|
page
2 of 3
1
/ 2 / 3
home
contents
of issue 73/74
back
issues
the
gazette
recipes
small
ads
contacting
us
weblinks
|
All the time I was secretly driven by a desperation to find a cure. It
was a challenging battle that I just stopped fighting last November. I
laid down my armour and my weapons to sit by the bedside of my friend
and Reiki master as he lay dying. He was a deeply spiritual man who had
walked his own very unique path through life and illness. Here in his
dying he gathered around him those who would hold respect for his wishes
and if necessary help to carry him the last mile.
One afternoon I watched him sleeping in the same way that I used to watch
my children when they were babies, he had the same cosy look of peace
and contentment. He opened his eyes for a second, smiled at me knowingly
before going back to sleep. He was frail and very weak but nevertheless
so very whole. Suddenly it made some kind of sense to me; when you're
this whole it's okay to die. Then it struck me how ridiculous my quest
for a 'cure' was. Somehow I was missing the point.
The therapists who treat me always start with me as I am now, today. Here
after years of fruitless searching I had to admit to myself that wanting
a cure wasn't so much about being well as about being afraid, so that's
where I need to start.
There is a well-known Taoist saying that goes: "A thousand mile journey
begins with the first step." On the day my friend died I couldn't
find my shoes, ironically we had the same size feet. I left his house
wearing his moccasins as I trod the same path but
|
|