my healing

There was a time, that felt like an eternity, when lifting a cup of tea, or holding a small book to read in bed, was becoming difficult, and walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, could be a titanic quest...
I would still do the chores of daily life, with the best possible attitude but, without noticing, I started choosing a smaller cup, reading less, and while in the kitchen, I was braking my claypots, one after the other, by accidentally clashing against the counters; my weakness coupled with an uncharacteristic clumsiness, born of spatial and vision distortion.

If I was feeling energized and strong enough for venturing out on a short stroll (that could leave me exhausted for a week), I had to make sure my shoes were light, that my purse or pockets were nearly empty, surely without any coins, too heavy!... Of course, I'd go out only if holding my beloved's hand, for balance, as I vertiginously felt I was falling, on each step...

I kept getting worse, in spite of many medical tests, and various diagnosis, that included food allergies and environmental sensitivities, as well as autoimmune disorders, etc.
Nowadays, this piling up of medical issues is considered by some, to stem directly from early trauma. Or even, from trauma in our lineage, or other lifetimes, if you are inclined towards reincarnation.
Finally, several doctors agreed on the same: “MS”.

What? I didn't have the faintest idea about what this meant, but, when doing some rather depressing research, I learnt that “Multiple Sclerosis” was a terrible illness, considered progressive and incurable. I also realized it did look precisely like I felt... And while tests where inconclusive, the doctors insisted that could happen sometimes, but I had all the clinical symptoms, which mattered more.

Right then, I met a lovely woman, that happened to have the same devastating diagnosis.
Along with the support of family and friends, she had the best doctors, the best insurance, and in her kitchen, an impressive collection of (the best!) prescribed medications, she obediently took each day.
The main ones, designed not to heal, but to suppress her immune system, in order to hopefully diminish her symptoms. The rest of the remedies, were meant to deal with some of the severe “side effects” from the first ones...

I found that logic to be quite sad, but most importantly, I got to see how she was doing, on what was the best medical treatment available for the issue at the time. Not too well.
She would hide it with remarkable talent, but it was visible to me... in spite of her delightful spirit, positive attitude, and deep courage. In spite of her picture perfect makeup and hair, her impeccable attire, jewelry, and elegant stance, at all times.  

I was  a recent immigrant, far from family and friends, and didn't have insurance... so I was experimenting with what I could, on a very low budget, with approaches that required trial and error, a lot of discipline, effort, and patience.
My new friend's husband once told her, with a hint of exasperation that pained me for her: “Why don't you try some of Luna's weird things?!” - Well, my “weird things” were really helping me cope, but they would take a while to deliver deeper healing.

Around that time, I met another woman, who's daughter seemed to have permanent sequels, from the very Spinal Tap meant to confirm her diagnose of MS... Oh, the irony.
I am really not suggesting this is true for all, but for me, this was confirming again that what the medical establishment was offering me then, at a great cost, not only would not cure the issue, but could also adversely affect my overall health and wellbeing.

Within my means, I started getting some professional help, that progressed from “integrative”, to “alternative”, ...to full on exotic. Say, from “special” doctors, to acupuncture and naturopathy; from a couple of incredibly strict diets, to the removal of a few mercury fillings, to the most painful massages you can imagine, and so on. Shamans, healers, psychics... you name it.
Nothing seemed to add much to what I did at home, a self prescribed, intuitive treatment with an emphasis on lifestyle, wholesome foods, supplements, and my devoted daily practices...

Soon after that I got divorced, adding another giant wave to the perfect storm I was already navigating. In the absence of my beloved, I had to hold my own hand, and walk very haltingly, on a challenging pilgrimage of several years in total, to deal with what doctors in different countries had labeled as “Multiple Sclerosis”.

In spite of my weakness, of barely being able to carry the weight of my skinny body, I was very attached to walking, and intent in not being in a wheelchair, and eventually, a bed ridden vegetable - notwithstanding my love for the Botanical realms ;) ...
So with trembling legs, I kept walking on my quest.
And I learnt a lot... About human nature and life.

But my longed for Healing kept being delayed. Nobody handed it to me on a silver platter!
For some reason, my soul had chosen this perilous, arduous journey, where in spite of stopping to smell the roses, I had to find by myself, the way out of that labyrinth.
After a fair amount of traveling, seeking my elusive miracle, I was back to square one (California), with my tail between my legs. I had spent the little money I had in multiple treatments, which were not only complicated, painful, or long, but seemingly, also useless.

It was a forceful return, as I was to be part of an art show.
Even though I kept the illness at an almost “invisible” level (having learnt from that friend, perhaps?), truth is I was very weak, and afraid of not being able to manufacture the artworks I had promised, which in my state, were profoundly daunting.

I had arrived from South America, to a small town in Southern California, my uncertain steps guided by a vision I had received during meditation, where the name of the place appeared as a blinking, luminous sign...
There, I rented a small cottage, in a large, somewhat strange and neglected property. A place that came with some difficulties, and even perils. It was on a street called Santa Fe, “Holy Faith”, which was precisely what had sustained me until then...
I had two long stays in that property, where I lived some unforgettable experiences.

During the first period, in spite of being in the midsts of a hellish time at the physical level, I experienced a deep, spontaneous opening of the Heart.
It is very difficult to explain mystical experiences, because they are of a non cognitive nature.
I can only say that all of me was suffused by what I'll call “an empirical apprehension” of Divine Love... (the All pervading essence that some call God?).

The experience was so deep, of such intensity, that, added to my physical weakness, I had to spend my days sitting on a strawbale, under a lovely, albeit confused loquat tree, part in bloom, part in fruit... Many times dissolving into tears, the unbearable intensity of this Love, too much for my human heart (and body).

In spite of the difficulties and physical pains I was living, I was surrounded by a sphere of Grace...
It was a quiet, solitary existence, even though I was deeply connected to the life and natural rhythms of the place. My landlord would come at times, to sit and meditate under the loquat, and somehow partake in that mysterious state of consciousness that was being emanated, and that would remain at that level of intensity for a few months, before fading deliberately, returning in exchange, some of my practical, worldly functions.

It was during my second stay there, after my travels seeking healing, that my longed-for miracle of a physical cure came true... When back in that place, where I had established a deep connection to land, trees, and creatures.
It happened slowly, in a process of almost a year, where I had the very magical help of the Botanical Kingdom, in a way that could be seen as a shamanic initiation.

Shortly after arriving there, I realized that every time I went out to the garden, there was a plant, an unknown succulent, that “called me”… silently, but insistently. Not acquainted with her, I did not dare to use it as medicine.
This “calling” happened later with a few other plants, some wild, in what was a particularly exuberant spring, due to the abundant, rare rains of that winter, in a normally semi-desert area. Some of the weeds in the place were taller than me!

That first plant that spoke to me was from the Aloe family, of which I only knew Aloe Vera.
Again, I wasn't familiar with her, so beyond eventually nibbling on a tiny piece, and then sitting next to her, to see if I was poisoned, I didn't used her medicinally right away...
But soon it bloomed, so I was able to search for it on the internet, and recognize it among more than 400 plants, which are part of that species. I confirmed not only that she wasn't poisonous, but also that there was some precedent in medicinal use as well.

In my research, I found a recipe from a Brazilian priest, who had used it with great success in different countries, to heal serious, and even "incurable" illnesses. The recipe had only 3 ingredients, but they had to be of the best quality: the plant, at least 5 years old, good grappa (Italian brandy), and real honey.

Among many other synchronicities, when I left Chile, and without knowing why, I had bought 2 bottles of excellent Pisco, even though I have never liked it!... For weeks, every time I opened my pantry I wondered what they were doing there.
Well, that was my Grappa! And my neighbor had bees! :)
I soon established a careful treatment, that included that magic potion at the center, and which I maintained for about 11 months.

My healing unfolded gradually, and in a very symbolic way, reflecting the progress of the art project I was working on, which encompassed the titanic work of 2 life-size human figures in mosaics. In lack of a workshop, I worked in a tent in the garden, near my beloved trees and plants.  
Very slowly, one little piece after the other, my works coalesced, while a mysterious alchemy was taking place within my body...
My works, a poetic representation of Mother Earth, based on work by scientist on climate change, are now part of the Public Art Collection, at Scripps Institution of Oceanography, in La Jolla, California.

One day, I was taking a break from all the mosaic work, sitting in the sun in my little garden.
The neighbor's cat, happy to see me outside, came running, very excited, and jumped on my legs, accidentally scratching me.
As I rubbed my thighs, I realized at that very moment that my left leg had returned to its normal size, and was the same thickness as the right.... See, for some years, the left side of my body had weakened more pronouncedly, losing muscle mass.

I realized what this meant... and I cried.
I cried my eyes out, with Mia, the cat, purring happily on my lap...

This is a short summary of a long story, perhaps a book you will read in the future. :)
I share it, because this path of healing has been the most significant part of all my studies, for me to be here today, offering you a hand.

I learned that we all walk a unique path, navigated by our Soul, and that healing approaches cannot ignore that, nor be linear, or generic. For this reason, I will never claim to have all your answers, nor exclude other beliefs or practices you may have.

My intention is to offer you inspiration, hope and courage, and through the tools I have accumulated, support you in your Will to Heal, through rediscovering the Innate Intelligence of your own Being, so that you recover, or maintain, your health and balance.

With much love and blessings on your path,
Luna