Tuesday, April 28, 2015


A wild day at my acupuncturist/MD/friend/fellow MSer's office yesterday.

He cleared a couple of entry-exit blocks, booboo's that keep energy from flowing from one official/meridian to another. Life is much, much, much better when you're unblocked.

Which certainly makes an immediate difference in my own reactions, and experiences, of corporeal malfunction. Things that pre-treatment would make me react very badly, are pretty much observed and then forgotten. It's a much better way to go, I recommend it enthusiastically. (And reminding you that my guy does Classical Five-Element acupuncture, which uses no herbs. Herbalists that do acupuncture are of a different school, and they don't know anything about entry-exit blocks, so don't even ask 'em about such.)

And my poor friend had to go through some ... interesting times. His mother died, in New York somewhere, so he had to dash off across the country to see to all that such things entail; and another of his friends (at least, here in southern California) also died, something neurological but it was basically a very peaceful "just up and died" kinda thing, gentle but sudden.

He has seen, being an MD who used to work in Bellevue and many other Big Hospitals, more than his share of death. And yet, he speaks of it more as a "transition;" the folks I knew in the Science of Mind church also spoke of "making the transition," and Ram Dass speaks of how his own guru one day "let go of his body."

We are eternal; we are beings of light. This thing we are driving around in, this body, is not; and few of us particularly enjoy being reminded of that.

And this is also indeed a gift of MS (not the "death" thing, which comes free from the factory, no matter how we economize or accessorize our vastly entertaining bodies). But it really does bring us every day to the immediate truth of "THIS is what I'm experiencing, an glorious detail" and yet equally immediate, and equally true, is "THIS is not all I am, and it's certainly not what I am."

Remember any time on the freeway. Something happens; an accident, road construction, whatever, but it clogs up the road and you're basically just stuck there, driving-wise, you can't do anything besides just sit.

Does this make you mad? Often; it messes up the arrival time (plus your own mental/emotional state) that you had hoped for--yes, hoped for, not merely "planned on," we don't go enraged if it's all about the clock, it's got a severe chunk of "hoped-for" in it.

Is there anything you can do about it? Well, all sorts of things are on offer--AM radio often has traffic reports, your smart phone/pad/whatever can go to things like Sigalert or Inrix and tell you more, but do about it? Actually do about it?

Great. Weather, traffic, death, and MS are all pretty much the same, at the end of the... anything, no?

But my MS experience has brought me to a very quiet place. Most of my concerns are very simply about alleviating, or if possible avoiding, suffering. I see my own shortcomings more than I used to, to find a place that Ram Dass called "There I go again," and stop going there--but keep witnessing, if I can. And if I can't, to witness non-witnessing is a very good start.

What do I hope to accomplish today? Make a phone call or two, be sure to keep eating, and what I'm actually looking forward to--making tea. My wife brought us some tea from a shop we have never frequented an awful lot--Bird Pick, the Western face of Wing Hop Fung. And the tea in question, one I've never had--Big Red Robe.
A tea never before tried is a joy for anyone, MS or not, connoisseur or not. And the sky today is bright, brilliant, and clear (taking time to just look at the sky is also gift of MS).

That's definitely a gift of MS, it's really a gift of life, it's amazing that it took MS to get me even to notice it.

Bright, brilliant, and clear...

Are wonderful.

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