It’s a beautiful sunny day before the summer solstice and my retirement ceremony. The numbers have swollen from 21 to 43 overnight and I’m fretting about whether there will be enough food and chairs. Other than that, I am at peace with this change, anticipating time to heal, think and explore deeper levels which I can bring back to share.
This past month has seemed endless, each day feeling like a week, time slowed down to a crawl. It made me a little crazy, to be honest, my mind frantic at letting go of my identity, my heart breaking at losing a wonderful team and not watching my patients stretch into their healing on a regular basis. But at this moment, I’m enjoying the slowness, listening to the birds, noticing the breeze waving the branches.
It’s a strange mix of sensations: my body is in more pain than ever and at the same time I feel young inside, full of potential and ready to grow in new ways. When I go to sleep at night, I feel delicious if I breathe down under all the aches and waking up I sometimes wonder who this is. Evolving, at least that’s what I hope is happening, grin, is definitely disorienting. Makes me think of the caterpillar to butterfly analogy…a totally new creature…without any control on my part except to give it room to happen…
Although, having written that I need to acknowledge all the help I have: my EMDR therapist, Mary Ann Carmichael, who I often credit with saving my life; shamanic teacher Ilka Marcenay, whose recent session allowed me to be more open and vulnerable; Jennifer Presley’s energy work which increases my awareness about the number of past influences still stick in my being; to my pleasant surprise, Sheila Earl, with her gentle manner and Heilkunst remedies, which gradually lift off layers of these negative influences and allow my vital force to re-emerge; and of course my wonderful staff who bend over backwards to make my way forward possible in spite of losing their jobs as part of the process. I am profoundly grateful and intend to give back all that I can when on my feet again.
On another level, our family is working hard to do what’s best for my grandson Felix. My daughter, Felix’s mother Coral, and her partner Ashley are planning to move into my house October 1. We’ve been having heavy discussions about potential issues and solving some along the way. The turning point came when Coral’s father told us to get on with it and be committed to making this work. I’m going to divide the house in half and give them the larger half. I get to downsize four decades of stuff, mostly paper, in three months—perfect! We’ll enlist the services of a counsellor to help us along the way. I’ll keep you posted, smile.
The young man in question has been going through major changes himself at the ripe age of 5 1/2. After endless fits of rage related to control issues, I finally made him a Bach remedy. Two weeks later one of our caregivers asked me what I’d done to Felix, as he was a totally different child, able to listen and be consistently kind. Then he made friends with Ilka the shaman, who invited him into the sweat lodge. He enthusiastically joined in for the first section. That evening he chanted an Algonquin song for hours, correcting my pronunciation when I tried to sing along. The next day he was exhausted, a very unusual state for him. At night he spiked a sudden fever and next morning he peed about a litre—all classic signs of healing according to German New Medicine.
I’ll end this post with a case for acute homeopathy. Felix and I were both experiencing sore throats with tender, swollen glands on our necks. After a couple of days I looked up a remedy and found Mercurius, which I had never used. It took 20 minutes and both of our throats and glands were back to normal. This is the kind of information I plan to teach in monthly classes starting in September—I LOVE naturopathic first aid and acute prescribing!
That’s it for now. I’ll continue writing monthly updates even after the clinic closes to stay in touch.