes from, where it leads us, how it works, and how to best make use of it. Details are on my site.
Hosted at TRIBE you can come for all 10 weekends or just one or two. I started yoga 30 years ago this May. How could I have known how it would hold everything together? My goal is to take all I’ve learned and all I’ve lived and see how they’ve spoken to each other and lay them out as tools for you to live and learn in ways you are seeking. Modern science is now supporting the work of the yogis began centuries ago. How wise we are, then and now, and right now. Come learn with me.
Details and registration here.
...
"When the heart rests, the cardiac muscle cells rest completely. Unlike skeletal muscle cells, which relax to a certain degree but will retain a degree of tone even when relaxed (which is why you can relax in your chair while reading this without going completely limp) the cardiac muscle cells cycle through complete rest and then complete action. The heart rests completely when it rests."
- Returning Home to Our Bodies, Abigail Rose Clarke