Home » Healing (Page 4)

Category Archives: Healing

Letter writing for healing.

Posted on by | Leave a comment

One thing that is very healing is reconciling. It is about balancing the accounts in your emotional and spiritual logbooks. It can be as simple as writing letters.

Write that letter to the person who you can’t stand, who made you mad, who left you. Who owes you? Who has slighted you / hurt you / betrayed your trust? Write a letter to each one. Tell them how you feel. Recall the situations that were difficult.

If you feel like you can mail the letters, then do so. If that is too much, then just write them. It may be difficult to send them – the other person may not be able to receive your message. Just writing them is very healing.

One option if you can’t send the letters is to burn them. It is a way of releasing energy. Imagine the anger and frustration disappearing in the flames. See the smoke rising up as a prayer to God, asking for healing in that situation.

Then think about who do you owe? Who have you slighted / hurt / betrayed? Write that letter to the person who you never thanked, who was kind, who helped you more than you deserved. Send those letters. People need to hear that they have done a good job or made a difference.

Moving onward, think about reconciling with yourself.
Write a letter to yourself when you were 12. Forgive yourself, and offer yourself guidance.
Write a letter to who you will be 12 years from now. Encourage yourself, and cheer yourself on towards your goals.

Lonely, alone – about reconnecting the disconnected

Posted on by | Leave a comment

I met a guy at a party who was in a lot of pain and he didn’t even know it. He was drinking more than anyone else at the party, and didn’t know when enough was enough. Even at one in the morning, with the party over and his wife ready to go home, he was looking for more liquor to drink.

His wife and he are both young, and they have an infant child. I don’t know what he does for a living. He looks like he hasn’t been an alcoholic for long – his face isn’t red and flushed. His wife seems exasperated but not resigned. It looks like this is a new thing, but it is a thing. This behavior isn’t a one time dallying with excess, judging from his comments and his wife’s concern.

Perhaps having access to so much alcohol all in one place is what made it worse. These parties usually have people who bring enough alcohol for themselves as well as enough to share. The host has decanters full of hard liquor too. This much alcohol simply isn’t usually available at home – it costs too much.

He’d said earlier to anyone who was listening that he didn’t have a drinking problem – he only drank a box of wine a night. He was aware that equaled about four bottles of wine. He kept drinking after most people had stopped. He wasn’t falling down drunk or slurring his words, but he wasn’t by any means sober for any of the evening either.

I thought about him later, and prayed for him. In my prayers for him, I visualized asking him if I could put my hand over his heart. In the same way a doctor listens to your heart to determine your health, I was listening as well, but with a different instrument. My hand provided the connection with his center, his core.

I don’t know if he would have been ok with this if I had asked for real, and I’d never thought about doing this before. I can only imagine this is a new tool that God is giving me to help people. I’d just met this guy, and our society has pretty firm rules about physical boundaries. He might have been weirded out by me asking to touch him at all, especially over his heart. Strangely, I’ve found that my being married and female takes away some of the awkwardness of some interactions, however. I get some of the side associations of the wife role which are “nurse” and “mother” even though I’m not.

In the vision I sat with him for a bit, “hearing” his heart, seeking out the source of his pain. What was he trying to anesthetize? What was he trying to not face? What trauma or malformed part of him was hiding, covered up by years of not dealing with it head on?

All addictions are just symptoms. They are the result of the soul trying to get away from pain, but doing it in an indirect and not helpful way. They are bad reflexes.

So, using this new tool, I’m building on it. Where to go from there? Like a doctor, we must diagnose and then heal. But this kind of healing doesn’t involve pills.

Good questions to ask – Who first abandoned you? Who first made you feel that you had no power? When did you first feel alone?

We must find the source of the pain. The infection won’t get better if the wound isn’t addressed. People won’t want to look at it – the soul wants to avoid pain at all costs. But a little pain is necessary to get the result of no-pain in the future. Sometimes people have to “lean in” to their pain, to look at it sideways.

Then, transition to the source of the healing, which is always inside. We have our own strengths within us. We have the tools we need – the healer doesn’t heal, so much as reconnect the person with their own power.

What was the first time you felt powerful? Remember the first time you felt capable. Remember the first time you figured something out for yourself. What awards have you gotten? What recognitions have you achieved?

Our job is to help people re-member, re-unite. We join them back to themselves. Then they are re-joined to the community.

Like the story of the mustard seed, even a little bit of faith can grow into something mighty. A tiny flame can become something huge. Our job as healers is to find that little spark, that little seed and nourish and nurture it. We have to help the person see their own inner goodness and give them the tools to help it grow.

Getting people to volunteer is good. They get outside of themselves, and stop focusing on their own problems. They feel like they are useful and a part of the solution. Often what separates people from their true nature is feeling separated from the community. They don’t feel connected or valuable. The most healing thing you can do is to include someone.

Saving the starfish

Posted on by | Leave a comment

There’s a story that one day a boy was walking along the seashore. A lot of starfish were being washed up by the waves. They were slowly dying because they were being exposed to the air. He started picking up the starfish one by one and flinging them back into the ocean. A man comes walking by and he sees the little boy doing this. He says ‘Look at all these other starfish. You’re not helping them at all. You’re not making a difference in their lives.” The little boy said “I just made a difference in this one’s life.”

“What we focus on expands”, Oprah Winfrey says. It is very hard when you’re a compassionate or empathetic person. We tend to notice all the people we weren’t able to help. And while it is important to acknowledge loss, it is also important to not focus on just the bad. We have to open ourselves up and intentionally and consciously point ourselves towards that which we are doing which is helping.

We can’t save them all. We can’t help them all. But we are just one part of a huge ocean of people who are helping. We are not alone. We can’t all be Mother Teresa. But she didn’t do it alone either. She had hundreds of nuns working with her whose names we don’t know. Each one of them helped who she was given to help that day. Each one of them did what she could to make that person’s life better. She didn’t do it all but together they did.

If we focus on what we can’t do or who we haven’t saved then we lose energy. If we can help one person, it makes a difference in that person’s life. If we don’t help, locked up in our worry about all that we can’t do, then we’ll do even less.

Help who you can. Leave the rest for others to help. That gives them the joy of helping. By leaving something for others to do, you’ve actually given them a gift. Each of us wants to feel needed. A lot of people feel needed by helping others. When you do it all, you are taking away someone’s task. So you are actually doing a good deed by not doing it all.

Hoarding, overeating, and the pearl.

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Hoarding and overeating are the same things. They are both ways of trying to protect yourself from “out there”. More significantly, they are ways of trying to protect yourself from “in here”. Both build up defenses against the outside world by literally creating a wall between you and it. Meanwhile what you are really running away from is something that is irritating you inside.

In hoarding, you believe that you need more stuff to feel safe. You keep four of something, even if you only need two. You’ll pack five pairs of shoes on a three day trip, because you aren’t sure what you might need. You’ll keep twelve outfits that don’t fit that you haven’t worn in years “just in case”. You’ll keep things that are broken or were given to you and you’ve never used because you think you might have a need for them.

This is all a sign that you don’t believe that your needs will be taken care of. You feel that you are all on your own, alone, and it is all up to you to make sure that you are happy. Meanwhile you can’t even find what you need under the pile of stuff you don’t need. You’ve built up a wall, a fortress, between you and the world.

Overeating works the same way. You feel that your needs aren’t being met, so you try to fix them with food. If a little cake is a good thing, a lot must be great, right? That boss didn’t respect you – eat a cookie or twelve. Your wife is always angry at you – have another plate at the buffet. They can’t tell you not to. It is the one thing you can control – what goes into your mouth. And yet it is out of control. You don’t have control at all. You can’t make them stop being angry or randomly changing the rules, but you can eat something. You’ll show them. Instead of speaking up, you shut yourself down by shoving food into your mouth.

This is how children behave. Sadly, sometimes adults are just children in older bodies.

Consider the oyster. A little irritant gets into it. A piece of sand, a bit of shell – something inedible and foreign gets inside. It doesn’t know how to get it out. The oyster’s inner parts are soft and this foreign thing hurts. It puts a protective layer around that irritant to make it smooth. The only problem is that now that irritant is bigger, and presses up against more of the oyster. So it puts another layer around it. And it gets bigger. So it puts another layer around it. And on, and on, and on. Eventually the pearl that has been created is so big there is no way that the oyster could get it out without being cracked open.

We are like that. We build up these walls inside us against perceived injustices and slights, and it gets bigger and bigger and bigger. Instead of getting it out or absorbing it and letting it pass through us, it gets stuck inside us, making the situation worse. Eventually the only way to get it out is to be cracked open.

Sometimes being cracked open is literal – we develop a tumor from our worries, and it has to be removed by surgery. Or sometimes we have a heart attack that slows us down and makes us reassess our priorities. Sometimes everything is stripped away from us in a natural disaster. Or a divorce. Or a house fire. Sometimes our need to control is taken out of our control, and all we have left is ourselves. Then we are faced with the question – what now?

Sometimes what we are most running away from is what we need to sit with. Often the best way to heal is to not run away from our pain but to look at it and process it. Let it pass through. We run away when we drink or smoke or do drugs. But we also run away when we fill all of our time with things and events and noise. A busy life isn’t always a happy life. Silence and emptiness can be frightening at first, but they are very healing.

Communication connection

Posted on by | Leave a comment

I’m starting to see a connection with all the classes I’ve been taking on my own, the art I’ve been making, and the tutoring I’m doing. It is all about communication – in as many different ways as possible. It is about giving other people permission, as well as different ways, to express themselves.

Pastoral care, the Circle Process, Dialogue in Diversity training, the Remo Healthrhythms Facilitator training – they are all classes I’ve paid for. Tutoring and the classes I’ve taught in prayer bracelets – that has been without pay (mostly) and taken my free time. This is all in addition to working a full-time job.

Something has driven me to take these classes, but I didn’t know what the unifying theme was until now. At the heart of it, all conversation is about communion – our connection with each other, with our own selves, with the Divine. If that sounds too out there, I can say it is about connection to yourself and others.

And that is part of it too. I want to include as many people at once. All races, all cultures, all levels of understanding and ability. This involves learning about different ways of learning, different cultural norms, different myths and legends that shape us. This involves leveling the playing field for everybody – nobody is higher. We are all working together.

I also want people to be able to express themselves not only so they will feel understood, but so that they will understand themselves. Just because English is your native language doesn’t mean that you feel comfortable communicating in it. You may write well, but don’t like speaking out loud. You may speak well, but are embarrassed about your handwriting. Or you can’t spell because you are dyslexic.

I want to remove all of these barriers between people. I want to learn as many tools as possible to get people not only talking with each other but also listening to themselves. Dance, singing, drumming, fingerpainting, puppetry, beading – whatever. I want to learn as many ways to communicate as possible.

It is critical to get out feelings. I believe that unexpressed feelings are the source of all addiction and many diseases. I believe that giving people different ways to communicate is as important as providing equal access to buildings by making them handicap accessible.

We are all handicapped in one way or another. Written and spoken language is artificial. We aren’t born speaking or writing our “native” language. It is an arbitrary system of sounds and shapes assigned to the things around us. It is symbolic, and often difficult to use.

We just want to be heard

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Just like lessons are repeated until learned, stories are repeated until heard.

People most want to be heard and understood, but sometimes they don’t even know what their real message is. If someone tells you a story repeatedly, it may not be because they forgot they had already told you. It may be because they feel that message they are trying to convey with the story has not gotten across.

The real message is almost always about feelings and not events. It is about feeling respected, validated, included, and needed. It is about being truly seen and appreciated as an individual.

Instead of listening to the story over and over, listen to the message underneath the story. The story is just a vehicle – look for the driver of the car. Listen to see if it is about feeling excluded or not wanted or some other difficult feeling. Listen for the deeper meaning. They are telling you the story again and again because their hurt has not been addressed. That wound will continue to be open until it is noticed and dealt with.

Be careful not to put your own feelings into this – ask them how they feel. It is better to ask than to assume. They may not have words for how they feel, so this may be difficult. Wait, and give them space. Offer other ways of expressing themselves – drumming, painting, dancing, singing tones, for instance. Not all communication is verbal. But all communication is essential.

Sometimes “dealing with” a wound isn’t about healing it – it is just about hearing it. Sometimes things just have to get out into the open.

Hat. (This being human is messy)

Posted on by | 1 Comment

There is a guy I know who drives a hover round. It is essentially his everyday car. He is too disabled to drive his truck, but he does it anyway in the winter or when it is raining.

It is summer now and it is very hot. I saw him today when I went to the post office. He was riding around with shorts, in a short sleeved shirt, and no hat. I thought about giving him my hat. I can get another.

He isn’t well off. He’s nearly died a number of times. His ex wife just died, and he is mourning her terribly. He’s been homeless before, for at least two years. His living conditions aren’t ideal, but they are better than a shelter. He’s a veteran. He lives on Social Security.

So I feel sorry for him. But then I remember his tales of going to Tunica, Mississippi and gambling. I remember how he’s constantly buying lottery tickets. I remember that his wife divorced him because he was cheating on her.

He’s made some bad choices.

He has chosen to spend his money on gambling rather than a hat. He was homeless because he chose to cheat on his wife. He is retired from the military and has chosen not to seek aid from them.

I dislike the term “enabling”. It really should be “disabling”.

To assist someone in their addiction is not loving. I’ve called it “aiding and abetting a sin.”

I know other people who are getting older and have some chronic health issues that are getting worse. They moved to be closer to their children. One of their children suggested that they move into a condo or an apartment so they wouldn’t have to worry about yard work or maintenance on a house. They ignored this advice and bought a house. Now they call their children to come take care of the yard work and the house maintenance. They have both become infirm, and this situation will only get worse the older they get.

I feel that they have made a bad choice and that they are abusing their children by asking them to rescue them from a preventable problem.

I’m very frustrated. I want to help people, but I want to do it in a way that really helps, instead of keeping them in the same old ruts. I want to prevent problems rather than treat them. I don’t want to cure anything. I want to stop problems from happening.

I’m frustrated when someone gets surprised that they have lung cancer after smoking two packs of cigarettes a day for twenty years. This is how my Mom died. It was sad that she died at 53, but not tragic. She did it to herself. It wasn’t an accident. She knew that what she was doing was harmful but didn’t quit.

I took care of her after her diagnosis. I drove her to her chemotherapy and radiation therapy. I cooked. I cleaned. I watched her die, bit by bit, piece by piece, day by day.

That takes a lot out of you, to watch someone die from making bad choices. It takes a lot out to see their pain and regret and fear and know that you can’t rescue them. She put herself in that hole, and because of it she put herself in her grave.

It is Christ-like to help others without question. Jesus didn’t ask people if they created their own problems. He didn’t say to the lepers – why didn’t you stay away from lepers? You knew it was contagious.

I’m finding it hard to be Christ-like. I can’t just touch them and they are healed. We humans heal people in slow motion. We have to get involved. We have to get into it up to our arms. It is messy work, this business of healing.

I wrestle with it. Am I healing someone to make it easy for them to continue to make bad choices? Why should I wake up every day and go to work just to give someone else money when they refuse to look for work?

This isn’t very nice, but it is honest. This isn’t very Christ-like, but it is human.

All the child rearing books say there have to be repercussions to bad decisions. If you let them get away with it, you are encouraging it. They advocate tough love.

“Difficult Conversations” tells you how to speak up, so you can navigate the balance between not being a doormat or a tyrant. “Boundaries” says that Christians are taught to sacrifice their own needs and wants to take care of others, and that this isn’t healthy for either person. “Codependent No More” says something similar but it doesn’t go into the issue of Christian guilt.

Somehow this sounds like an excuse to ignore someone else’s pain. But then it is important to encourage them to stand on their own. If someone has to lean on you all the time, you aren’t helping them grow as a person. And you will find you are not growing either.

This being human is messy.

I think it is lucky for Jesus that he died at 32. He didn’t have so many issues to deal with. He never had to juggle work and aging parents. He never had to deal with his own chronic health problems. He didn’t have a history of being abused by his family.

It is hard to follow Jesus, and it is messy. We don’t do it right even half of the time. But when we figure out the balance it is beautiful and amazing. I’ve given up the church but I’ve not given up on Jesus. I don’t understand the Way but I feel it is a good path.

I fall, and I get up. I get distracted. I run away, just like Jonah. And yet I’m still on the path, all along. I think this is part of what it means to hear the call, and to follow Jesus. I want to do it right, and I know I’m not going to.

This is like exercise, like training for a marathon. But I’ll never get there because of the nature of the path. That is the price of being human.

Selfishness and self-less-ness

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Originally posted on FB 4-11-2012

I’m wary and weary of the new trends in spirituality that I’m seeing. I’m concerned and saddened that the current trend seems to be self-centered. Yes – you are important. Yes, you need to have a good sense of yourself. Yes – you are valued and loved by your Creator.

But so is everybody else. Every other person on this Earth was created by the same Creator. Every other person on this Earth deserves love and honor. I’m concerned that this current trend of self-centered spirituality will result in self-service only. It is fine if it is a start. It is fine if it is a seed that then grows into love and service of others.

I find that the “name it and claim it” trend is part of this. Wishful thinking. Magical thinking. Whether it is cloaked as New Age or spun into Christianity by Joel Osteen, it still feels like object-worship. It is materialism gussied up into religion. Don’t have time to be spiritual? Don’t think it is for you? But you want stuff – right? Well, here’s a religion for you! This way you can want stuff and feel good about it.

But stuff only leads you away. Things, material possessions, are a quick fix. Get what you want by praying for it, wishing for it, and you have more stuff. But then I feel you will still be empty. And then you’ll need to pray for a bigger house to hold all your stuff.

I think our Creator made us to be bigger than that. We are not born alone. When we are born, we are born into a community. At a minimum our Mom is there. In some cases it seems like the entire family is there – Dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings – where there is barely room for nurses and a doctor (if necessary). Our religions have prayers for welcoming new children among us. Why should our lives be any different?

I remember telling a lady about how Jesus stripped things down for us, because the Ten Commandments were just too hard for us to figure out. Love God, and love your neighbor. Easy. Everything else falls from that – you can’t steal, covet, or murder if you are showing love. How simple is that? Yet we’ve twisted it. It is becoming solely “love yourself” – and that love isn’t spreading outward.

I believe that God created every single one of us exactly the way we are because that is exactly the way we are needed. Variety is good. Eccentricity is good. We all have different talents and gifts. A garden doesn’t look nearly as interesting if it has only roses blooming in it. Add some zinnias and hyacinth and phlox and we’ve got something really cool. The same is true with a symphony. The trumpet may be a really important instrument, but it needs a tuba to round out the bottom notes, and there needs to be a drum section to keep the pace.

I believe that the best way to know God is to seek Him in his creation – and for some, that is in the wilderness. Some find insight and growth by working with plants and animals. I find however, that the most challenge comes in seeking God in people. Mother Teresa said that it was her privilege to serve other people. She felt that each person she served was Jesus in disguise. That the leper’s wounds were Christ’s wounds. That the baby dying in her arms was Christ himself. I think this is a powerful meditation.

About two years ago I started trying this at the library. I’m not doing earth-changing things. I’m creating library cards. I’m solving problems. But I decided to try this. To try to see each person as if they are Jesus, as if they are God made Flesh, in front of me. To my happiness, it resulted in profound experiences. Almost every person caught that vibe. They responded differently to me – more smiles, more open. Each transaction was easier. This doesn’t mean that everybody was happy. Sometimes you can’t make that happen in a five minute encounter. But the old, crotchety, smelly, snaggle-toothed characters that populate the library became my favorites. I now look forward to meeting with them and helping them. The weirder they are, the more I have to look for God hiding within them. The more I look – the more they see my interest in them. The more they soften up and reveal themselves to me. It is beautiful.

I invite you to look outside yourself.

I invite you to know that you are loved, and to then know that everyone else is loved in exactly that same way.

I invite you, that if you are a seeker of God – if you desire to know your Creator better, you can do no better than to serve your fellow humans. Each one is a facet into the beauty and mystery of the Eternal, the Divine, the Truth.

.