“We’re closer because of our beliefs and the paths we are following than some people who are together or know each other for years,” said Michael.
After putting on my sweats, I followed Michael out to the van. “Thank you for everything,” I said, giving him a big hug.
“Don’t put me on a pedestal. Keep me by your side.” I watched Michael drive away. Already, I looked forward to our next visit.
One of the things that Michael advised me to do was to think about loving myself. What did this have to do with healing? Michael had also given me the book Teach Only Love by Dr. Jerry Jampolsky. This author would be in Calgary the following week for a speaking engagement.
The next Tuesday, I went to the Calgary Center for the Performing Arts to see Jerry Jampolsky. I wondered if Michael too was somewhere in the audience. He mentioned that he might be there.
Jerry talked about The Center for Attitudinal Healing in California and the work he did there. His talk was about the miracle of love and its wonderful effect upon our lives. The pages of his book came to life as I listened.
As I left the theater, I had the feeling that my life was being guided by something I could not explain. Perhaps my prayers were being answered. I felt that Michael had been sent to help guide me.
Michael came to see me the next day. We had our usual cup of tea and talked about life. “Did you go to Dr. Jampolsky’s talk?” I asked with curiosity.
“No, I’ve been studying for exams, and I’m exhausted from lack of sleep.” Michael was taking an advanced massage course. “If I had gone to Jerry’s lecture, I would have been sitting in the balcony too. Maybe my seat would have been right next to you. Destiny perhaps.” Michael’s words brought forth a wave of excitement. The word destiny resounded in my being. My soul was trying to tell me something.
Michael gave me another massage. As I lay on the table, I drifted into a peaceful sleep and awoke when he carefully removed the pillow to work on my neck and shoulders. My body was alive with energy rushing up my spine. I did not understand what I was experiencing, but I felt like it was healing my body. “Michael, I wonder why all this health stuff is happening to me. My life seems so negative.”
“Your negatives can be seen as positives if you choose to use them in the right way. What has diabetes taught you that you might not have learned?”
“Many things, but I’m afraid of the health problems.”
“You really can choose love instead of fear. Love conquers all fear.” I started to think about what my experience with diabetes had taught me. It had certainly inspired a spiritual search to understand life.
After the massage, I offered Michael some wheat grass juice. He knew about its healing and cleansing properties, but he had never tasted it. We gathered a few trays from my indoor garden and headed for the kitchen. With a special juicer, we began the task of hand juicing bright green blades of wheat. “Hey this stuff tastes good!” said Michael with surprise.
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
“It reminds me of when I was a kid playing out on the lawn. Every youngster has chewed on a few blades of grass. Even the color of the juice is wonderful.”
“I still think you’re crazy! I can’t stand the stuff.” I prepared one of my aloe vera and wheat grass combinations. I was about to do an eyewash when Michael asked me if he could try it.
“You’re serious? You want to try this? Why?”
“Just for the experience,” grinned Michael. I started to wonder if everything we did in life was just for the experience. Did I create all my health problems to learn something? Many questions echoed in my mind. Michael had brought hope into my life, but was hope enough to heal me?
Michael came to visit me every week for a couple of months. I enjoyed spending time with him. With his help, I felt like I was gaining a whole new perspective on all the changes occurring in my life. It was easy to share with Michael because he did not judge me.
It was a beautiful spring day and there was a gentle wind blowing through the trees. Michael’s van pulled up in front of the house, and I watched him carry his massage table to the door. I wondered how long Michael would be in my life.
“Hi, Wendy! How are you feeling?” asked Michael as he reached the first step to my house.
“Not bad, I guess.”
“Does that mean good or just OK?” I felt like Michael was gently reminding me how my thoughts create my reality. Perhaps I also needed to be more aware of the words that came out of my mouth.
We went downstairs to the family room and sat on the sofa. I looked into Michael’s eyes and a feeling of sadness came over me. The gentle curves of his face embraced a loving smile that had brought me hope these past few months. Why then did I feel sad?
“Is that your Volkswagen out back?” asked Michael.
“Yes, but I want to sell it. It’s been sitting there for a while.”
“Maybe I’ll take a look at it after I give you a massage. I’m thinking about selling my van and buying a house. I may start a full time massage practice here in Calgary.” Michael was working part-time for the racquet club and for a physiotherapy clinic.
Michael passed me a cassette tape that he had brought with him. “Want to listen to some music?” he asked.
“That’s funny, Michael. I just put that same tape into my stereo. You’ll hear it in a minute,” I said, grinning at the coincidence.
After the massage, we went outside to look at my beige VW Fastback. Michael opened the door and sat on the driver’s side. “I’ll think about buying your car. I’m going to Santa Barbara for a vacation next week so I won’t see you for a little while. I’ll give you a call when I get back.”
That week, I went to both the eye specialist and my doctor. My vision was deteriorating and my kidneys were no better. I felt like crawling under a rock. Dying seemed to be my only solution. I phoned Michael and left a message on his answering machine. He would not be home from Santa Barbara for several days, but leaving the message and hearing his voice was a comfort.
Days passed. I sat in silence in my room and prayed for a miracle. The phone rang and I jumped out of the chair to answer it. “Wendy, what’s wrong?” asked Michael. I told him what the doctors had said as I swallowed back tears. “Hang in there, Wendy. I’ll come over tomorrow night and we can talk.” I was relieved that Michael was coming over on a Saturday night to help me. My self-worth was steadily slipping downhill.
“Please help me! I can’t handle any more.”
“There is a positive side to all this. You just can’t see it yet.”
When the doorbell rang the next night, Michael entered wearing a bright colored shirt and white shorts that emphasized his beautifully tanned legs. He had obviously enjoyed many hours basking in the Santa Barbara sunshine. Michael held me in his arms and I lost myself in his embrace. For a brief moment, I forgot about my health.
I sat beside Michael on the sofa and looked into his eyes with despair. “I feel very confused,” I said with tears running down my face. “Everything seemed to be going so well. I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere now.”
“It is difficult to see your own progress because you are in the middle of it.”
“I just don’t know what to do about my health.”
“All the things that happened to you in the past have affected the present.”
“I believe that, but how many people do you know who can totally let go of the past! You can’t change what has already happened, Michael.”
“Yes, but we can change the way