Most days, our 13-year old son, Horus, meets me at my office in the afternoons, after his Spanish class and his morning shift at the cafe, before he heads to volleyball practice on the beach. He stops by to chat with me, and reconnect, and regale me with the day’s insights.
Last week, he arrived as I was getting ready to shoot a video for an upcoming program. I asked him somewhat hurriedly, if I look “ok” before I turned the camera on, and his wry response was “Oh Yes. You look very spiritual, Mother.” I rolled my eyes and he said, “That’s who you are! My mother, the spiritual wellness hag.”
Horus, beyond anyone else, knows how “spiritual” I really am—spiritual enough to laugh at myself, at the very least.
Like all older children in a family system, he has to some extent borne the brunt of my anxieties, fixations, fears, traumas, and insecurities.
Children know exactly who their parents are, and Horus’ perspicacity and political savvy has meant that I have nothing to hide, because there is no hiding anything from him (or any of my kids), and that’s a gift.
I think back to when I was first a young mother, and I can’t help but recall how terrified and tense and broken I was, so much of the time. I recently posted an image on Instagram of my soft, innocent, angry self, holding my first sweet baby, and my face is that of a different person from who I am now, or at least, a vastly different version of myself.
In those 21 years of mothering (almost to the day), I’ve gone through it all—-all the mistakes and the heartbreak, and then the mitigation methods and the strategies and the retreats and the cleanses and the eliminations and the gurus. And I saw it all:
Some of the sickest people I’ve ever known, are the most devoted to specific wellness diets, plant medicine ceremony, EMF-mitigation strategies, yoga, working out, meditation, pilates, toxin-free lifestyles, dieta, therapy, linen tunics, shilajit, . Etc.
Some of the healthiest people I’ve ever known, pay very little attention to the specifics of what they eat, or the kind of purification process their water goes through before it’s structured correctly.
Substance is immaterial. Energetic conditions determine all.
Food is irrelevant. Nourishment is everything.
My grandpa died four years ago at the age of 96. Every time he was served a dish of food, he would proclaim “This is the best soup I’ve had all day.” And he meant it. He lived it every single moment.
Anyone who knew him, knew this was an authentic exclamation—a commitment to gratitude and contentedness, but also an invocation; A co-creation with God; A commitment to God, via the power of the word.
The world of “wellness” can be as consumptive and grasping as allopathy is corrupt and counterproductive.
The urge to fix can be as compulsive and rooted in dis-ease, as is the the thing in us we seek to repair.
In losing ourselves to the method, we forget how powerful we are, in our essence.
All healing derives from the internal state of our being.
Now is the time to get right with Source, for real.
Who are you, from that perspective?
What do you do?
What do you not do?
Who are you for?
How does that feel?
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