"SELF PORTRAIT", 1992, 5' x 4', m/m

“SELF PORTRAIT”, 1992, 5′ x 4′, m/m

I am just getting back from my periodic (every six-eight weeks or so) sojourn to Colorado to see my personal physicist.

I tell her my symptoms and she does something called ‘brain-mapping’ and programs a computer to dispense frequencies my body seems to be lacking.

In my past two trips to see her, the only vibe I actually felt as I received treatment twice / day for 4 days was a pleasant sort of ‘great mother’ buzz..

Infinitely comforting and unfamiliar as this was not a given in my upbringing.

During this trip things registered differently.

She told me that previous work had been to build up my foundation such as digestion and core constitutional strength.

I’ve received marked results each time I’ve seen her that have lasted.

Results are the name of the game for me at this much-progressed point so I keep pulling it together physically and financially and psychically to make the journey once again.

This time, the sensations I felt were all in my brain.

It felt like a peasant and soft scratching or molding inside the brain cavity.

I don’t understand the mechanics of the work she does with me and have little energy to wrap my intellect around it.

What I do know are the tears and anger and irritation that the treatment stirred up in me this time.

They had no recognizable core of origin.

But they wouldn’t stay in their cages.

I slept fitful 14 hour nights comforted by the sound of the TV remote clicking through culturally bereft snapshots in the night of miraculous body-slimming devices and bald undernourished guys preaching the latest multi-vitamin.

I spent too much money on room service as I hadn’t the energy to get down to the restaurant before the next appointment.

She was adamantly trying to get it across to me that I MUST EAT PROTEIN! ORGANIC MEAT!

My body doesn’t really WANT meat these days but I think that is partially because I like eating a clean and mostly raw diet.


And I try it and see that she is right. My energy level goes up markedly within 5 minutes of eating some organic beef.

But I digress…

The gist of this trip was an inadvertent surrender to shadowlands.

I see my effect in the world.

The hotel staff talked about me in their staff meeting as someone with a great attitude and that I should be treated like a V.I.P. That I touched their hearts and should be recognized as such. There is no false front here. I DO seem to be blessed with the ability to take the high road more often than not.

Hearing that they saw and registered my challenges and efforts to connect in spite of them brought tears to my eyes.

I came away feeling uplifted by the miracle of creating connection where there was none.

And also sobered by the world of pre-verbal angst and the inadvertent archive of salty tears that I see are deadly poison if not unleashed and given air time.

Healing is messy.

Healing is connective.

Healing is gorgeously surprising in it’s twists and turns.

And it sucks in the night, alone in a strange hotel room with trust and faith taking turns with despair and terror as bedfellows.

And yet.. the linens were good and the Pinot Noir was deep and red in the restaurant and the cab driver kept showing up on time and the nice Native American man at the airport told me good stories as we waited for our delayed flight and walked right next to me as we boarded, slow and wobbly as I am; he stayed right there and kept me company as all the others passed us by.

Life is good.


One Response to “Threshold”

  1. Judy on April 25th, 2010

    You are not only a gifted visual artist, you are also a wonderful word and life lesson artist.

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