I need to go back to basics. There are times when I seem to have got the measure of it all – how it is to have a chronic and disabling condition like M.E. and the reality of living one’s life to a different drumbeat, or no drumbeat at all. There are days when one watches the branches of the trees in the distance, the ones just beyond the house with the grey slate roof opposite mine (I know this view so well, I see it from my bed) and one simply is in the moment, the day, the week, the year of the life that must be lived according to how things are. Then something comes along and clobbers you. Well it’s still real life, so why not? There is nothing like the promise of a cure or the suggestion that you could actually cure yourself if you really wanted to by doing this course, that programme, consulting this practitioner, guru, quack, all-purpose wondertreatment. We have been there so many times, have we not? And still it comes atcha and pulls the rug from under your feet. Even though you are quite certain that those who come touting the latest “cure” and bestowing their saccharine blessings on your unconverted head did not have M.E. in the first place.
But hey. I am sitting in bed using the laptop tray thingy again and the toxicity seems to have mostly evaporated, so perhaps this will be my new friend after all. Son of Signs is home and I am shortly off to see him in concert, playing cello with the youth orchestra. Daughter has been accepted onto a prestigious young writers’scheme by a London theatre, on the strength of something she has written. Mr. Signs is happy, the cat is responding to homoeopathic remedies.
But by the pricking of my thumbs, something dodgy this way comes. It’s just me that is not quite the ticket.
8 comments:
Oh Signs, those promises of the miracle cure ...
I was contemplating doing 'the process' because I know a trainee practitioner. I'm skeptical although curious at the same time. If I am being honest, I see it as a potentially useful tool which may help in *some* situations but I still fail to see how it could reverse a chronic illness in 3 days.
We all fall for it though, a bit like buying a lottery ticket. You're buying hope, and you think, well maybe .... just maybe .....
I had a conversation with someone who claims to be recovered from ME (although I suspect that she suffers with depression and not ME as I have experienced it). Her exact words to me were, "You can recover any time you want!" Any time I WANT??!! I asked her why I didn't recover years ago. It is annoying to encounter the attitude that illness is something we have chosen and that the 'cure' is to make the choice not to be ill any more. If only ...
Digi, this You can recover any time you want! mantra is going around like an infectious disease. The subtext is that if we don't recover it's because we don't really want to or haven't yet seen the light.
If you are referring to the LP, I did 'the process' in December 07, I really gave it my best shot and yes, it's a potentially useful tool but I do not believe that it is likely to cure someone M.E., no matter how many people they show who claim to be cured after the three-day programme.
EFT is the new thing in these parts - it's all about tapping acupressure points and affirmations. Nothing wrong with that, and again, it may well be useful for all kinds of things. There are a growing number of evangelists. I tried this too, and so did Mr. S when he had a cold, without success.
Of course we keep trying, of course we keep wanting - and are vulnerable to every new thing that comes shouting hallelujah.
There is no panacea. Like there is no Utopia. It's all a muddle, and that's the idea.
Welcome to starting all over again. Zen mind, beginner mind. Every moment afresh.
Courage, dear friend, courage.
Lovely Zhoen - the right words coming the right time - always a door one can walk through. Beginner mind, of course.
I fall in those traps too. For some reason when I think about cures today it's reminding me of Heffalumps.
I think I need to copy down Zhoen's words and keep them handy myself!
Here's to brighter days.
Rachel, heffalumps? They are those nice Winnie the Pooh creatures that live in a forests quite near me. Or are we the heffalumps that fall into the traps?
I have eaten a lot of buns today, that's for sure.
Hev you become used to the toxity rather?
I hate these "You can recover any time you want!" mantra's. I think they get people to lie to themselves through guilt. Or dig at their own self esteem.
Only one person can do that sort of thing, and his name was Jesus.
I think it has just evaporated, Kahless.
Just going to have a word with Jeepers about all this.
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