The Wounded Healer

For anyone who has read my blog, I have a distinct distrust of the medical profession. The pharmaceutical industry is a multi-billion dollar business. Drugs are sold not to heal nor dissolve our wounds but to maintain them, to distract us from the purpose of going deeper. Just as we have our distractions, we have our quick fixes to fit our untidy schedules and weary expectations of life.

I am also equally skeptical of those in the homeopathic, naturopathic and counseling arts. For some of the great therapists I've met on my path, whether I call it a healing journey or not, I've met several people whom I have called 'charlatans'. Some had a certain devious streak in them while others possessed an apathy, a sometimes god-complex. 

Recently I met one of these individuals. Years ago, I would have felt angry for days but in this instance, I feel more compassion. 

I met "Lynn" (not her real name for obvious reasons) through my aunt. My aunt is very well connected in the region and she arranged for me to see Lynn free of charge. Lynn specializes in healing irritable bowel and other psychosomatic ailments. 

Before I continue further, I should state that psychosomatic doesn't simply state that the 'disorder, disease is in your head' (i.e. you are purposely making yourself ill) but rather a result of embedded and misdirected emotion, whether it be trauma or suppressed rage. I am a firm believe our emotions are the most misunderstood aspects of our lives. Whereas we have gyms to exercise our muscles, universities to prove our intellectual prowess, libraries to learn, there is no centre or forum in which we can truly maintain a healthy emotional equilibrium. We are not a preventative culture. We have support groups for those with chronic illnesses, for the suffering but not for the on-going turmoil of simply expressing and releasing our pain. 

What attracted me and also equally caused me some concern about Lynn was her devotion. I'm not wealthy at all. I have no job at the moment. That I could have free sessions to heal my ongoing bowel problems seemed rather promising, almost too ideal. Reading over her website and the information she sent me, I knew I was committed to helping myself and do away with the bad habits and get on with the good. 

Lynn said she wanted 150%. I questioned this. What exactly is 150%? When you are devoted to a cause, is being devoted a hundred percent reasonable or not? If you are on-board, without question and willing to spend your time working towards a goal, is 150% a form of overkill? Obsession? 

I felt very worried about this. True, I wanted the free sessions but what did this 150% entail. For Lynn, it meant keeping in check via email. Okay, I thought, that doesn't seem such a bad idea. But what about boundaries? What if something comes up in the process and I need to process it? Can I discontinues the email check-ups and go within?

I brought my concerns to the first session. I basically said I had some bad experiences in the past and didn't want to repeat them. Consulting my notebook, which I had brought along, I went over my idea that some of the most successful breakthroughs were a result of a balanced, client-counselor relationship. That is, instead of being 'worked on', I would work with someone. 

Thinking back, I don't necessarily recall any direct promises. I got the impression she was on board with my ideas.

From there, we talked a lot about my previous experience with doctors and other healers. I said I responded very well to hypnosis and that for the most part, it was a balance between shifts in attitude and past-life regression therapy. (I do believe in the existence in past lives but I'm also willing to allow that our stories of pre-existence, who we were in another time could very well be stories we create to unravel disparate aspects of our being. Narrative is a strong element in our lives and just as much as we learn about ourselves by reading a fascinating book - "The reader is while reading the reader of himself" - Marcel Proust - or watching a compelling movie, we heal through stories.)

Lynn put me under hypnosis just to see how well I would do. Before I left, she gave me some more information to read about her healing processes. Enclosed: three cds to play, one meant for relaxation/meditation and the other two for background listening. 

That night I seemed to feel pretty good. There would be structure in my life, a new approach. I would from now on dissolve the old habits and work towards good and healthy ones. 

That day, I got my first email from Lynn, asking me if there were any shifts. I had nothing to report. 

She quickly emailed me back and asked if I was doing the meditation work. I realized in my previous email that I had forgotten to mention that. I said I was following the meditation guidelines she enclosed. 

Right away, I felt a little uneasy, as if someone was hovering behind me. 

The next two days I received emails. There was something in our dialogue that came up which I felt out of place and should have been addressed in our one-to-one session. I couldn't tell from her words whether she was angry or disappointed in something I wrote (a reply, actually to the first sensitive thing she brought up). This caused me some stress and moreover, concern. That night, I began to feel more and more uncomfortable about this daily 'checking in'. I know it was something Lynn depended on but we had also (supposedly) talked about a balanced, respectful relationship. Before going to bed, I sent off a quick email: I needed some time and space to process my thoughts.  Could we talk further on Sunday?

I didn't sleep well that night. Truth be told, I liked the idea of free sessions and someone who understood a lot of my ideas about healing, that our emotions play a large part in our disorders and bodily pains and dysfunctions made me think she had a lot to offer and that I should continue. But shouldn't there be space and respect?

If you're in love with someone or even just someone's good friend, you respect their boundaries, their wishes in times of need. When a friend breaks down in tears, you have to ask yourself, do we comfort them or let them be alone? In the Bible, Job's friends sit in silence with him for three days, allowing him time to grieve, giving him the space to process the pain, the realization he has lost everything.We are not human based on a set of fixed and unyielding approaches to each other but by flexibility, compassion and understanding.

The next morning I received an email from Lynn. I had to shake my head. The email stated that I had 'inspired some writing' in her. I opened the document she attached and read her philosophy about conditioned responses and our resistance to change. Thinking about her session, her philosophies, I already knew she was thinking, namely that by asking for space that I was actually fighting the healing process and hoping to keep my illness.

It wasn't that at all. I immediately knew I didn't want to work with a person who favoured a strict set of rules as opposed to engaging me. I was sensitive to the fact that my aunt had arranged for the sessions but I also knew I had to be honest. I wrote to Lynn about feeling 'watched' that I felt more like a student being kept in line by a distrusting teacher. I even noted that the idea I had inspired her made me think I was being 'worked on' as opposed to being 'worked with'. 

She responded that 'protocol is protocol' and that I had been unfair in my judgment. That was her assessment but I was honest about how I felt. 

I later wrote to my aunt, thanking her for recommending Lynn but I said it wasn't going to work. She  responded by stating that I had to stop thinking the world should manipulate itself for me (obviously her and Lynn talked about me). I was taken aback In no way had I asked the world to contort or be re-shaped in my favour. I had simply asked for some space. I equated this space with respect and continue to do so. Asking for space doesn't mean I don't want to heal or I want the world at my beck and call. It simply means I'm human with a very human request. If I hadn't asked and continued to feel the way I did, what would that have made me?

I have to say, I do find it ironic. Basically my aunt is calling me stubborn, saying I'm unyielding. But  really, I'm not the one who wrote 'protocol is protocol'.