Rattling the Bones

On Saturday, JZ and I were waiting in the car while GP ran into a store to get some pasta. The parking lot was busy with people. For a little while we watched in silence until JZ asked:” What are you thinking?” I chuckled at first noticing how dark my thoughts had been. I pointed to a few individuals and explained how some of their behaviours translated cultural or religious programming. I showed JZ how most of us wear our insecurities, our fears and our lack of self-confidence on our sleeves. He seemed fascinated as well as impressed with how much I could read from a facial expression and a simple demeanour or posture. Ironically what disappointed me the most was how little affection people showed each other. In the city you can literally get lost in a crowd. It’s rare to see perfect strangers acknowledging each other. If you’ve ever eavesdropped on other people’s conversations you can easily validate the fact that people constantly repeat the same complaints and tell ea...

Hands-on-healing starts making sense to me, when I start watching people’s reaction to today’s modern culture and natural environment. My son was seven years old when he was operated on for his tonsils. They were unusually large and often infected for years. I tried every thing to by pass surgery but in the end, it was the only treatment that would truly work for him. I remember seeing the fear in his eyes when the nurses literally dragged him into surgery. The only way he managed to relax is when I promised to be there when he woke up. It took a lot to actually hold that promise because the nurses didn’t exactly want me to be by his side in the post-surgical room. Nevertheless, I was there when he opened his eyes. I remember the way he looked at me at waking. He was surprised to see me and totally happy. “You’re here mommy,” he said as if he hadn’t really believed it when I made the promise. I massaged his arms, his back and his iv hand that day to relieve pain, to appease ...