DR. CURITY'S SECRET TREATMENT

Her friend had warned Kathy that no conventional methods would be used. Still she swore by him and assured, without hesitation, that his exorbitant fee was worth it.

Kathy reluctantly kept her appointment. She waited the better part of an hour. Then the receptionist, a kind and gentle old woman with a pasted smile, dressed in fairy-like frilly, pastel colored clothes, glided down the narrow hall leading Kathy to the room where Dr. Curity performed his famous, secret treatment.

Dr. Curity, a short, stout, man dressed in white, whose face was crowned with one tiny streak of hair across his balding scalp, greeted her with a thunderous voice devoid of affect.

"Sit!" he commanded. "Talk to me."

"Uh, well, I ... Actually, I thought you were a chiropractor. So, I came because I keep getting this pain in my neck. I've gone to several doctors but all they do is prescribe strong pain killers. "

"Uh huh." muttered the doctor, while yawning, eyes tearing in response to his immense boredom. Sluggishly he rose from his huge, comfortable chair and retrieved two objects from a closet.

"Here. Drink all eight of these pills at exactly 6 am tomorrow. Then rub the gnarlywhat five times over your stomach. Afterwards, you can throw it away or keep it as a paperweight. Good-bye."

Kathy remained stunned by the deluge of angry emotions and disbelief she felt as Dr. Curity vanished through the door. Fuming rage, she left.

The night was exhausting. Squirming and turning in her sheets, Kathy struggled to sleep but when she was able to drift off, she would awaken startled, thinking she saw Dr. Curity's strange receptionist, a specter, gliding across the floor. At 5:55 am Kathy finally got up, determined not to even think of taking those pills or rubbing that silly contraption over her stomach.

At 6 am Kathy shrugged her shoulders and performed the scientific ritual. "What the heck, I already paid for this."

That day Kathy broke up with her boyfriend. When she got home that evening instead of the heartache and tears she expected, she sighed deeply and felt an illusive, uncanny relief.

The following day Kathy threw away the empty jar of pills, but decided to keep the gnarlywhat as a conversation piece. She totally forgot about her pain in the neck until she received an itemized bill for $800.00. Each sugary pill cost $100.oo. The gnarlywhat was a gift from Dr. Curity, a misguided and frustrated amateur sculptor.

____________________

"It is reasonable to expect the doctor to recognize that science may not have all the answers to problems of health and healing."

Norman Cousins

*********

Once again thank you Tess Kincaid for the challenging picture prompt at Magpie Tales.

THE GULF OIL SPILL - LET THE HEALING BEGIN

CELEBRATE!!!

We are being told that the oil well is sealed or almost sealed. That's absolutely great! I am certain all sea creatures, the waters, the sands, corals, algae, the people of the Gulf coast and the entire Universe are rejoicing.



I am so glad. I am not sure what the companies involved intend to do, or can do to repair the damage but I hope they do not limit their focus to paying their legal debts, though I realize how important that is. I hope they also try to make amends to the ocean and its creatures.



As usual, I ask myself, "What can I do? My trite response makes me feel even more helpless, "Practically speaking, not much." I had a long, drawn out argument with myself - "Yes, do it." "No don't. People are tired of hearing about the Gulf, they may think you're a naive, silly, nagging Pollyanna." I won the dispute and decided that the least I could do was to humbly serve as a reminder.



Let's not forget. Let's keep sending our donations, prayers, good thoughts and energy to that region. The disaster affected us all. I'm sure the healing will too.



I received an email this morning informing me of a 30 minute Global Meditation that is taking place August 8, 2010 at 8pm, Pacific Standard Time. Just wanted to pass this on so anyone who is so inclined can participate. I'm planning to. It can do no harm, and I think it could benefit us all. So, why not? Meditation has been proven to positively affect a significantly large radius; decreasing crime in California. Imagine the benefits of a Global effort to heal the Gulf. For more information - http://www.healingthegulf.com/.



I bet you didn't know I could telepathically talk to the animals. They're saying any help is welcome. I'm telling them we won't let them down.

REMEDIES - THE NON-PRESCRIPTION KIND

I just enjoyed dancing a merengue all by myself, risking that someone in the house may intrude and judge me as being a little crazy. The merengue is a Latin dance, which originated in The Dominican Republic. Percussion dominates the quick, repetitive and energising tempo and the singer is often proclaiming his or her celebration of love, a happy life and sometimes of music itself. For me music and dance, are medicine and I need some healing today. Alone I swayed until my malady shrunk... a little.

It was a glorious morning, typical of this time of year - bright sun, the air was still, the view surreal and as usual my first greeting was directed at the mountains, which stand tall and proud allowing nothing to move or upset them. I envied their strength and neutrality.

Her stubby tail shook like a windshield wiper gone wild to demonstrate her glee. Daisy was glad for the day and anticipated the treats which she has trained me to provide each morning, for no reason at all, except that she is Daisy. I wish I could love everyone like that, for no reason, just because they are.

Like Daisy, my morning routines are usually filled with joy, with anticipation and openness to whatever surprises may show up. But not this morning. I drank my coffee without relish. Ordinarily, I practically do a happy dance as I taste the first swig of my favorite elixir. But it held no magic fix. It left me flat.

For some incomprehensible reason, my mood was low, my bubble of positivity was burst. Nothing in particular deflated it, but the energy that kindles joy eluded me today and I found myself persistently looking for ways to spark my Spirit.

Luckily, I know the truth. I am not my mood. It's just a passing mist being sprayed into this dream of mine which I'm told is an illusion, yet, seems so real. I sigh as I dismiss my feeble attempts at philosophizing. Dream or not, I'd like to feel better.

So, I try to process what's wrong, but nothing surfaces. I meditate and quiet my thoughts. Strangely, I am more able to observe them today as they meander by, thinking they're important. I dismiss them easily, but the mood persists.

It's like a fog that filtered into my psyche while I was sleeping. Maybe it's all symbolic of what is actually dark and sinister, and lurking in my soul. Its dark night. How can that be? I've worked so hard at guiding my Spirit upward, high, to let in the Light. But, so much in life is inexplicable, mysterious and obscure that I must simply accept it. It is.

I'm aware that the strong mood is trying to identify with me, to convince me that we are indistinguishable, the same. I don't really have the energy to confront the question - "If I'm not my mood, who am I?" I'll just allow the question to dangle in silence. The response is out there and within me, but it's best enveloped in the void, for now.

The illusion of I that I am wants to feel better. But, I am resigned. Sometimes, it's best to just let it be, to just be and not fight so hard. Maybe the mood mist is intended to wake me up, to let me feel a deeper truth, to get me to be still. Instead, I danced.

I sigh again as I sense a familiar little flicker. A flash of energy just sparkled. I recognize this process. It's the beginning of the end. All fog lifts eventually, and mine is initiating a launch.

I am feeling better. I think I'll go dance again. Although music claims to soothe the soul, it ignites my Spirit. I am grateful for this remedy. Writing was medicinal too. Thank you for joining me. May we all find our remedies and antidotes and take our medicine well. May we seek out our own healing and direct our voyage back to our true selves.