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New Years New Tears – Healing the Self

February 10, 2015
Healing the self

I made a funny comment about Starbucks on facebook yesterday, a couple of days before that I woke up and I did not remember getting in bed and yet here I set listening to zen garden pandora pondering the ways of healing the self.

Years ago I wrote a private blog about how difficult it was to sleep because of this horrible rash that had developed all over my body. Long story short after being on three different drugs and misdiagnosed three times my caretaker had to do a biopsy. Final diagnosis, nummular dermatitis.

What the hell is that?

Who knows? I basically have a “chronic condition” which means I could be allergic to air for all they know. Well, I have my own theory about these outbreaks as during the last few days they have returned. I have no desire to return to that personal hell.

I know why it’s happening again. I’m out of sync with myself. The body doesn’t like how I’m treating it of late. My state of mind is would up in this new-found stress of taxes, insurance, the state of the nation and other things hardly within the grasp of my control. I’m getting old. I feel like this is it. And while part of me has very little problem with that there are a few days when I go back to feeling as if I am “not enough,” rather than just feeling “I am.” My once therapist might remind me of my shame spirals and my tendency to abuse alcohol.

I used to lay there and feel the energy spinning inside of me, hitting the edge of my skin from the inside, nowhere to go.

Put all that aside. Last night I lay there with that same tingling feeling underneath my skin, all of it. I resist the urge to scratch cause I know this just makes welts, bumps and makes me look even more like some lizard person with raised skin all over. It has happened.

Now here’s where I get serious (though this isn’t the Sunday Soapbox). Unless I’m wrong and I don’t think I am, I am on the verge of some new understanding of my body, a greater unity of mind, body and for lack of a better word, spirit.

That old Borders building in Chicago recently made the news as it’s getting turned into a gym; maybe I’ll join that gym. While I was managing that Borders I read about so many things (around 200+ books) primarily metaphysics, physics and religion… in search of some great answer to all. During these readings I encountered numerous texts concerning chakras, energetic centers that exist within the body. I was fascinated.


I explored the idea of these main centers within our energetic spectrum, visualizing them, activating them, making them “spin” if you will. What I have to understand as of last night is that I have a spiritual “blockage” I guess. And I have to say that this “blockage” derives directly from my belief in God, or rather in the Western understanding of God. I have long abandoned my Christian upbringing because it is simply unhealthy but that does not mean that I am no longer haunted with the daunting dogmatic dilemma.

As I lay there last night I envisioned this spinning, these vibrations, the very energy inside of my not just hitting the inside of my skin but rather radiating out of me. I lay there in the night, excepting all my sins, loving my every loss freeing myself of this idea of absolute judgement. I became darkly radiant.

I have a lot to give this world, either on a one-to-one or a one-to-all ratio but what I ultimately give is my own decision, as it is for all of us. Too much whiskey might be fun on occasion but I want to be past that point in my life… plus who enjoys feeling their insides die.

We all have our demons and we all have our angels but none of them hold us to a greater judgement, a know-all, end-all supreme being. I release myself of this nonsense. And a random thanks to Stephen Fry.

Let’s get it all out-of-the-way with new years and new tears and discover better ways of healing the self.

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