Was It Something I Said?

I often wonder why it took me so long to feel comfortable recognising that I had a disability; I suppose that it is because ‘disability’ is a word that can make people feel uncomfortable, and it is seen to be a tragic affliction. I was also worried that people would see me as a helpless victim who should be pitied or patronised.  

Merely talking about disability can cause people to become flustered; they worry about what words to use and what terms are viewed as acceptable. I don’t claim to speak for everyone who has a disability, others will have their own opinion on the issue, I merely want to start a conversation; I am an expert on my own situation, but nobody else’s. I want to say from the outset that I know that it is difficult to understand a situation that may not impact your life, and that I am not here to judge anyone; we all make mistakes, and I am still learning too…

A disability is a condition that limits your ability to do certain tasks or participate in everyday activities. I choose to use the word ‘disability’ in relation to my condition, but others may not, and I respect their choice. Words are important, and many people prefer to be called ‘a person with a disability’ rather than a ‘disabled person’; this recognises that they are more than their disability, and that they are people first. However, others feel that this is ignoring who they are and downplaying it; disability is not dehumanising or negative, and it is to be celebrated. Each person has the right to choose the language that they are comfortable with.

However, some words and terms are quite simply outdated, hurtful and offensive; for example, saying that someone is ‘not normal’, or asking ‘What’s wrong with you?’. It goes without saying that disability is not a joke or an insult, and that these slurs can cause a lot of pain to people. People with disabilities have a history of being locked away in institutions, of being part of freak shows, and of having to endure people laughing and gawking at them; so please don’t undermine their desire to be respected and treated with dignity! I choose to make light-hearted jokes about my condition with those close to me (I’ll do anything for a dopamine hit 😊), and I have promised many of my students that I’ll give them a ‘backie’ on my mobility scooter if I ever need to get one, but that has been my choice based on the level of familiarity that I have established with those mentioned. I try to use humour to remove awkwardness around my condition and to normalise conversations about Parkinson’s, but it is under my terms.

None of us know when disability may enter our lives; I wasn’t born with a disability, but I acquired one in my early 40s. I have a disability that is both visible and invisible, and many of my symptoms cannot be seen by others. However, I am still a productive member of society, I continue to work, I do need extra support, but I am not a burden or a complainer, and my rights should be equal to everyone else’s. I should not have to worry about issues of accessibility; people without a permit should not be parking in accessible parking spaces because they are just popping into the shop for a minute, or because they couldn’t see anyone who needed it. It might be inconvenient for you to have to walk further, but I would give anything to be able to do that walk. Equally, people should not assume that I don’t need accessible parking just because I am in my 40s, have tried to dress well that day, and have Beyonce on full blast; disability does not have a dress code. I am not looking for sympathy, special treatment, or perks, just awareness.

 I am always happy to answer questions if they are asked respectfully; I am passionate about raising awareness and I have chosen to put myself ‘out there’, but others have the right to privacy if they so choose. I also appreciate people offering to help me, sometimes I need the help and other times I don’t, but I always acknowledge it as an act of kindness. However, I would advise that if someone kindly states that they can manage, then just respect their wishes, and don’t insist on stepping in to rescue or disempower them.  

I want to once again stress that these thoughts are just my perspective on disability, and I too have said and done things that I wouldn’t do again; I do better when I know better.  I am now trying to be more aware of how my words and actions can impact others, but it is an ongoing process, and I am constantly learning. I am unable to cover every issue, and I don’t have all the answers, but my hope is that this blog will encourage others to reflect on what it means to have a disability in an ableist society, to understand the powerful ripple effect of informed conversation, and finally, to call out unacceptable behaviour when it is safe to do so.

Thanks for listening!

What Is Your Body Trying To Tell You?

There is much wisdom to be gained from exploring the symptoms of an illness; I used to curse Parkinson’s for disrupting my life, but I now understand that it was just my body’s way of communicating with me. My unbalanced lifestyle was the offender, not Parkinson’s! I was forced to change the way that I was living, and I am now a very different person compared to when I was first diagnosed.

If I want to heal, I believe that I need to communicate with my symptoms, and until I learn what lies beneath each of them, they will not be going anywhere. If my body is trying to get my attention, I need to reflect on what it wants me to change. There are too many symptoms for me to explore in a short blog, but I have selected just a few to illustrate my point. So, here we go:

Parkinson’s causes in-balance, and my body always reminds me when life is out of balance as my symptoms tend to worsen. I am a control freak, and so was given an illness that made me lose control. I am a perfectionist, and consequently I lost the ability to do things perfectly. Is Parkinson’s protecting rather than attacking me?

I believe that my rigid body is telling me to relax and go with the flow. I am not someone who finds it easy to loosen up, and my tight muscles are a reminder that I have been living in a state of constant tension. My hands clench into a fist when I am stressed, it’s as if I am gripping on for dear life, and so I need to let go of to-do lists and pushing myself beyond my limit. My heavy limbs are clearly asking me to lighten up; and if I start to relax, they may decide to join me. My symptoms are screaming out that it’s time to unwind and let loose!

There are times when I find it very difficult to walk, especially when I have not allowed myself to get enough rest; my dragging leg is letting me know in no uncertain terms that I am still veering off the track to recovery and not moving forward. My feet are unstable because I am, they are not grounded because I am not; and so, I need to take the appropriate steps to get back on my feet. Despite the many changes that I have made, my legs are showing me that I’m still not moving in the right direction to the extent that is needed, and when I don’t slow down, they will step in and make me do so. Hurrying about is what got me here, I was even in a hurry to get Parkinson’s, and so my body has now made it impossible for me to rush at anything. Even my shallow breathing is telling me to stop and catch a breath. My body might just want me to know that I am still stuck in the same old rut that got me here, and I will be able to advance when I stop going back.

I absolutely believe that my brain is begging me to bring more fun and laughter into my life; it has stopped make enough dopamine to meet my body’s needs, this chemical has many functions, including creating feelings of pleasure. I therefore need to start making my own dopamine by doing more things that make me happy. Laughter can increase dopamine concentrations by up to 50 times; it’s clearly time to take life less seriously.

 Old habits are hard to break, but if I stay stuck in my old ways, I will never progress. I believe in addressing the cause as well as the symptoms, and my body did me a favour that I refused to do for myself. I am trying to continuously observe my symptoms and reflect on what my body is asking me to do. I have immense respect for my body’s innate wisdom, and so I must make listening to it a priority.

Is your body also trying to tell you to make changes? What are your own symptoms communicating to you?

Healing is not linear, and it is a lifelong process. Very often I take one step forward and two back (literally), but I keep showing up and doing my part. My symptoms will always flare up when I slip into old habits, and so, I need to question each part of my lifestyle and every choice that I make. It’s time to rebalance and leave behind self-destructive habits. As far as I am concerned, healing is on its way; I trust in my own ability to heal myself. I will not be healed overnight but I am certainly laying the foundation to do so…

Knowing when to Quit

I have always wanted to be a yoga teacher, and up until a year ago I was following this dream; I am passionate about the benefits of yoga and wanted to share this with others in the Parkinson’s community. However, my body had other ideas; last year my health declined quite badly, I was exhausted and overwhelmed, and I decided to leave the teacher training course. Whilst the purpose of yoga is certainly not to reach the perfect posture, I was just unable to move to the level needed to teach others.

I was devastated, I loved the course and I felt like a failure. We are often taught that quitting should never be an option, but Parkinson’s, which is always my greatest guide and teacher, was telling me that I was out of kilter and off course. I had spread myself too thinly; I was stressed and irritable, and I could clearly see that I was failing. I spent years ignoring messages from my body and vowed never again to let the demands of life undermine my health, I knew that giving up was the right thing to do.

Yoga teaches us to prioritise peace of mind, not to punish ourselves for what we can’t do, and most importantly to listen to our bodies when they say ‘no’. My own personal practice of yoga continued to be my sanctuary and it helped me to be at peace with quitting; warrior pose reminded me of the need to defend my health, tree pose highlighted the need for balance, and corpse pose taught me the importance of rest and surrender. I had clearly been missing the point! Although I had failed at achieving this goal, I was given the opportunity to do a lot of soul searching, and realised that this just wasn’t my path.

Sometimes we must persevere, and sometimes we need to quit, but how do we know which decision to make? Well, for me it’s straightforward; my Parkinson’s symptoms will always guide me as they are trying to protect me. You too might find the answer by looking at your own situation and its impact on your health; anything that damages our physical or mental health needs to be re-evaluated.  Quitting is often viewed negatively, but for me it was the wisest thing to do. I feel that we need to develop a healthy relationship with quitting as it might just be the right decision for our health, we can also learn from our mistakes and then do things differently in the future.  

It’s certainly a dent to the ego to be seen as a quitter, but those who continue to ‘do it all’ whilst their lives are in turmoil, are not really winning either. Many of us are afraid of being seen as unreliable and don’t want to let others down, so we just let ourselves down by doing what we ‘ought’ to do! However, when we take care of our own needs, we are better parents, partners, friends, and employees. Why put the brakes on this?

I’m now at the stage where I see failure as a redirection. Perhaps I was chasing something that I thought I wanted? Maybe my time and energy could be more helpful elsewhere? Problems often come along to remind us that something needs to change, and no experience is wasted.

However, I fully accept that it’s not always possible to walk away from every situation that isn’t going well, and maybe the answer is not to quit but to make changes or to try to do more to succeed.

I’m sure that if we look back over our lives, we can see that failure often lead us down a much better path and we managed to survive. Sticking our heads in the sand will not cause problems to go away, and if we’re not part of the solution we are part of the problem. Remember that dreams are not time bound, and you can always try again.  Listen to the whispers and nudges from your body, it always holds the answer, but choose to follow the signs now before you’re forced to do so in the future…

Hope Remains

April is Parkinson’s Awareness month. This year awareness is being raised through poetry. I have posted an audio of my poem and this is the written version…

There was a young woman called Melanie O’B,

Who, at the age of 41, was diagnosed with PD,

Up until then life was ever so busy,

and so, her body screamed, ‘Stop and just listen to me!’.

Those first few weeks were filled with so much fear,

She and her loved ones shared many a tear,

Dreams and plans were completely shattered,

This was a wake-up call to focus on what actually mattered!

Most of the time she will shuffle and stumble,

When tired, her words are often a mumble,

Walking has become an embarrassing slog,

Her uncooperative left leg feels like she’s dragging a log.

Her body feels ever so tired and weak,

She is told that the long-term prognosis is bleak,

Each movement lost is a theft,

The constant anxiety leaves her feeling utterly bereft.

However, she still dreams of the day when she will take a full stride,

Oh, how she’ll be beaming with such pride,

She might even get a good night’s sleep,

No more lying wide-awake counting those pesky wee sheep.

She’ll say goodbye to hiding away,

Her limp will become an elegant sashay,

She might even manage to wash and dry her own hair,

but, best of all, people will no longer feel the need to stop and stare.

She never stops holding onto hope,

refusing to give up and just mope,

Yes, she will continue to slip and fall down,

But, she will always get up and straighten that crown!

She’s learned so many things that she needed to know,

So, she will try to simply trust and let go,

Parkinson’s is no longer her greatest enemy,

After all, it has created a much-improved Melanie O’B.

Melanie O’Brien

Getting Creative

There is an artist inside all of us, and within the Parkinson’s community, the healing power of creativity is well recognised. Motor skills may diminish, but artistic capability often remains and can even improve. Creativity soothes the busiest of minds as it offers respite and allows us to forget ourselves for a little while at least. Many people with Parkinson’s often find that they take up writing, painting, cooking, knitting, crafting, or learning an instrument; just because they hadn’t previously tapped into these gifts doesn’t mean that they weren’t there all along, they were just waiting to be unwrapped.

So, how does creativity heal? Well, most of you are probably aware that the brain is made up of two hemispheres; the left hemisphere oversees the right side of the body, it is logistical and analytical, and the right hemisphere controls creativity, emotions, imagination, and the left side of the body, which, incidentally, is my weak side. I often wonder if my weak left side an outward sign of what needs more attention in my right brain? It seems that I need to encourage my right brain to heal, and I can try to do this by developing right brain functions such as creativity and imagination; and if I can rebalance my brain, I might be able to rebalance my body.

Armed with this information, I decided to give my right brain more tasks to do, and so, I started this blog. Writing was my way of raising awareness of Parkinson’s and doing something positive with the pain. I write to empower myself and others; it helps me to know that I am giving this illness a purpose and contributing what I can in my own little corner of the Universe. Nothing is ever wasted…

I am not saying that creativity will lead to immediate recovery, but I do believe that it is one piece of the healing jigsaw. GPs often encourage patients to attend art and music lessons to help relieve stress-related complaints; such therapeutic activities clearly make us healthier and happier. The act of taking time for yourself to create can help the brain’s faster brainwaves to slow down, and anything that helps my Parkinson’s brain to move out of high alert is more valuable to me than gold.

The great Billy Connolly sadly retired from live performances due to Parkinson’s, but he is now creating amazing paintings and sculptures; his artistic career is soaring. Treasures are clearly waiting to be unleashed in all of us and we all have a story to tell. Could this blog be a sign for you to start exploring your own creativity?

Although, you may find that being creative is not always enjoyable, especially if you decide to share your work with others; you will doubt yourself and worry how your work will be received by your audience. Sharing my journey with strangers opens me up to looking like an attention seeker or a narcissist, but I know why I write, and that is to take back control and nourish my soul, not to play the victim or for attention. Birds don’t sing for the praise; they sing because they have a song inside of them…

We often resist what we need most, and I would encourage you to just start making something; do the thing that lights you up, then the ideas will start to arrive. We are all healing from something, and creativity is just one way to release tension and transform pain, or you can just keep it all bottled up inside. Start a journal, take photographs, redecorate a room, cook something from scratch, learn an instrument, take dance lessons, go to an art class, start gardening, the possibilities are endless! Step out of your comfort zone, follow your bliss, and do what you love. It’s time to get to work; you don’t have to save the world, just do it for you!

Getting Comfortable Being Uncomfortable

There is nothing like a good walk to clear the mind and raise our spirits, yet, walking in front of people is a daily challenge that literally leaves me paralysed and frozen; fear shows up, my heart races, and I feel like I am going to war. I become self-conscious and awkward, I worry that I am being looked at and judged, and with Parkinson’s, where the head goes, the body follows. So, I don’t walk, and I remain stuck in a rut.

How do I become unstuck? Yes, Parkinson’s is an obvious part of the problem, but so too is my perception and the stories that I tell myself. Fear has become a habit. I am not dying, I am just doing something that my body struggles with, it is difficult but not impossible. Yes, some people are staring, some may even think that I am drunk, but I have the choice of betraying myself by never leaving the safety of my house again, or I can decide to face the challenge and their glances head on. Every difficulty that Parkinson’s sends my way is an opportunity to grow and improve, and so, I am being given a lesson in breaking through my fears and embracing difficulties. I believe that everyone is afraid of something, and we all have things that hold us back, I am writing this blog in the hope that you too will be encouraged to feel the fear and do it anyway.

The longest journeys begin with a single step, and I have accepted that I need to work twice as hard to achieve that step. I must plan each and every movement; shoulders back, chest out, chin up, heel first, lift my dragging leg that feels like it has a sandbag attached to it, transfer my weight from side to side, and try to ignore the mounting anxiety. I move differently from some people, and rather than trying to hide my symptoms, I am trying to become comfortable with being noticed and stared at. By allowing myself to feel discomfort, the more discomfort I will be able to tolerate, and the more inclined I will be to continuously push myself out of my comfort zone.

Life doesn’t always give us what we want, and sometimes it seems to be one obstacle after another, but difficulties will cross most of our paths; relationships can end, financial hardship might strike, and serious illness may enter our lives. Then what? We can either allow ourselves to be stopped by setbacks, or chisel away at the problem day by day. We can listen to fearful thoughts, or flick them away, accept that it will be hard, and get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

It is important to stress that I am not looking at this through rose-coloured glasses; some of the obstacles that we face may be impossible to move, and some things are bigger than us. We have every right to get sad and even mad, but then we have no choice but to try to make the best of things, if we cannot solve the issue then we can at least try to make it better. I don’t have the luxury of ignoring my situation, I must keep going no matter what it takes; I need to put one foot in front of the other and keep on trying. I often think of the Friends’ episode where Phoebe runs in an unusual manner, Rachel is embarrassed that people are looking, but Phoebe doesn’t care as she feels so free; I walk in an unusual manner, but just like Phoebe, I can’t let that stop me.

‘The cave that you fear to enter holds the treasure that you seek’.

Joseph Campbell

To be good at something takes practice, patience, and persistence, and the same applies to overcoming obstacles that are both real and perceived. We cannot cross our fingers and hope that everything will sort itself out, we can act or else stand back and do nothing. Control what you can and let go of what you can’t. I am starting step by step; my 5-minute walk will become a 10-minute walk, some days it will be a limp and a hobble, but most importantly, I am working at it. I believe that it can be done, and I am determined to rise above my mental blocks and self-imposed limitations. I am throwing all that I have at my problem and breaking it down into small steps – literally. Can you do the same?

If there is no struggle, there is no growth, and I know that Parkinson’s has been the making of me. Some may say that walking well again is impossible, but their limitations are not my own. The power of placebo is notorious with Parkinson’s, and I am preparing for my finest hour. You too don’t know what you’re capable of until you try, don’t deny yourself the life that you deserve. It’s time to step up!

Are You Having a Laugh?

Nothing beats a good laugh, the sort of laugh where tears are streaming down your face and your stomach aches. It is often said that ‘Laughter is the best medicine’; and it really does do you the world of good, it is incredibly healing for the body, mind, and spirit. Whilst I don’t want to create false hope by suggesting that it is a miracle cure to illness, it is important to acknowledge that there is much scientific research to show that laughter has immense therapeutic value. Humour can provide reprieve, refuge, and much-needed hope for the weary soul.

Some of you may have read the wonderful best-selling book by Norman Cousins called Anatomy of an Illness; he was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis, a condition that was meant to be terminal and incurable, it caused him constant pain and he recounts that he felt like he had been run over by a truck. He found that after watching funny movies, the associated belly laughing acted as an anaesthetic and gave him relief from the pain. He decided to make laughter part of his daily routine; healing didn’t happen overnight, but he ended up living twenty years longer than predicted. The beautiful Robin Williams’ movie based on the life of Patch Adams also shows the importance of using humour in a programme of recovery.  If negative emotions damage our health, then surely positive emotions can help us to heal?

Laughter releases healing hormones such as serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin, it also lowers blood pressure and cortisol levels. Laughing often encourages a more positive mental attitude and undoes the negative effects of stress. Most importantly it creates a positive environment that will optimise healing.

The brains of those with Parkinson’s lose the ability to produce dopamine; leading to loss of movement, anxiety, and depression, and so, many patients take dopaminergic medications. However, laughter causes an increase in the neurotransmitter dopamine, and it can increase dopamine concentrations by up to 50 times. Laughter is clearly one way to help us to manage our symptoms. Parkinson’s is hardly a barrel of laughs and there are days when you can barely raise a smile, but it is important to start making your own dopamine and to ensure that laughter does not disappear from your life completely. As soon as we relax and are out of fight or flight mode, our bodies have the right circumstances to heal.

So, whether you have Parkinson’s or not, it is important to reflect on how much laughter there is in your life. We certainly can’t be laughing all of the time, life is hard, but it is important to give yourself a break and just escape; never postpone sitting down and devoting some time to just having a laugh.

I think that it’s time that we all brought more laughter into our lives. Gelotology is the term given to the science of laughter, and research shows that it can’t be the odd chuckle here and there; sustained laughing out loud is needed to produce dopamine. A hearty belly laugh for about 20 minutes will ensure that you enjoy the health benefits mentioned.  It’s time to lighten up, take a little respite, and start scheduling in laughter breaks throughout the day, don’t leave laughter to chance, make time to laugh every single day. Search for things that make you laugh, be around people who make you laugh, have a playful approach to life, create an environment of joy and happiness, and seek pleasure in the simple things.

Change will not happen overnight, a return to happiness will take time, but trust that the positive steps that you are taking today are accumulating and are working. If you are under chronic stress, your body cannot heal itself, so make laughter into a daily habit, it’s free, and is just as important as any medicine or supplement that you may take. Laugh daily, not just for your health, but quite simply because it feels so good!  

When Did You Stop Dancing?

It’s a long time since I have felt graceful; Parkinson’s has left me feeling clumsy, heavy-footed, and awkward, but dancing has become my daily medicine. For the duration of a dance, I can forget that I have Parkinson’s; all symptoms are suspended. The music puts my brain into a relaxed state, something that those with Parkinson’s rarely experience; rigidity is transformed to fluidity, my body feels lighter and young again, and I am no longer self-conscious or lacking in coordination.

Dancing addresses many of the physical and emotional symptoms of Parkinson’s and indeed many other conditions. Chronic illnesses can chip away at your confidence as you deal with accelerated aging; the body experiences disability, but so too does the whole person. Loss of energy and joy are symptoms of Parkinson’s, but dancing is a natural antidepressant, and it is now essential to my wellbeing. I cried when I first started dancing again; for the first time in years, my body was able to move in ways that I thought it would never do again, energy was moving through every cell and negative emotions were released, I was able to dance with abandonment and like nobody was watching.

‘Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain’.

Vivian Greene

Dancing is open to all regardless of mobility or ability, and everyone can do it at their own level. There has been much research on the physical and psychological benefits of dance; it can be a fun cardio workout, feel good endorphins are released, the body relaxes, and it is a chance to escape and to clear away the mental clutter. Dancing is a shortcut to happiness. I dance to all types of music, but as a teenager of the 90s I always end up fist-pumping to my 90’s playlist; once a raver, always a raver😉!

Dancing can have a powerful impact on the wellbeing of those with Parkinson’s and other chronic illnesses, and it is an important part of my own programme of recovery and rehabilitation. Dance retrains my brain to release dopamine, it helps to slow down muscle wastage, I can unwind as my tense body loosens up, my feet no longer drag, muscle movement and motor control improve, my gait rebalances, and for the duration of that song I don’t have Parkinson’s. Those few precious moments can help to create new neural pathways as feelings of joy immerse every cell, and my body and soul are always left feeling refreshed.

If mobility is an issue, then dance the way that you can; there is no wrong way to dance, you don’t need to be able to pirouette or do the Argentine Tango. You could sit on a chair or on the floor, lie down on your bed, tap your toes, shimmy your shoulders, nod your head, just keep it simple and relax. Dancing is not beyond your reach; this is your dance and your own moving meditation.

Your body is asking you, ‘May I have this dance?’, just listen to it. Feeling lighter is just a few moments away, so give your body some peace, surrender to the flow of the music, and rebuild your confidence one step at a time. Dance can offer you a lifeline, and the more you do it, the more you will give your body, mind, and soul the therapy that they need. So, get your glowsticks at the ready! Once you start, you will wonder why you waited so long…

Spirituality and Healing

A health crisis can cause our lives to come crumbling down around us, and it will inevitably be a catalyst for change. Healing requires an excavation of our lives and getting rid of those things that do not aid our recovery; our new lives are often unrecognisable compared to the old ones that we left behind. However, as our world is ripped out from under our feet, we often find that we become more reflective and that our spiritual connection deepens as we try to seek meaning and purpose in what is happening to us.  

Spirituality can be a sensitive subject to talk about and it is with great delicacy that I will broach the possibility of a link to healing; I realise that some people may be triggered and will immediately switch off, whilst others may find solace in these words. I can only speak about my own experience and fully accept that this may not be the case for everyone. I do not believe that spirituality should replace conventional medicine, but I do believe in taking the best of both worlds and that all options should be used on the path to healing. I am open to trying everything and anything to heal, and I find that having an open mind is a real asset as I try to create the right environment for my recovery.

Spirituality is the part of me that is drawn to hope and miracles, it gives me peace of mind, it encourages me to reflect, it helps me to deal with life’s challenges, it reminds me to choose higher thoughts and to hope for the best prognosis rather than the worst.

I believe that there is more to healing than just dealing with the body, and so I have naturally gravitated towards using a holistic approach; I work with fantastic medical nurses, doctors, and consultants, but also with many amazing holistic practitioners. Good health requires us to address not just our physical bodies, but also our mental, emotional, and spiritual needs; and by doing so we can understand what active role we can play in our recovery.  

I am not suggesting that every illness will be cured, but I also recognise that incredible healings do take place. Our lives often change externally when we change internally, and we can use illness as a period of spiritual development; it can be a real eye-opener as we are forced to slow down and let go of what isn’t working for us. This doesn’t mean that you have to like what has happened to you or that you don’t want to get better, but you are accepting that you are on a path to change. In her book Radical Remission, Kelly Turner shows that spiritual belief complemented the healing journey of many of the cancer survivors that she worked with, they believed that things could turn around and that miracles were possible. The potential to heal was indeed a reality!

Spiritual activities are part of my daily routine, and I do them to varying degrees throughout the day. This can be done through prayer, yoga, meditation, spending time in nature, listening to music, inspirational reading, acts of kindness, and the list could go on; but what matters most is to quiet the mind and go inwards. These activities induce relaxation, slow the body and mind down, and help us to release healthy hormones such as melatonin, dopamine, serotonin; all of which give a welcome boost to our health.

Healing requires patience, and change will not happen overnight. What has healed others may not heal you, but at the very least you may feel better equipped to cope with your illness and the road ahead. Find what works for you, leave room for mystery, hold on to the belief that magical things can and do happen; you have nothing to lose, and it may even help more than you could ever have imagined…