“Do you know,” she set the stage, “there are people who’ve learned to heal themselves?
“How can you possibly know that?”
“‘Because I’m one.”
The silence was deafening.
“That’s’cause you’re never sick.”
“That’s half the answer,” she replied. “But I had to learn to get well and stay well before I learned the art of self-healing.”
“Nope. It is an art and it was years in the making. Paid off, too.”
“Might’s well sit down. She’s gonna expound like it or not.”
“You can leave.”
“Nope. Food and wine and goofy conversation are too good to miss.”
“Especially the food and wine part.”
She fluffed her hair and took center stage. “Do you know there are very few people who’ve ever experienced good health? They chug along with aches and pains and ailments. It’s kind’a what they become. One big ache, pain and ailment. Symptoms galore. Ignored until they run to the pill pushers to relieve them.”
“Pill pushers. She means the doctor.”
“Yep. They treat the symptoms. Out’a sight, out’a mind. Ignore what caused ’em. To learn the art of self-healing you go for the gold. Why do I have this dam headache anyway…”
“Have another glass of wine.”
“…well certainly not because I lack aspirin.”
” We’ll give you that one.”
“When the self-healer sets out on her long lonely scary journey, she stops labeling symptoms and focuses on what happened to her body that caused the symptoms to appear in the first place.”
“How does she do that?” This sceptic crunched a noisy cracker.
“That’s the kind’a talk got witches burned in the Dark Ages.”
“True. But understand, I’m not a healer. I can’t heal you, you have to learn to heal yourself. We’re not gingerbread men. What keeps me healthy is not gonna be what keeps you healthy. And what keeps me healthy will change as the situation changes. I try nutrition first, that’s the number one rule. A fast is often good. Clean out the toxins. You gotta learn how to do that. At first it’s kind’a scary. Since I started this life lesson I’ve had to ‘pull’ myself through three nasties and every time I said, “This is the time I ain’t gonna make it.”
“Guess we can discount a ‘positive thinking’ attitude.”
“Religion and spiritual dimensions too. I just had a bout with a really fierce scary. I knew I was gonna croak. I dressed up in a pair of two hundred-dollar cashmere sweats, had ’em for ages. My husband bought ’em for me years ago-pass me some of the good smelling stuff-and I’ve been really good about not wearing them out to clean the barn. You know what else? I hauled out my new manuscript Children of the Extinction and my red pencil-I love to edit- figured I’d go out in style. Prob’ly look a mess but a classy mess. Drama is my style and it’s almost as good as dying with my boots on don’cha think?”