Working for the Great Healer

Written by Elsabe Smit

Nope, the circus is not over yet, but the end is in sight.

Have you been injected? A month or two ago I would have wanted to know, but now my question is: does it matter?

This issue has been a tumultuous inner journey that I lived through while watching myself and my response with fascination.

Firstly there was the question of whether I would take the prick. My intuitive decision was no, I have a God-given immune system and I will nourish and cherish it. Does this mean I was and have been all mouth about the illness? On the contrary.

When the circus started, I was working on a contract in Cape Town, and flying up to my home in Pretoria every few weeks. Right before the lockdown started, I took a late-night flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg. By the time I got home, my eyes were itching. The next morning I felt like I had pink eyes with all the scratchiness but none of the pink.

During the course of the weekend, I started showing other symptoms such as blocked sinuses, a scratchy throat, fever and muscle aches. I was back in Cape Town late on Sunday evening and feeling like a train wreck. Nevertheless, I went to work on Monday and managed to get through half of the day.

I went home and spent the next four days in bed, feeling worse than ever in my life. Fortunately, my hostess was a medical practitioner, and she gave me antibiotics on the third day. By the end of the week I was back on my feet and grateful for my good health.

Then the lockdown and the fearmongering started. Intuitively the situation made no sense to me.

A few months later, my medical friends put two and two together, and we realised what had been wrong with me. So no, I am not preaching from my ivory tower. I got the germ, fought it and came out stronger.

Then the talk about the poisonous prick took off. I looked at the statistics, and none of the justifications made sense to me. As the facts came out, I disseminated these facts to everyone who wanted to listen – and to many people who avoided me because they disagreed with my fervour. I lost family and friends – not just because they turned their backs on my preaching, but because they experienced their loved ones leaving this earth.

I finally realised that if a person wanted the injection, nothing I would say or do would stop them, and I made peace with that.

When the health consequences of the injections started coming to light and it was all doom and gloom, I intuitively felt that a God of Love would not leave His children completely exposed to the injuries. I knew in my bones that there would be people working on a solution and even a cure for the injuries, especially where people were coerced or fooled into this damage. I wanted to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

I have been doing spiritual and distance healing for years, but somehow, I felt that a part of the puzzle was missing. I kept searching.

I found the missing piece of the puzzle and discovered how I can be part of the solution.

Then two things happened. The first was that when I did any healing – in person or distance healing – the injection status of my client became irrelevant. My focus is now on helping clients to balance the system in their body that needs balancing so that their bodies can heal themselves. That is all that is important. And it is possible because that is how God made us.

The second thing was that I could distinctly feel how my relationship with my clients as well as my healing abilities moved to a higher level. This is one of those things that are not easy to put into words, but I now know in my heart of hearts that the healing energy I have been using for years has intensified to a point that leaves me in awe.

I am incredibly grateful that I have been on this journey, and I am looking forward to every day when I can help a person to activate their own innate healing ability.

Should we talk?

Namaste

Damaged…

Poem by Ada Den Hollander

At the light of the bright full moon

the little girl is reading her book

on her lap in her bedroom upstairs.

She sits on her chair, she has covered her ears

blocking out her father’s drunken shouts

her mother’s screams

the breaking of glass

in the living room downstairs.

The words in her book are simple, the sentences short,

the pictures from another world, her world.

She nods off, the book falls from her lap

which wakes her up and with

her hands no longer covering her ears

she listens to the eery silence from

the room downstairs.

Shivering now, with tears in her eyes and fearful

she climbs into her bed and before she falls asleep

she looks up at the light of the bright full moon

hoping it was just a bad dream.

The Consequence Ignoring Your Gut Instinct/Intuition

Written by Karin Kelly Lawrenz

When chatting to clients about intuition, gut instinct or whatever else you want to call that feeling you get of a deep knowing without being able to explain it (especially when doing Core Values)—is that too many people ignore those feelings because they frequently don’t seem logical or rational.

In fact, quite the opposite, they often seem dim, dumb or just plain bizarre.

The result when we dismiss the feeling because we don’t understand it, we frequently regret doing so at a later date. I personally have been subject to that.

The Consequence of Ignoring Your Gut Instinct

A close friend of mine went through with marriage even though her gut told her not to, even as she walked up the aisle. It didn’t end well.

I went away with a male friend for a week years ago. We got on like a house on fire, good company, stunning venue, separate rooms. My instinct/gut was screaming at the top of my voice, “NO NO NO NO Karin, don’t listen to him—don’t do it”. I mean …. what can happen. The end result was an absolute disaster on returning back home and that is putting it mildly. I can go as far as saying that even while there amongst the tranquillity of the mountain, trees and sea in the distance, I felt uneasy all the time. But no …. I Ignored my gut instinct.

I had a friend whose fiancé was killed in a car accident. She was the one who felt uneasy from the get-go about him using the car to travel upcountry and tried to stop him. Many years later she still hasn’t fully let go.

The common theme with all of the above examples is that the gut feeling didn’t really make much sense at a conscious level and thus they were relatively easy to dismiss.

My friend marrying was the right thing to do and expected, I was being taken away on a much-needed getaway complimentary from my friend—I thought to myself “what not—stop being a kloester koek—just do it—stop second-guessing yourself”.

My friend had no control over what she was feeling and tried to relate it to her fiancé, in turn being miles away overseas.

What could possibly go wrong?

It’s Tricky Analysing a Gut Feeling Consciously.

Your gut instincts come from the very old and highly evolved unconscious part of your brain.

Whereas analysis is done at the conscious level (the neo-cortex) which is a few hundred thousand years behind evolutionary speaking and nothing like as efficient at dealing with information.

The best analogy I have ever heard (which I think came from the awesome book, Your Brain at Work) in illustrating the disparity of power, is to think of your conscious mind as being the change in your pocket and your unconscious mind as the US economy.

Have you ever had a feeling that you just know somebody is behind you even though you haven’t heard or seen anything?

Then when you turn round there is indeed somebody sneaking up on you with a large axe?

Ok, hopefully not a large axe, but maybe a friend planning to make you jump?

How did you know?

You will actually find it almost impossible to answer that question because the truth is you don’t know how you knew, you just did.

When anybody comes into close proximity to you there is a slight increase in temperature from their body heat and also the movement of air as they move.

The changes are tiny and imperceptible at a conscious level because your conscious struggles to deal adequately with more than about 4 pieces of information at any one time.

The Limitations of Your Conscious Mind

But your unconscious mind can deal with thousands of things at once and your amygdala, which is the part of your brain on alert for possible threats, has noticed the changes and sends you a warning signal.

Now imagine there really is a mad axeman behind you.

Are you better trying to work out what is giving you a sense of unease, or are you better acting on the uneasy feeling and getting out of the way?

Sitting there thinking, “I have no idea why I’m feeling like this and therefore I may as well ignore the message” is likely to end up with you minus a head.

I know that is a rather absurd and over the top example, but it clearly demonstrates why trying to analyse such situations is rarely helpful.

Gut instinct quote: “Your Unconscious Is Much Smarter Than You Think”

At a conscious level, my friend had no idea her husband was going to be jealous, abusive and controlling because he hadn’t overtly demonstrated that side of his character at that point.

I hadn’t noticed that I didn’t trust my male friend because there was nothing tangible to put my finger on. On the surface, he seemed like a nice guy and said all the right things.

And the friend who lost her fiancé in a horrific car accident consciously or had nothing tangible to go on that he shouldn’t take the car and go up country. She even voiced her gut feeling to him.

But in each situation, there were enough subtle clues to have the amygdala screaming at all of us, “WTH!! Did you see that, did you see that??”

Only the amygdala can’t talk or scream at you and it can’t explain to you the myriad of information it has gathered on your behalf to keep you safe.

All it can do is send a feeling that something isn’t quite right and then hopes to hell you won’t ignore it.

I’m not saying that you should never analyse gut feelings because I’m sure there are occasions when that’s useful, even if I’m struggling to think of any at the moment. Please let me know in the comments if you can come up with a great example.

However, I am saying that ignoring your intuition—gut feeling, because you cannot make sense of it analytically, is akin to ignoring the, “Don’t feed the Lions” sign at the zoo because you personally have never seen anybody eaten by a Lion.

What’s your take, do you listen to your intuition or rationalise the mickey out of it?

I’m also curious to know if you have ever ignored a really strong gut feeling and severely regretted it afterwards.

Karin Kelly
Transformation Coach: Author

My Saturday Without 🍸 Alcohol

Written by Olivia Britz

I don’t remember a Saturday certainly that I did not have alcohol. For the most… I may have a glass too much even if I don’t get drunk but this Saturday I was on a journey to stop this habit of drinking and to take back my life without turning to alcohol to fill my time.

What came out of the day for me…for one there was so much peace and awareness of each moment of the day starting out with an hour yoga class. It seems there are more hours in a day without alcohol. Plans were certain and clear. I went to the shops and got things for the house. I went for lunch and had lemonade it was actually way more delicious than a glass of wine which I’d have usually had instead.

There was no way my temper could flare up and no way my mood could change and I felt more content and relaxed than I imagined I would. So I continued this for the day. At the Bottle Store, I got orange juice and soda water and non-alcoholic savanna.

At home, I sat in my room and read my novel. Temperament was calm…not having alcohol wasn’t so bad. I had good conversations and I felt so good about myself and even in moments of sadness, I was able to simply take each moment for what it is and not be morbid in my headspace filled with evil thoughts and insecurities about untruths.

I thought about a lot of things. It was so much easier to be present and kind and compassionate. Was alcohol actually for the most an irritant to me despite what I think?

I Don’t Belong in a Handbag

Written by Deborah Jordaan

Good day to all the beautiful souls in literature land. Today I am going to write on a subject that might seem insulting to some but hopefully, it can give someone something to contemplate about.

Many years ago when animals used to be wild and free humans decided they need to domesticate animals like dogs, cats or any animal for that fact. The dog comes from the wolf, a gorgeous animal. They are wild and they make a difference to the environment. In Yellowstone Park, they introduced a wolf pack and it made an amazing difference.

The animals all started to migrate and run from the wolf which made a change in rivers because the animals then had to run, fish could continue to spawn and bring more fish into the ecosystem. With the animals not moving they were eating all the fish thereby not giving the fish time to spawn. The buffalo and caribou migrated which caused the vegetation to grow with them moving around. The other animals also started migrating and soon the ecosystem was becoming what it should be.

Then the human came and decided they want a dog or any small animal and they put it in a handbag. BANG – problem.

That poor pet or animal doesn`t know what IS HAPPENING. Now the mere sight of a mouse or insect terrifies them, there are no such things in a handbag. Imagine putting a wolf in a bag. You, humans, are mollycoddling these dogs which come from the wolf and wild dog. You are taking away their ability to be an amazing animals by clothing them and putting them in your tote bag.

Cats must hunt but once again the human takes a room in their house and makes a room just for the kitty that according to them is suffering outside. Cats will find a spot to snuggle. Cats come from tigers, panthers and all the big cats of the wild. The lion isn`t going to come up to you and want to climb into your handbag unless you had him as a baby and never let him back to his kind.

Yes, there are animal sanctuaries but they allow the animals to be wild but also protected. There is nothing wrong with protecting an animal, just give them space to be what their species was born to do.

Exotic animals don`t belong in a basement but once again the nurturing human puts them there. Eventually, animal protection services get called in and the animal has to be rescued because some stupid human thought they could take care of the animal because their money can buy anything. Rather put your money to good use and donate to conservation.

How about if aliens did exist? Maybe they would keep us as pets and see what stupidity we get up to. I love animals but I would rather see them being who they are supposed to be and not in a cage or handbag.

There are conservationists that understand animals and how to save them. They are brilliant but not the person who goes out and buys a Gucci handbag just so they can put their Chihuahua dog in there that cost the price of a car because it was bred for a bag.

If you want a handbag dog or cat go to TOYS R US there are many fur babies there. I love unicorns, but I`m not going to go stick a horn on a goat or horse and keep it in my lounge.

My apologies if I sounded insulting to anyone, it wasn`t my intention. If you watch animal hoarders on television you might agree with me that some humans are in fairyland and by saving them hundreds of animals in their home they are harming themselves and the poor animal.

So next time before you grab your bag and your pooch think how you would feel if the alien stuck you in a suitcase.

A Tincture for the Soul

Written by Vanessa Anderson

There are times when we all feel like we want the world to stop for a moment, just so we can breathe again, think again, feel again – without watching the clock, without sacrifice, without trade-offs. For whatever purpose this feeling imposes – listen.

It is but a symptom for something far greater and as much as medication treats a symptom, wishing the world would stop for just one moment is but a plaster covering a deeper wound. Yes, the world it seems is spiralling, for some, it is a deeper, darker more dangerous world – but they are yet unaware of its powers, for others, it is a lifting of a veil, equally deep, just as dark, but one where there is light, love and a world I cannot even begin to describe.

You will know it only by the feeling, because all the words you know, could not yet possibly describe that place we have forgotten, home.

So, we are told to hold on.

Hold on, it is in the words, hold – but to what do we hold on, too?

I went to be last night, perchance to sleep, but a dreadful migraine had me trying to hold my body still for the throbbing behind my eyes. I remembered a pressure point below my eyebrows and fell asleep head in hand, a reprieve for a moment until in rest my hands fell and my body moved. It was a fitful sleep.

When I woke, I remembered to hold the pressure point between my thumb and forefinger. It was an odd recollection, for at the time I mused how little we touch our own hands, in comfort. How little we touch our self in love, yet this is how we hold on. This is how we hold the world back for a moment. This is how we escape the vortex that will have us seeking reprieve.

We hold on.

We remember that we actually hold our thoughts in our hands.

When last did you hold your own hand in comfort, whispering, I am here for you.

When last did you touch your face and speak of your beauty and your grace?

When last did you grasp your feet in your hands and hold yourself together – giving and receiving in an infinite loop.

When last did you rest your hands upon your head and feel the wisdom beneath your fingers?

When last did you lay your hands upon your chest and feel the rise and fall of your breathe?

When last did you speak to your soul as if it was the most beautiful being in existence?

You are a being of light; a healer in your own right. I read something this week, it said, ‘I don’t have any magic to give you. I am here to lead you back to a place where you can remember your own”. I wish I had written that myself, but I couldn’t claim the credit. It did remind me though, that I am most capable.

I am here to remind you.

As I write this, I am sitting under a tree, beneath the chattering of birds, white splashes of colour against a blue sky. I sit beside the bees working their magic among the flower blooms in my garden, my lanky ginger familiar (Oliver Bean, Olliepollie, the Oluspolus –he of many names) washing himself on my right – my shadow gauge who has held vigil during my blue phase. As I sit here crafting this message I am reminded that I must practice what I preach.

I will make time to dry my hair in the sunshine, absorb the warmth and splendour of the day. I will make time to feel heat of the day and the promise of growth beneath my toes. I will sit still, feet in hand honouring the sacred circle, honouring my power.

When ‘I’ is done, when you are ready, pull up a pillow, let’s hold hands, we will wait for others and in the meantime, we will hold on!

A Moment of Inspiration …

Written by Kim Hewitt

Trusting your gut or intuition sounds like the right thing to do, then why is it we don’t listen sometimes?

There may be times when we don’t trust ourselves or times, we give the person or situation the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes we are connected to the situation for a reason, to find the gift, the blessing or lesson in the situation and change or shift accordingly.

As energies intensify over this period of time you may need to find clarity in situations. Sometimes clarity does not ask for actual change or action, but just a shift in perspective.

Trust your feelings, this is your navigations system.

It’s a time for purging, releasing and understanding. Clear space, declutter, open the doorways of your heart space. Allow green clear energy to flow, through you and from you to others and to your situations.

Set those intentions before you leave your home or before you enter a situation. Let loving green and white energy flow from your heart space and go before you.

When making decisions, notice again how it makes you feel. Travel more lightly through this 2022. You can do it by thinking beyond your comfort zone, knowing that you came here to co-create and see your own manifestations.

Be brave, be bold, put on your armour of courage but most of all be who you are.

Add your uniqueness to the world.

Your Higher Self is always calling, asking you to step graceful into you full role and into you power.

It’s asking you gently, to be true to you, to find what makes you joyful and to live life as an adventure.

Will you answer the call?

Time is what you have been given, it is an asset, it is your gift.

There are times when we wish it away hoping a situation will pass by quickly. There are times when we wish it would never pass.

Think about your time and how you are using it to your best advantage.

Looking back over time, always reminds us to stay as present as we can, to really do take so much notice of all the good times and bring each of your moments to life. As you concentrate on the good times, you offer this desire to the universe and if you politely step out of your own way, the universe will deliver.

All things in the manifested reality, first come from imagination, thought, attention, intention and so on. Make time for that step to be clear and precise.

Make it a daily practice to be present with yourself. Be kind to yourself, offer yourself words of kindness and speak gently and lovingly to yourself and about yourself to others. From this ‘better feeling place’ you can act with more understanding and clarity. You are able to offer value and feel valued.

How are you spending your gift of time?

Take time. Notice how you feel. Trust your gut, your intuition. Be kind to yourself. Learn to be your own best friend. Act with grace. One step at a time.

You are always loved.

Be blessed

Kim Hewitt

Be Grateful

Written by Deborah Jordaan

Morning to all the wonderful readers. Hope you are all well. This morning, sitting in the PPT, public patient transport with my patient on our way to Johannesburg oncology department I felt terribly ill. I have come to the realisation that I am burning out. I heard about that condition when I was studying to become a career.

I work for the old age home and take care of my paraplegic partner at home. My patient that is with me today is an oncology patient. When I sit here I am abundantly grateful that I am somewhat healthy and can still take care of myself.

I look at all these patients and think how brave they are for fighting cancer every day, men and women alike. They look healthy but they aren`t. Their bodies are either being diagnosed, already assessed or they are here for a check up to make sure they are still in remission.

As I said in the beginning I might be ill today but I can recognise my problem but an oncology patient lives in the hope that their condition doesn`t worsen and spread to other parts of their bodies not knowing what will be next.

Cancer doesn`t choose race or age, it just happens. I will give all my time to assist my patient as she is not aware of her condition as it is not curable, it just gets worse. She smiles and lives her life where other people are constantly complaining about trivial nonsensical things.

Their hair needs to be done, nails need a manicure and who knows what other nonsensical things the human can complain about. Yet the cancer patient is grateful not to feel sick or be in treatment every other day. They lose a limb or breast but they are happy to be alive. They overcome their health issues because they have the motivation to be alive.

I have had family members pass on from cancer and it wasn`t pleasant to see them suffer days before dying.

A hospice is an amazing place. Yes people go there to die but they give you and your family peace of mind that it`s okay to die. The older you get it gets more difficult to keep having treatment for cancer as other factors start manifesting.

My uncle is over seventy years old and has decided he no longer wants to go for treatment. He says if it`s his time to pass he will not fight it. We as his family might think he is selfish or that he has lost motivation but we have no idea of his degree of pain or illness.

Us as family of the cancer patient must respect them and just be there when they need us. Be grateful that they are still alive and we can spend time with them because when they have passed we will have regret if we didn`t care enough or do enough.

In my parting words, just be grateful for whatever comes your way. The universe knows what they are doing. Yes a challenge isn’t what we want but its what we need to make us appreciate the small things in life.

The Wellington Boots

Children’s Story written by Grazia Martienssen

Hello, children Big Bear here gather round as I tell you about…

Growing Fast:

Ben and Cindy were growing up fast and had a lot of clothes and shoes, which were too small for them. One day mom decided to go through their wardrobes with them before buying new clothes and shoes. The children were very excited about this. As they went through the clothes, they decided who to donate them to.

What do you do with clothes or shoes that are too small for you?
Do you have someone to pass them on to?

Deciding Who to Give Them to:

‘Let’s give my pretty party dress to my cousin Wendy, because she really likes it, and these shoes can go to my friend Lizzie, I think they will fit her,’ said Cindy excitedly.
‘My warm jacket let’s donate that to poor children mommy.’ Ben was also deciding who to give his clothes and shoes to.
‘My cowboy suit, I think my cousin Peter should have that, and my school shoes are too small, let’s give them to my friend David as he’s going to start school next year,’ said Ben excitedly.
‘This tracksuit can be donated to poor children,’ said Ben.
The clothes and shoes that were worn out went into a pile for recycling.
‘I will tear the worst ones up for rags and donate the others for recycling,’ said mom.
So together they made four piles of clothes and shoes. One was for their cousins, one for their friends, one for the poor children, and one for the recycling bin. Finally, mom took out their wellington boots. Both children loved their boots. They were a gift from their granny, and they always had so much fun when they wore them. Splashing around in the rain puddles outside, on their way to school, and even on their way back, or to a friend’s house.
‘I really want to keep those,’ said Ben. ‘Me too,’ said Cindy.

Did you know that old things can be recycled?
Does your family take things to the recycling bins?

Mom thought for a while. She didn’t want to upset the children by getting rid of their boots. But they were too small and worn out.
‘I know!’ she said after a while. ‘They can be made into birdhouses, that way they’ll be in the garden, and you’ll see them every day, and the birds can also enjoy them,’ said mom.
‘But how?’ Ben asked.
‘Can birds live in our boots?’ asked Cindy.
‘I will show you,’ said mom.
She then cut a big hole in the front of each boot and asked dad to make a little wooden roof for each one. When he glued the roofs on them, he let them dry till the next day and then put them outside. Two hanging from tree branches and two with hooks hanging from the wall.

Do you and your family recycle old things at home?
What can you make out of old things?

Feeding the Birds:

The children loved the birdhouses and were very happy that their old boots had been recycled in this way. Every day they put bird seeds or bread crumbs in the birdhouses. One day they saw that two little birds had made their nests in the two birdhouses hanging from the tree branches. They were so excited and couldn’t wait for the eggs to hatch.

Do you like birds?
Do birds come to your garden?

A Message for Me

Written by Neshni Naidoo

The perfect wife, doting mother, supportive friend, gracious hostess, always smiling – that is how most people described Jodie. Very few knew that her beautiful smile hid a painful secret. She was dying. Not of a physical illness, but a dis-ease of the mind that was slowly robbing her of joy and purpose.

The shrill tone of the alarm pierced through her dream. Jodie reached over and hit ‘Snooze’. “Five more minutes,” she thought to herself. The alarm jarred her sleep again. “Why don’t you turn that damn thing off if you are not going to wake up when it rings!!” barked her husband, Reese. Cursing silently, she rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, she wondered, “Where have the last 20 years gone? Where was the zeal, energy and passion I had at university?” She splashed cold water onto her face as if to wash away the unwelcome thoughts. As she dressed, each piece of clothing, each layer of make-up served as her armour, preparing her for the day’s battles. The finishing touch was the lipsticked smile. Jodie looked at her reflection, pleased by what she saw, and said to no-one in particular, “Let this be a good day.”

Her two children, 10-year old Sarah and 13-year old Joshua were extra slow that morning, having only got to bed at 10 after completing their schoolwork. It still added to her frustration though and she scolded, “If we don’t leave in the next five minutes, you are going to be late for school. Then you can explain to Mr Steyn why you are late!” They sped up whatever they were doing silently, knowing that it was best not to argue with mom when she was in “one of her moods.” By the time, they arrived at school, Jodie had calmed down a little and feeling guilty, she gave them each a quick hug, saying, “I’m sorry. You know I love you, right?”

The conversation at the school gate revolved around the same issues – too much homework, lack of motivation, too much screen time, and their hectic lives and what to cook for supper. Even though it was reassuring to know that other moms shared the same problems, Jodie’s insecurity still raised its ugly head. “What am I doing wrong? Why are my kids just average and not excelling at anything? Have I done enough to encourage their talents or is it too little? Leaving work to be at home with them hasn’t seemed to make any difference.” Once again, there was no stopping that nagging voice once it started.

En-route to her car, Jodie suddenly stumbled, feeling faint, then felt herself falling as everything went black. When she came to, her friend Laura was at her side, a concerned expression on her face. “Hey, you scared us when you toppled over like that. How are you feeling?”

“Weak…… a little confused…….. Don’t know what happened, “she said, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.“

“Don’t try and get up, “said Laura, “We’ve called for an ambulance and Reese is on his way.”

The paramedics checked her vitals when they arrived. Her blood pressure was 80/60 which is why she had fainted. She had a split lip from knocking it against the gate as she fell. However, she would have to be taken to the hospital for observation and x-rays to determine if there were any other injuries. Reese arrived just as they were placing her in the ambulance.

“The kids……” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” Reese assured her.

Thankfully, there were no other injuries but Jodie would have to remain in the hospital for a few days for an MRI and other tests. Initially, she was concerned about the children and how they were coping without her, but relaxed when she saw that her mum and Reese had everything under control. Not used to doing nothing, she used the time between tests, the prodding and pricking, to catch up on her reading, complete a knitting project and plan for the following week.

One morning, she picked up her diary and pen with the intention of compiling her “To-Do” list. She went no further than the date. Her hand began moving across the page as if it was being controlled by another force. A picture began to take shape. Minutes passed, as she drew, unaware of her surroundings. When she finally put down her pen, she felt spent, as if she had finished an intense workout.

Putting her pen aside, she focussed on the drawing. It was a little girl, curled up on the floor, crying. She was alone, surrounded by a protective shield. Around the shield were arrows being hurled at her and bouncing off the shield.

“THIS IS ME,” she thought. As the tears welled up, Jodie went to hide in the bathroom, trying to stifle and mute the sobs that racked through her body. Returning to her bed, she began to write. Every sentence helped her understand. With each sentence, she could feel a part of her protective shield breaking away.

After all the tests, the diagnosis was that she was stressed. The doctor gave her recommendations and suggested a psychologist help her manage her stress levels. Jodie smiled inwardly because she’d understood the message delivered with this incident and received the guidance she needed to start the healing process.