So, the short answer is this. I went into meditation this morning with the intention of fixing my compromised thyroid.

I came out of meditation with my word for the year. And a new appreciation for my condition.

I’ve been contemplating physical healing.

If we can heal our spirits and emotional states through the release of unconscious beliefs, and through straight-up healing, can’t we do the same for our bodies?  If physical disease occurs in our energetic body first, couldn’t we clean it out?

This is what I’ve been thinking about. And this morning, it’s what I felt I really needed for myself as well.

My Messed-Up Body meets My Morning Meditation

My thyroid is a mess. My body is in revolt. My kidneys are not happy.  I love my willing warrior of a body, and it needs my help.

This morning, I lit my incense (copal and sandalwood) and settled into meditation, in the bathtub.  I went down into the earth and found it warm and gentle and breathing with our planet’s heartbeat.

And then I went up to God, and said, “Hey, I’m done with this stupid thyroid problem. I don’t want to take my medication. I just want to be done with it.”

And God said, “Did you ever wonder why I gave you this issue?”

I pondered that.   I said, “It was the canary in the coal mine, wasn’t it? My thyroid was supposed to get me to eat more healthy, and exercise more, and I’ve ignored that lesson for another 12 years, right?”

And God said, “No.”

God said, “That’s ridiculous.”

And I said “Well, I’d like it to work now. Let’s fix it, huh?”

I Try to Fix my Thyroid

I directed energy to it. My throat hurt. I saw little sparks of orange light firing off of it.

God said, “We’re not going to fix it in a day. But we can fix it this year.”

“It takes a year to fix it. Okay. That’ll do.”

In the back of my head, I’m thinking, “Why does it take a year for God to fix this?”

God says, “It doesn’t take a year for me to fix it. It takes you a year to go through the process of learning that goes with it.”

I say, “Well, that works great with my word for the year. It’s integration.”

God says, “That’s not your word for the year.  Integration is fine, but you’re making this way too complicated. Your word for the year is not Integration.”

I said, “Okay, what is it, then?”

God said,  ”I’m ready for the world to experience the abundance and beauty around them. I’m ready for everyone to understand that every little detail is planned for them. ”

God showed me the little buds on flowers, and how steam rises from a plate of noodles, simple tiny pleasures gone unnoticed as we worry on other things.

“So,” I said. “The word for the year is Gratitude?”

“No,” said God. “I’m not terribly interested in people being thankful for it.  I want people to feel joy. I’m tired of the cycles of want. ”

“The word for the year is joy?” I asked.

“No. The word for the year, perhaps, should be “observe”.”

Ah. Okay.

God said “I gave you your thyroid problem to slow you down, to help you observe.”

“Is every disease this way?” I asked.

“No,” said God.

“Okay,” I said. “The word of the year is “Observe”.”

The Word of the Year is Observe

I whispered, “Ritual, Recipe, Story.” The same three words that have been rolling around in my brain for four days.

I took out my salt soap and washed my face and neck. I felt the rough cotton fibers on my neck, thought about the men and women who made this washcloth. I turned on the hot water, thought about the people responsible for bringing water to my house, for building the heater that made it hot.

Brian brought me a cup of coffee.  I drank it, tasting cherries and bitter.

I thought about every detail and the detail in every detail.  I thought about the act of observing each detail in turn.

I watched the film of soap on the water’s surface.   The water swirled around and in the soap, I saw a rabbit turn to a condor turn to a crane. I thought I’d look these up later.  It made me happy to see these little animals in my bath water.

Then God said, “Please stop worrying that you have cancer. That’s a distraction. Let that go. You don’t have cancer.”

(That’s true, I’ve worried about this a lot.).

I was filled with peace then.

I got out of the tub. I rubbed my body with a towel.

I realized that I live with a careful man who brings attention to everything he does.  I feel happy and blessed.

I got dressed. I hugged Brian. He handed me a plate of eggs and bacon and english muffin. I slowly ate my breakfast.   I realized that it’s going to take me a long time to eat now.

I hope you’ll join me on this year to observe.  Right now, I find myself quiet and interested.

Much love-

Bridget