It came as an absolute surprise.
Actually it didn't.
For a couple of weeks already, the virus was signaling its presence around me.
On Friday, I had a free public coaching session with a coach that
I would hire on the spot, if I would only have the money to pay her. During the
session, the theme of sickness came up as a basic fear in the system.
On Saturday, I was braving and participating in a local
event for entrepreneurs and felt really great about it. On Sunday, I woke up
with a head cold. I was actually happy to have it, because that meant that my
body is fighting a potential killer. I was not resisting it, but I was using
Greg's Good Day Method every night and every morning and was pretty sure that
it will not last longer than a day or two. That's how it has been for the last
couple of years for me. In the evening, I even got some fever and was even more
happy, because that meant that the immune system was speeding up the healing
process.
On Wednesday, I felt good
enough to attend an even bigger and fancier local event for entrepreneurs.
After the event, I went to my daughter's school to get the paperwork done in
order for her to receive a bit more pocket money for the next two months. It
ended well, but the process was not very smooth and I started feeling that
something was off with it. Afterwards, I met my daughter and we drove home on a bus
together. A couple of times she told me to stop talking about money. And I was
thankful to her for that, because I didn't like what I was doing myself. I
wasn't talking about money. I was talking about how poor I am.
That night, I woke up with a nasty cough and couldn't get
back to sleep for 3 hours.
The next morning though, I decided to take advantage of the
nice weather and go to the town to finalize the paperwork (next week, it would
be too late and my daughter would need to wait for the money to come in for
another months) and to visit another establishment to file a case against an
agency that owes me money for translation jobs finished months ago.
I didn't feel well and the question popped into my attention
field: "Would you do any of this, if you would be rich?" My honest
answer was: "No, at least not today. But ... my bank account says that I
am not rich and that I need to fight for those tiny sums of money today."
So, off I went. Feeling crappy, but happy that I still can
move and that the weather is gorgeous.
The establishment couldn't help me because of the character
of my agreement with the agency. The only solution left for me would be going
to court with it.
At my daughter's school, it didn't go so smoothly either,
but I got the paper I needed to get to the other establishment. Only it cost me
walking to and fro more than once, waiting on a bench in the park for half an
hour, and being unnaturally persuasive. The belief that I am not rich and need
that money to come in even though it's not much and will be paid only for 2
months until my daughter is 19 helped me to pull it through. The truth that I
am rich and actually the source of all that can be considered wealth and value
made it feel unnatural.
Even though I had a wonderful session with my one and only
client later the same day, and he told me, that he wanted to continue working
with me and would pay me for the next month in a week, my body had the hardest
night afterwards. I was thanking it and accepting the consequences of my own
decision to feel and act like I would be poor and put it out there even
though it most definitely needed to stay home and be supported in its battle
with the virus.
The next day, the body felt week, but the symptoms hadn't
worsened. I didn't beat myself up knowing that such events are a natural part
of our journey here, that we will never be done with falling into believing the
reality of our dream even though we are aware that and how we created every
part of it. But I took it easy, stayed home and let the body do its job of
staying alive.
The night after that, I slept like a baby and felt almost
completely healthy the next morning. :)
