Just Plenty

I had one of those moments this morning on the way to work, one of those kick in eye moments, one of those moments where you know you're healing.

I once went to a healer, and it was honestly a little more new agey and woo woo than I would normally care to deal with, but I was in a fairly desperate situation. The healing involved my lying down and the healer putting herself into a near trance state. She went through a list of things that she was getting from me and I knew that if there stood a chance for this to work, I needed to let go of preconceptions and leap into this unreserved.

It's difficult to dredge up exact memories of what I was told or what I felt; it's reminiscent of putting yourself wholly into some creative endeavor, where there are only hazy, shadowy memories of what you just did. I was told that in a past life I was myself a powerful healer and had the ability to heal myself. I was told that I was holding onto a mother figure within me, that we had been together for ages and ages, and now it was time to let her go. I remember weeping uncontrollably, the healer asking if I was okay and my shaking voice reassuring her that I was just fine.

The point is, when I feel those moments like this morning, I equate it to something kicking over inside and the healer within me coming forward.

It was the perfect combination of just the right point of "Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse, and the cold air on my face, and the early pale spring morning sun shyly brushing the bricks around me, and the green shoots of the trees... I was hit by a strong, but far too short feeling of hope. Not the light in the darkness hope, but the remembrance of everyday magic.

Then "I'm A Steady Rollin' Man" by Robert Johnson came on, and I thought to myself, "Yeah, I AM a steady rollin' man."

I reminded myself to hold onto the images of the world shaking itself back to life, hold onto the blinding smile your son flashes you when he sees you first thing in the morning, hold onto your wife telling you that she loves you, hold onto the feelings of love from friends, hold onto the kind words and the even small rewards granted after immense struggle. This is how you heal, by not taking your own life for granted.


Song Stuck In My Head Right Now: "Living On A Prayer" by Bon Jovi. Seriously, it's not funny. My god, it's bad and getting desperate.