Healing – it’s an art!


I was having a conversation with Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless a little while ago.  SWSRN had gone for a day out and was persuaded to see a tarot reader.  The tarot reader went into paroxysms of delight as she picked up that SWSRN was in fact, probably better equipped to read than she was.

In amongst sighs of happiness (the reader’s) and spasms of slight irritation (SWSRN’s – who simply wanted a reading not a fecking conversation about the merits of healing or other esoteric subject), the subject of Who She Worked With came up and the reader got me spot on.

So far, so good.  Then the reader got all excited again and wanted to discuss the process.  So … how do you do it? she asked.  Several moments passed as several answers swirled around SWSRN’s head …none of them ones she wanted to share.

This is because her honest answer was – my best healing is done either on the loo or last thing night, after I have rolled a joint.

Now SWSRN lives in a VERY busy house – spouse, lodgers, kids, visitors, etc., etc.  It is rare that she has a moment to herself. In fact, just about the only time is when she is on the loo.  So that is when she concentrates and does her best work.  Second best is when spouse is asleep and she has taken her sleepy medicine (not exactly prescribed but works just as well).

Why was she reluctant to mention this?  Well, first of all, no-one wants to admit that they do their best work whilst on the porcelain potty or whilst smoking an illegal drug.  This kind of detracts from the sacred nature of what we do.  Or does it?

At what point does the sacred become the profane?  Or the profane become the sacred?  Does an honest prayer, sent up in a moment of concentration and peace mean less than a scattered, thoughtless gesture in a serene Godly environment?

I do my best healing work two glasses of wine (but no more than four) in.  That said, I have also done great healing work half cut (the experience that came with it was remarkable but not something I want to repeat too often); or sprawled across some stairs in a state of distress (separate incident, see the post entitled Grace); done excellent protective work in the middle of the street; been deep in terror of losing one of my cats and still done it.  I have been without faith, prayed for it without truly believing it would work, but it has.

I have come to the conclusion that it is not the surroundings that make it a sacred act, but the intent.  Channelling healing, love and care does not require a sacred circle, fifteen candles of the right colours, the correct script and the genuine tools according to some medieval manuscript; nor does it need specific words chanted in correct order and twenty corresponding herbs.  It just needs honest, thoughtful care and love.

As for SWSRN, I believe she fluffed the question away and moved on. Good lady :-).

 

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About titflasher

Writer, blogger, animal activist, people activist, dream-catcher maker, mommy to 9 cats and a roving band of foxes ... Blog name comes from my father's suggestion for the title of my autobiography ... after my mother's and my awful habit of flashing whenever the security police took our photo in the dark old days of apartheid South Africa. I love nature, including creepy crawlies and people, find life fascinating and frustrating and have two terrible weaknesses - nictotine and animals in distress ... can't abide the latter situation and can't give up the former. I'm Pagan but not anti-Christian, funny but quite serious, light-hearted but can be annoying. I am warm-hearted until someone p*sses on me too much, then I get soggy and even. Feel free to link me but all the words on these pages is copyrighted, so copy it and take the credit and I will find you and slap you upside the head, hard. The blog is probably best read via category as there is loads on here already, and I just got started :-)
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