“Something must have shifted, thank God, even if I’m not sure what it is.”
Feeling much calmer today and it seems as if a new door has opened. After a few cancellations on my part, I finally got to see that healer yesterday and I’ve no idea what he did, but something has definitely changed. It’s subtle, and it’s not like the pain is gone, but yes, there has been a change of some kind.
I’d love to tell you about it – I know you’d be fascinated. I miss our friendship, Mark. Couldn’t we at least be friends? A rhetorical question for the moment, I guess. Who knows if you’re reading these letters, or if you ever will? Maybe you’ve just pulled the shutters down forever on what we had. I’m going to keep writing to you anyway. Like I said, it helps me cope when I imagine you still care enough about me to be interested in what’s happening in my little life. I’ll deal with that illusion later when I’m feeling strong and am ready to wean myself off it. Was it all just an illusion anyway?
But back to my; first experience of hands-on healing! Cian is a very sweet guy, and not really what I expected from a healer. I guess part of me thought I’d be meeting a long-haired hippy (my type of guy!), perhaps in his late fifties. Instead he was younger, with a business background and not an ounce of hippy in sight. Both he and the workspace were very professional. Why might I have thought otherwise?
What was different though, was that he gave me a choice of whether to talk about what was going on in my life or not. It was such a relief not to have to talk through the whole thing again. I feel like I’ve talked it to death these last few weeks, both in my head and with friends, looking for a clue that will either give me reason to be hopeful or a way of making peace with what has happened. I just let him take the lead instead – although the way he put it was ‘let’s see what your body has to say’.
Basically what happened was that I lay down on the massage bench, he put his hand on me and… well, I just passed out so I’ve no idea what he did apart from stand there with his hand on my stomach! It reminded me of going for acupuncture, where you’re left to float off while the needles do their work. There was nothing for me to do except relax – and I had one of the deepest sleeps I’ve had in a long time, even if it was only about half an hour. I felt so comfortable, and comforted, by his presence and his trust in the process. That alone was worth paying him for, even if nothing else ever came of it. But the hope that he might be able to lift the pain, and return me to some sense of normality again, is really what I’m going to him for.
When I surfaced from my deep sleep at the end of the session, he was standing looking at me quizzically. I think he expected me to have felt something, and I would have loved to have said ‘yes, the earth moved and I saw lights’. Truth is, though, all I felt was grateful relief for his simple acceptance of me as I am, without the need to explain myself.
As I stepped back out the street again afterwards, though, things seemed different. The best way I can describe it is that it was like some kind of veil had been lifted from around me. The day seemed brighter, the colors more vivid, smells more noticeable – everything just more alive. It was like my sense of connection with the world had been deepened or revived in some way.
And as I retraced my steps back to the office, all I kept thinking was ‘this is what I want to do’. I know without a doubt that I want to learn to do this too, whatever it is that he does. I know it’s not a logical thing, given that I’m already well into my naturopathy course and barely have time to take on more alongside that and the day job. As I write this, I’m suddenly realizing that I don’t even have any idea how healing works or even proof that it brings results. Yet I feel drawn to the depth and mystery of it, as if it’s somehow already part of who I am, like part of me knows all about it already and all I need is a reminder.
I remember nights of trying to ease others’ pain and discomfort by placing my hands on their body – previous lovers or children in my care. It’s probably a very natural thing, to lay hands on someone to make them more comfortable. Maybe we’ve all just forgotten how to do it, have lost confidence in our innate abilities. Maybe we’re just scared to get too close to each-other, with our fears, insecurities and expectations. We’re happy to share a social hug and cheek-kiss but try greeting someone with a proper, belly to belly, hug and watch their discomfort.
Hey, wouldn’t that be a novel revolution – if we had to give everyone we met a proper, heart-felt, hug? Imagine all that increased contact in the world. What would happen? Would we all realize how silly our artificial boundaries are? Or would we all become raving sex addicts, spurred on to frenzy by the extra contact? The former, I think – with maybe a touch of the latter among those who have been severely deprived and need to make up for lost time.
I’m getting totally side-tracked now – and starting to sound like John Lennon, which is probably not a good thing given how his life ended. What is good is the fact that I’m talking about something else other than us for a change, and enthusiastically too.
Something must have shifted, thank God, even if I’m not sure what it is. Please let it keep shifting!
Talk again soon, my precious man.
(The Blog Novel of the Letters unfolds here weekly during the autumn and winter. If you’d like to be alerted as they are published, please just ‘follow’ my blog)