The Way Toward Health - January 11 and 12, 1984

January 11, 1984

Your situations can be called extreme – but true extremes are far less fortunate.  You have, for example, the extremes of poverty suffered by people in many other parts of the world – a poverty that stunts all kinds of growth, mental and physical, and brings about an early death.  Or the extremes of disease, in which children are born without all the faculties needed for life, and – therefore also die an early death.  Or those extremes when entire families suffer patterns of tragedy so whole numbers are wiped out at one time.

There are reasons for such cases, of course.  I simply wanted you to know that many very severe extremes exist, that would make your lives seem most favorable in contrast.  Since you both have such mental agility and a history in this life of health and vitality, that history can be used by Ruburt, if he recalls himself running up and down the steps of the art gallery, for example.  His mind and body both must recognize the validity of those motions, so that there should be no contradictory material to block it.

The mental exercise of seeing himself vigorously cleaning the apartments at 458 (where we used to live on W. Water Street), or the rooms at the hill house (where we live now), can also be used most advantageously.

I may or may not return, again according to those rhythms of which I speak – but know that I am present and approachable.

January 12, 1984

It may be far more pleasant to be good-humored all of the time – but in Ruburt’s situation the fairly infrequent periods of blueness do indeed operate therapeutically, so that he is able to express those feelings through tears, and therefore relieve the body of expressing the same feelings through additional symptoms.

There is a certain residue, in other words of fairly desolate feelings – and these are working themselves out through such expression, thus freeing the body for additional improvements.  He progresses at a certain rate, for example, and encounters some blockages, due to doubts and fears.  These are then released and expressed through tears or through a recognized period of blueness.  Then the system is cleared again, and the way clear for more improvements.

In the past, the body itself was depressed, running at low gear, and this is certainly not the case now.  Each time, of course, the period of blueness is briefer, the system cleared more quickly, and the new improvements also show themselves at a quicker rate.

This is now, at least, a natural casting-off of old doubts and fears, but in such a way that they are recognized and then let go.

The changing condition of the eyes shows the kind of cycles that occur: the upper edges, so to speak, of improvements continue, so that each new improvement is, obviously, superior to the last.  But in the meantime, there is much variation, unevenness, and times when the vision is quite unclear.  Those changes do indeed seem mysterious.  Ruburt is not looking at his own eyes all of the time – so that mysteriousness is somehow taken for granted.  He understands so little about the eye’s operation to begin with, that he does not bother to figure out, or try to figure out, the order that such improvements should take, or how they should happen.

The right leg is immediately before his vision, however – it is highly visible, so that he often compares its position unfavorably with that of the other leg.  This is bound to lead him to consider those impediments that seem to be in the way.  The body can heal the leg as easily as it can heal the eyes, and as easily as it can heal the bedsores.

It is a good idea for now not to concentrate upon that leg, or what it must do eventually in order for walking to take place.  It might help if now and then he imagines his walking taking place as easily and naturally as his thoughts come and go, and in ways as mysterious as the way his vision operates, when it is suddenly clearer, and he reads so much more quickly – for the quick reading will soon be the norm.

It is indeed a step forward that he looked in the mirror today – a very important issue – and so is your suggestion that he do so briefly every day – and smiles.

It shows he is ready to encounter himself, and at least willing to look kindly upon himself.  Of course, the lipstick is an excellent idea, and the eyebrow pencil, so that he begins to care for his face as he used to.  The face’s expression accurately reflects the inner self-image, as odd as it may seem.  A smile, even when he does not feel like smiling, builds up the self-image, and affects the entire bodily condition.

Ruburt has already been healed of conditions quite as complicated as the leg that was broken.

I may or may not return – but know indeed that I am present and approachable, and that I hold both of you in my attention.

(“Do you want to say something about our discussion yesterday, about changing the past from the present?”)

It is very difficult to explain, because what actually happens is sometimes so directly contrary to what seems to have happened.  You do not simply change, or enlarge, your ideas or beliefs about the past – but you change the events of the past themselves for yourself, and sometimes for other also.

It might help if you remember that despite appearances all events are basically subjective.  Their “objectivity” happens at a certain point of focus, and as that focus changes, so do the events.