Three days after I wrote the last post, so full of plans and hopes for the future, I was in hospital with an acute attack of pancreatitis. I am told that's one of the most intense kinds of pain known to man. The doctors don't know why I had the attack. And they are scratching their heads about why I am still in pain now. I'm waiting for more tests.

Suffice to say that the last couple of months have not gone according to plan. Instead of turning my energy outward, towards the needs of the world, I have been forced to look inward again. From necessity, I have had to take care of myself, to be with this pain, to work towards healing. So far nothing I have tried has significantly improved the pain, although acupuncture seems to have made a big difference in my energy levels.

Not knowing why I'm in pain, or what to do about it, is challenging. It makes me come up against demons of fear, anger, and endless frustration. I am being constantly challenged to face up to these emotions, to shed the illusions of certainty and stability, and to let go of some a lot of the comfort and protection that I have hidden behind for most of my life.

As the leaves began to fall, I was forced to give up teaching, at least until I get better. Someone else is teaching the Dutch classes that have been mine since 1995. It's a big chunk of my identity. I am having to shed the assumption of being able to rely on a relatively healthy and pain free body into the future. I have had to give up sugars and carbohydrates to help my pancreas recover and to prevent another acute attack. It feels like I'm being stripped bare and I'm walking naked into the unknown.

This is an initiatory journey. I am being forced to look at myself, at my life, and to handle things in ways that are totally new to me. I am being challenged to feel all my emotions - the hard ones so that I can accept and let go and not add  suffering to my pain, and the beautiful ones to keep me positive and anchored in my love of life. I can't have chocolate or cake to numb the pain.

I have to listen to all the signals my body sends me and take tender care of it. This is a totally new thing, and so, so hard for me. I am the sort who will flog her body into submission in order to get the things done that I believe need to be done. No more. Now I must feel what is going on, face it, and give myself the love I need. I must let go of expectations and embrace the mysterious unknown that lies ahead.

This is a Samhain journey. A walk into the dark and mysterious unknown. Not knowing is hard. Not being able to rely on the usual certainties is hard. But it is also the reality of life. Certainty is an illusion. We never know, one moment to the next what will happen to us, whether we will live or die. And I have found, that when I embrace that uncertainty and the fear that comes with it, I find the first glimmerings of freedom.

I really believe that I am being prepared for something. All the work that I was looking forward to two months ago, and the big change in life that my husband and I are planning for 2013, will require me to be able to walk into great amounts of uncertainty and to be able to deal with it. I've been given a unique opportunity to practice doing just that. And I am taking it. I am staying awake, listening and watching, learning so much about myself as I go. Through it all, the magic of connection to nature, to Life, sustains me.

For now, I need most of my energy to do just that. To deal with the pain and the not knowing. To do as much of my life as I can and no more. Sometimes that feels like an adventure, and I'm discovering and learning a lot of things about life and about myself. At other times it involves floods of tears of frustration and hopelessness. It's all part of the journey.

But with the new lunar cycle that is just starting, I am longing to reach out to the world again. To include the pain of others in my prayers. To write and to make ritual. To start dreaming my future again. So here I am, writing a blog post. And I'm putting my dreams for the Westacre Project in 2013 on paper. I'm also getting myself set up so I can work from home, without the stress of travelling into London.

After two months of looking inward, I am gently turning outward again, carefully listening to my body, strongly connected to the Web of Life. I'm open to the mystery and the unknown. Let's see what's out there. Let's see what invites me.