Mana for the Doctor's Soul

Much of my daily work involves people who, for one reason or another, really don't care for themselves very much. This includes people in the role of "healer", "doctor", "nurse", and "therapist" as well as "patient". Some may even feel extreme self-loathing and self-hatred -- but for most of us this is masked. Some escape these painful feelings through non-stop work, figuring that even if we aren't worth loving, we can at least be admired through our accomplishments. It's a compromise. Other escapes include addiction to substances, or chasing after others to supply the love we feel we're missing. None of this ever fills our bottomless need. Theories about how we arrive in such painful, desolate places are plentiful. More fruitful questions might be: "What can I do about this? How do I learn to first care for -- and eventually love -- myself?" The short answer is that it takes a decision, and then moment-to-mom...

Yesterday I posted about Evy McDonald's recovery from ALS and how she did this. Since the context was ho'oponopono and hearing issues , the way Evy's inspirational story came up for me is rather uncanny. I'd like to claim a superior command of academic literature and laserlike intellectual memory, but it had nothing to do with that. Instead, it was due to a song. While reading Jimmy Piver's story about hearing loss, within me I distinctly heard an old friend singing a song he had written and recorded about Evy. Really. Hearing that voice and the wonderful lyrics from several years ago, my heart swelled. My senses came alive. This evoked a Google search, which produced the article I linked for you. Please credit Greg Tamblyn , one of my favorite people and singer-songwriters anywhere, for haunting my musical consciousness. I've enjoyed his songs countless times, including cross-country car trips! And he created a real beauty in "Unconditional Love: The Tru...