lessons of meditating and somatic practicing around my fear of ticks & other parasites
from my first poetry book: Written on the Trees who Teach me, Forgive Me
on the other side of fear, is feeling,
fleeting if we forget our pause
or fight instead of follow
the felt sense.
on the other side of imbalance,
perhaps the ticks,
seeking a host,
are simplify inviting us back home
back to our bodies.
to notice in awareness
beyond hyper-vigilance,
in effort of interdependence.
the earth does not worry, but respond,
and maybe so can we
to the land’s changing climate,
a matter of homosapien entanglement,
an opportunity to come to terms with the root causes of it.
each spring i spiral until i remember
there is no full prevention other than noticing in non-reaction
and moment-to-moment intervention
i choose cognizance over chemicals
bare skin to sense beyond covered particles
because for me these choices are a part of the chance
to reintegrate ourselves as an integral part of the land.
blood-seeking beings and insects we find fear in,
feel like reflections of the shadows we must face
in order to give earth our care and attention
our time and renewed affection.
the spiders are space-holders,
the mosquitos, awakeners.
and the ticks, I’m beginning to consider teachers.
feeling targeted we may fight, flight or freeze
yet we can also drop down into our somatic body
shake and sense like four-leggeds,
and give ourselves a chance to trust again.
if climate change is caused by disembodied action or inaction,
then that means our choices are chances for shifts,
and they matter.
in each moment, there is space,
when we slow down and notice nature’s way.
there are lessons between questing arachnid legs,
and autonomy even within our conditioned brains.
when i look at them closely, i see reflections of desperation.
what they seek in our veins is only a taste
of the abundance of resilience we hold in our rootedness.
if we notice, sense, and listen,
there is enough time to notice before invasion.
perhaps this is all just an encoded invitation
to create a ritual of care out of checking our beloved skin.
when you leave the forest, meadow or river,
before you enter your house,
when you wash the pollen in your hair out,
is a chance, a reminder to remember to touch your own skin,
get to know it’s curves and folds,
which bumps are birth-given moles,
and if any new ones arose.
more like a doula than a detective,
give yourself the chance to trust in yourself again.
humans are not the problem,
nor are the ticks.
we need not love each other,
but instead learn lessons from these conditions.
in what we can’t control without harm or chemicals,
is a space to find remembrance in the ever-certain unknowns.
despite all this insight, i still have fear,
but instead of pushing it away or hiding,
i’m listening and holding it near.
there is no prevention like the present,
and we need this of all species
to restore balance to our earth in the end.
these are some ponderings as i’ve been processing the deep fear of ticks i hold and share with many others in new england & beyond come spring each year.
a shock to the nervous system after a winter of rest, as well as a conflict of interest as we excitedly greet the warmer weather - i always start out hyper vigilant until i learn the lessons beneath the skin once again.
i research all the methods, the ways of prevention. i find dead ends at deadly insecticide chemicals, harmful to ourselves and our ecosystems (deet & permethrin). i find temporary preventatives in natural remedies like eating more garlic, using essential oil sprays, and keeping the grass low (hopefully replacing it with no-mow native ground coverings all together one day).
they want me to wear long sleeves when my skin is craving solar rays and vitamin D.
i search and search and find no answers about the root issue here… fear.
beyond the hyper-vigilance i’m beginning to realize (and it’s easier said than done in each moment) that this is a practice beyond the meditation cushion.
just as meditation and mindfulness are not about passivity, i more and more realize the importance of being back in the felt body. eco-somatics as i’ve been studying and practicing through many teachers intertwined with Buddhism, ecology & beyond, applies to this situation just like any other.
fear is a signal to nurture the fight or flight before it gets stuck and forms habits in our minds. to drop deeper into our practices of mindfulness and embodiment regularly, so when the moments come of facing fear in the forest or unwanted guests in the garden we can, over time and with practice, learn to coexist and respond rather than react.
i’ve realized that beyond the cedar wood and geranium oils and other preventative measures, there is no help in worry, and avoidance only goes so far, until one meets your skin, and even then there is time. remembering to notice, sense and check is all you need to do consistently, and none will latch or be able to stay latched long enough to transmit lymes, according to the CDC they will rarely transmit if latched for less than 48 hours.
perhaps this noticing is a practice worth it no matter where you go or what you do. from preventing unwanted attachments, and renewing embodied neural pathways - our bodies will know if we give them the space to notice.
nature has created an attempt of rebalancing what our species has offset,
while simultaneously giving a chance to return to the only place we can truly make the shift this world and our species needs to enact ethical changes - our bodies. both the earth’s body, and our body, are the answers and our gifts.
to slow down within our bodies and give presence to all that is around and a part of us, is the hope i see for our collective future. equanimity comes not through bypassing, but facing head on our shadows, fears and problems.
the parallels between ticks and the climate crisis are evident. the same can be said, i believe, for the “solutions” - they are not instantaneous or perfect, but they are hopeful and can keep us sane.
in a world of capitalism, species competition, human-made hierarchies, and disembodied reality - the bigots and ticks can be teachers alike if we find reflections within them to deepen our roots into not what we cant control, but rather what we can embody - our bodies, our autonomy, our spirituality within humanity.
so this is a reminder to myself and you,
to keep hope on your hikes,
and bring your somatic practices into the garden,
letting yourself be aware rather than letting your heart harden.
{& perhaps ticks are a metaphor for more of what we fear & are preyed by in this parasitic world…}
from my first poetry book: Written on the Trees who Teach me, Forgive Me
Thanks for reading,
p.s. if this resonates and you'd like to practice reconnecting to the wisdom of nature at your own pace alongside community, you might like to check out Remembership.
