Around fourteen years ago I received a diagnosis of a precancerous condition, a severe cervical dysplasia, right before I was leaving for a summer in Brussels, Belgium. The typical treatment at that time was cryotherapy–freezing off the abnormal cells of the cervix. Because I had no time for this treatment before leaving, I decided that I would explore alternative healing methods while I was abroad. This led me to a naturopath in the Netherlands who dowsed my body to find the right diet for me and also to an ashram in the Belgian Ardennes where I received a couple of shamanic healings and met some very interesting people.
This isn’t a story about my healing of the disease, which did happen after almost a decade of experimentation. It’s not a story about what happened in Belgium, either. In fact, it isn’t a story at all. It’s a tangent to how I met a Facebook friend named Simon who I don’t actually know, but who is a real-life friend of a couple of the people I met in the ashram. He’s one of those few people who posts meaty and posts often, one of the few who I will always read what he says. I’m honestly captivated by much of what he writes, and inspired by how much he lives what he preaches.
Anyway, he has a “Q&A” section of his blog that I decided to try as a limited experiment in breaking out of a mental paralysis that has taken hold of me the past few months.
Here’s the first question:
Explain what you do in 100 words.
Because of my internal tug-of-war between what I’m doing and what I wish I was doing, I end up drifting, mentally scattered and physically a zombie, an effect of my prior creations. I float just above an accumulating anxiety that craves a big picture when it knows only that nothing can be known. I allow myself to be distracted from the existential crisis that consumes me by the daily responsibilities that don’t go away, but I’m pulled into those beta-wave spaces unwillingly. Sometimes I love, and that feels right. I want to cause my life, but not without vision, will, and desire. I try to focus inwards and to evoke my joy, and I keep hoping that this is enough.