Strength of a viking

A realization of what I must become

I’ve been thinking about Tonics. It’s an herbalism term. Something that slowly strengthens a system, over long and regular use. It’s not a bandaid, an aspirin, an antibiotic - it doesn’t work fast.

It doesn’t fix. 

---------------------

Let's break healing into three parts. This could be physical healing. You’ve been stabbed by a sword in the chest. emotional healing. You’ve been stabbed by life in your heart and curled in on yourself until you're half the size you were before - a dim shadow of a person, going through the motions in despair. This could be mental healing, mind snapped from reality. 

The first step is to stop the bleeding, set the bones, reduce the pain. Let's call this first aid. It is the friend who pulls you close and whispers small comforts into your ear. It is the towel wrapped around someone in shock. It’s the physical constraints to keep you from hurting yourself. It is necessary.

Then comes the hard work of actual healing. First aid is often dangerous because it makes the injury easier to bear. Why avoid walking on a sprained ankle if the pain is gone? Why knit over skin and bone if a bandage makes a second skin? The body can form a new balance around its external aid - a dangerous balance. The painkiller must eventually stop. The bandage must be ripped off. 

Healing is the process of moving from this field surgeon temporary cure, to an internal balance without external aid. It’s difficult because any aid can be taken as a crutch. The therapist becomes a necessary part of the balance rather than a way out. Here, however there is a chance for true balance. The body is naturally inclined to heal - encourage that process, reward it for every step away from trauma, and a wound can be overcome. 

And what is this third step? Perhaps it is not third - but rather zero, baseline, before we are wounded at all. It is a Tonic, the strengthening of a body, so that when inevitably wounds come - you are ready.

An acupuncturist once told me that in ancient China, the doctor would be paid as long as their subject remained healthy - and would not be paid so long as they were sick. Perhaps this might lead to the stingy being hypochondriacs  - but what an idea, that the job of a doctor isn’t just to fix you when things go wrong, but to fix the subtle balance of your body before it comes out of alignment. To strengthen in preparation for weakness.

What if the point is not to prevent disease, but to promote health?

---------------------

A beautiful young woman  has come over for tea. We sit at my dining room table and sip - I on my herbal, her on her black. We slowly move into relationships, words ambling into intriguing thoughts.

“J wasn’t what I needed to get past my wounds. J loves wounds. They’re his favorite part of a person. He’s fascinated by them - and so he builds this wonderful, warm, nurturing environment, in which being wounded is okay. Where I don’t have to change.

“But with O - he just wasn’t interested. He listened when I talked, he definitely listened - but it was when I mentioned some piece of progress that he would chime in with a question, perk up, act interested. - And it was through his profound lack of interest that I was able to move on. I probably needed that warm environment - but I couldn’t stay there.”

I used to define myself as a healer. I had a beautiful childhood, a blessed life - shouldn’t I give it all away? Shouldn’t I be open? Endlessly caring? Shouldn’t I be carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders?

Then I began to attract the wounded. I bathed them, and dressed them, held them, and listened to them. I’d like to think that here or there I helped a little. And in the end it was too much work. It burnt me out. One very healthy person, cannot carry two all the time. By trying to take the splinter out of the lion’s paw - I found myself with my own wounds. In my haste to help I had forgotten to care for myself. 

So that I find myself, still with a deep need to help, but unknowing of the how. Without being harmed, without having more taken than I can give, how?

And so I am playing with tonics. What if I can do more pre-wound, with less energy and effort - with sane, mature, people who act like adults, then I could ever do post wound? What if there are lots of healers - lots of people willing to devote their lives to healing - what if that’s not my role?

What if my role is to make sure the disease doesn’t take because your immune system is too strong. What if the abuse doesn’t do as much damage because your self esteem is built up, brick by solid brick? What if the healing happens faster by itself because I’ve fed you healthy soup that’s built up your bones before the fall? 

Don’t bother coming if you want me to fix you. I’m done editing people. The wounded are welcome, but I am not a healer.

Come to me if you need tonics, I’ll feed you Nettle soup for your blood, and Tulsi for your mind. I’ll be your Rhodiola, and in my own time, and my own place - I'll give you the strength of a Viking.