Don’t Tell Me I Can’t
The diagnosis of multiple sclerosis was bestowed on me a few years ago. I felt horrified, confused, and desperate. I also felt alone. This was my problem, not a commonly experienced natural disaster. And everyone knows: “There is no cure for MS.” For weeks, I was frantic.
But I don’t like being told, “You can’t heal.” I looked deep inside and promised myself I would walk well again. I didn’t know how that would happen, but I trusted I would be guided. I committed more deeply to my spiritual path than I ever had. Healing from a nonphysical source offered my only hope.
I wrote in my journal. When I sat down, I didn’t know what I would write, but words spilled from my pen. I didn’t recognize them as my own thoughts; they were simply words and thoughts moving through me. I respected the evolving activity of my inner world by assuming the stance of detached observer. After thirty minutes observing and recording, I rose, feeling cleansed and clearer.