The end of July was fast approaching. I'd been traveling so long, that traveling felt like my natural state of being.
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Starting at the beginning of May we had spent five weeks at
Redbud Community - my dad, my husband and I. The seven-hour drive south was nice, especially because they were having unusually warm weather even for the area, making it feel like we'd ventured forward in time two months.
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Then we'd spent a week in
Snowland in my apartment within my parents' house. I'd fallen for Gongchan,
taken his virginity and rapidly had my heart-broken.
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I'd helped
Mermaid load her belongings into a moving truck after she'd been evicted with her new boyfriend from their previous location.
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Then we'd hit the road again mid-June.
A nine-hour drive took us to Basket Bear's place to keep an eye on his two large dogs and his beautiful home for nearly three weeks.
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A little ways into July we spent five days with
Lilac and her husband, Heron. I fell deeper and deeper into a fever and spent my waking time processing and/or watching Teal Swan on youtube on Paladin's tablet in bed. I decided perhaps I needed to leave Paladin to find happiness and almost left him.
For a few hours I really believed that I would do so, and so did Paladin.
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He believed it so much he began to "shut down" energetically. I couldn't feel his presence even as he lay beside me. I became hysterical, of course. I talked him out of leaving me, mostly in the form of wailing, "Don't leave me." The following morning he got a tic bite on his upper thigh. We were able to get it out whole without losing the head with the aid of oregano essential oil. We figured everything was fine since there was no sign that it had even happened the following day.
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We realized on Wednesday, July 8th, that we didn't have any plan for where we were going to be that weekend. Our friends an hour south, Chad and Brenda, were not expecting us until Sunday evening, and Lilac and Heron couldn't have us past Friday morning. I contacted a bunch of people, including Oryx and Hare, trying to figure out where we could possibly go. A friend of a friend came through for the weekend. We happily stayed in an apartment with a guy we'd never met prior.
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He turned out to be into board games and was very affable. He said many times, "Help yourselves to anything at all." I helped myself to his stash of medjool dates.
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On the way from there to Chad's place we were pulled over by a cop for having one of our headlights out. He fortunately let us off the hook. I kept visualizing and feeling the relief I'd feel if he let us off the hook. I kept hearing Teal's voice in my mind saying, "Pure positive focus." When he actually let us off the hook it didn't feel mystical, it just felt like a nice cop who felt bad for our misfortune.
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Upon arriving at Chad and Brenda's, things picked up where they'd left off prior to all the incredible experiences Paladin and I had experienced while staying with Lilac and Jason. I had felt safe at Lilac's place to be sick, to be spiritual, to be connected, to be honest and truly authentic. Those powerful feelings had facilitated growth and change.
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It didn't feel that way with Chad and Brenda. They were open-minded, sure. They were openly into BDSM, they were polyamorous people (which Lilac and Heron were not, actually), and they even had a clothing-optional home. These things were highly appreciated, but the emotional safety wasn't there. They wouldn't understand that a high fever and swollen glands is just my body reflecting emotional aspects of myself that I'm finally ready to work through.
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And so I was back to work on my various projects. I worked hard on my latest board game design and for my main client, White Whale.
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Then, after we'd been at Chad's about three days, Paladin showed me the location of the tic bite. It was swollen, red and very enlarged. Lyme disease.
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Paladin, who'd been the paranoid one about tic bites, now had lyme. We called Lilac and Heron. They'd had lots of advice about it while we'd been there, but their only advice at this point was to see a doctor and get antibiotics.
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"Paladin doesn't have insurance," I said.
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"Maybe you can look into a community clinic," Lilac suggested over the phone.
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I felt afraid, but I also felt that antibiotics were not what was needed. He would or wouldn't recover based on his emotions. It was our near-breakup experience that made him a vibrational match to wanting to die, and thus the tic bite the following morning. We had to change that if we were going to have any physical impact.
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Days of processing ensued. We stayed shut in Chad's guest room for hours every evening and every morning. I performed lymphatic massage on Paladin for hours at a time, my muscles miraculously more up to the challenge than ever before. The lymph valve at his hip bone, just inches away from the bite location, was highly inflamed and enlarged. Even gentle pressure caused immense pain at first.
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"Go into the pain," I directed, pressing on the valve with my left hand and stroking up his thigh with my right. "Breathe into this spot," I said, pressing down harder. He convulsed beneath me and I let up the pressure a little.
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"Why do you feel this pain?" I asked. He didn't respond at first. "Answer me like it isn't a trick question," I prompted.
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"Because I was bitten by a tic," he said. I thought to myself, well, no, the most obvious answer is that I'm pressing on a backed up valve. Then I'd ask why the valve is backed up and then you'd say it was because a tic bit you, but I guess it is okay to skip that first step.
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"Okay. Why were you bitten by a tic?" I asked. I continued to stoke up his thigh, my hands coated in olive oil mixed with oregano essential oil.
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"Because I wanted to die."
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"Why did you want to die?"
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"Because you were going to leave me," he said.
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"What would be so bad about that?" I asked, pressing harder.
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After taking a moment to recover his wits he replied, "Because without you I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I wouldn't be able to get a job. Something really bad would happen to me."
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"Why do you believe that?" I asked.
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"Because I'm worthless. I have nothing to offer."
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"Why do you believe that?" I asked, pumping the valve. The swollen, hard valve was beginning to soften slightly. I alternated pumping it with rubbing his stomach in clockwise circles, paying special attention to the area beneath his right-rib cage to stimulate his liver.
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"I'm worthless because... Because..." He gasped and didn't finish.
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I tried a different tactic: "What does it mean to you to be worthless? What does it mean about you?"
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"It means I'm a bad person."
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"Ah," I said. Here, at last, we'd arrived at a core belief. "Who taught you that you were a bad person?"
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He shrugged, tears in his eyes. "Must have been one of my parents. I don't know."
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"Feel the answer," I directed. Then changing tunes, I said, "Can you hear the window fan?"
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A moment's pause, and then he said, "Yes."
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"Can you hear Chad playing the piano downstairs," I asked.
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"Yes," he said.
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"Can you hear my hands moving in circles?"
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He took a moment, and then, "Yes."
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I took a moment to think. After feeling, then what?
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"Can you feel my hands moving in circles around your stomach?"
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"Yes," he said immediately.
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"Can you feel your weight against the bed?" I asked.
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He took longer this time, then, "Yes."
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"Keep your eyes closed," I directed. "Now tell me one thing you see."
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"The darkness behind my eyelids," he said, then he chuckled a little.
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I smiled. "What else do you see?"
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"I see your hands on my stomach," he said, his eyes still closed.
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"What else?"
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"I see Chad playing the piano."
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"Good. Now tell me something else you hear."
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"Your voice," he said.
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"What else?"
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We both stopped and listened. I could hear the fan, the piano and my hands moving, but nothing else at first. I listened intently. Then I heard what might have been distant voices, perhaps outside.
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"I might hear voices."
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"Good," I said. "What else do you feel?"
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"Tension in my back," he said.
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I nodded to myself. He always felt tension in his back.
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"Can you feel the air from the window-fan on your bare toes?" I asked. Around and around my hands went, then up his thigh, onto the valve for a moment, and then around his stomach again. It was very zen.
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"Yes," he said.
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"Tell me, what else do you see in your mind's eye?"
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"The car headlight that I have yet to change."
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"What else?" I asked.
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"My computer."
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And then we were on to the last round, this time with just one thing for hearing, feeling and seeing.
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"What do you hear?"
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After a long time he said, "My breathing."
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"What do you feel?"
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"Pain in my hip valve."
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"What do you see?"
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"You, taking care of me."
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I smiled. "So from this place of sensing and feeling, I want you to reach back through time. Flow back to when you were a child. Feel yourself at a younger age. Tell me, how old were you the first time you decided you must be a bad person."
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He was quiet. I continued the lymphatic massage quietly, waiting. After a minute I said, "Just say an age. Don't think about it. Just let a number roll off your lips."
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"Four," he said.
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"So four was when you decided you were not a good person?"
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"And five. And six. And seven... Eight... Nine... Ten..."
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"So you made this conclusion over and over again, starting when you were four. Yes?"
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"Yes, but also before that."
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"Ah," I said. "When you were a baby and your mother's emotions of pain made you feel like you were a bad baby."
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"Yes. But also before that."
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"Even when you were in the womb?"
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Paladin nodded, no longer able to speak as the tears flowed down his face. The swollen knot at his hip valve dissolved under my hand. I went back to circling his stomach.
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"You felt her feelings then. She blamed you," I said.
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"She blamed herself too," he said, weeping in spasms, moans and tears.
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"She didn't feel ready," I said, my own voice choking up and tears coming to my eyes. "And you felt all of that. You felt like it meant you were not good."
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He began to wail in earnest, and I leaned over and held him as he cried. He clutched at me.
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"I'm sorry you had to feel that," I said. "It wasn't your fault."
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He cried even harder.
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"You were never a bad baby. It was her feelings you were feeling. You felt her uncertainty and fear. It wasn't her fault either. She was hurting because her mother did the same to her. Her mother neglected her emotionally, just as she neglected you emotionally. She felt her mother's pain just as you felt her pain."
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I passed him a tissue and he blew his nose, still crying.
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"It's okay. You're not a bad person. You were not a bad baby," I said. He was calming down, and also hardening again.
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"Have some compassion for baby Paladin," I said.
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He began to weep again. I smiled. Maybe we could really beat this thing.
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After a few minutes I connected the dots for him, starting by asking him again, "Why does your leg hurt?"
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"Because everything is pain?" He asked tentatively.
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"Your leg hurts because I'm pressing on this clogged up valve. This valve is clogged up because you got a tic bite which became infected. Why did you get the tic bite?"
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"Because I became a match to it, vibrationally."
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"Yes. And you were a match to it because you wanted to die. You wanted to die because you were afraid I would leave you. You were afraid because you felt that you'd be worthless without me. You feel that you are worthless because you believe you are a bad person. And why do you believe that?"
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"Because I am...?"
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"You believe that you are a bad person because when you were in the womb your mother had many negative emotions about being pregnant. You came to the conclusion that you were bad because you felt her resentment and pain as an embryo, and as a baby, and all throughout your childhood." I paused while he cried. "So why does your leg hurt?"
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"Because I'm worthless?"
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I sighed inwardly. It is always hard to see our own patterns. It is much easier to see patterns in other people. And the patterns we see in others are only visible because we know them to be true about ourselves on some level or another.
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Keeping this in mind I said calmly, "You are in immense pain because your mother convinced you that you're a bad person. And she did this because her mother convinced her that she was a bad person. And on it goes back in time."
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He began to cry once again.
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I asked him later that night if he would promise not to eat anything I didn't first approve. I promised that I would use the best of my intuition and prompt him to check in with his intuition as well.
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"I won't make up rules for fasting. I'll just use intuition every day to decide. And I will fast with you," I said.
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He agreed. The following morning I went to the farmer's market. Many things looked appealing, but I stayed in a place of emotional integrity, not letting myself select foods based on what emotions I wanted to repress.
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I was never a big fan of beets, but I felt myself particularly drawn to them this time. I bought three large purple beets. I also bought black raspberries, black currants, peas, sage, mustard greens, chaga-mushroom tea, and cucumbers. In particular, I felt that the beets and mustard greens were important.
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The next day I read an article Lilac sent me which mentioned the importance of raising oxygen in the body to kill off the bacteria in cases of lyme disease. The article didn't mention beets, but I had read before that beets dramatically raised oxygen levels in the blood-steam. I passed this information on to Paladin and said, "I'm so glad. This helps confirm my faith."
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"Mine too," he agreed.
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I had him take eight drops of oregano oil in a capsule. I had him take eight drops of iodine in water. I felt that these things were important. Later I read that thyroid support via supplementation with iodine was important for preventing damage caused from lyme disease.
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Hare visited us briefly at Chad's place. Chad and Brenda knew her through the same polyamory gathering that I knew Chad and Brenda through (not to mention Basket Bear and many other people who had become important to me over the past few years).
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Paladin, for once, was not modest. He stayed naked even as Hare came into the room. I'd never seen him so unafraid to be naked before. It made me smile.
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"Paladin has something to tell you," I said after initial greetings had been made.
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"I do?" he asked. Then after a moment he said, "Oh, that."
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Hare smiled, sitting cross-legged on the bed with us.
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"Well," Paladin said, looking shy. "I feel bad. I feel like I abandoned you and Oryx. I have not called, even though I said I would."
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"Awww," said Hare. "It's just your pattern. You're a not-calling robot. You can't help it."
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Paladin made a face that was a cross between a smile and anguish.
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"I still accept you and love you," Hare said.
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Paladin eyes filled with tears. "Make me cry, why don't you," He said.
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A couple days later I wrote to Lilac (who is a good friend of
Oryx and Hare):
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Between fasting, silver that Hare gave us, lots of oregano internally and externally, as well as immense loads of processing (hours of crying each day about childhood traumas brought forward through emotional processing, intuition, Teal Swan videos, etc), and also a lot of lymphatic massage, Paladin's rash is about gone, and both of us have the strong intuitive feeling that the clinic/doctor/antibiotic route isn't what is needed.
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Crazy levels of change are ocurring. I spontaneously was hypnotized (without either of us trying) into being my six-year-old self. I asked Paladin questions, and he answered them. I took those understandings back in time with me and it's torn lose a lot of the fabric that held together my gender-role issues and self-worth issues. He is having similarly large major break-throughs.
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Thanks so much for facilitating. I know you and Heron may not have consciously decided to help us with any of this stuff, but something about your space, your energy, your allowing nature allowed us to move into another phase of our spiritual/emotional development.
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Blessings,
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Nuria
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After we left Chad and Brenda's place we went on to stay with Hare and her partner on their homestead. Between living in a tent, showering outdoors, using an outhouse that was a bit of a walk, using an outdoor kitchen without running water, and the communting into town to use internet, the treatment stopped.
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Paladin continued taking oregano internally, but the lymphatic massage stopped and most importantly, the processing stopped. I became more and more triggered by Hare and the situation, and stopped being able to facilate as I had.
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By the time we arrived back at Lilac's and Heron's place, Paladin no longer felt that he was getting well.
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"I think the most authentic way to move forward is to just get the doxycyline," Paladin said.
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"But how?"
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"I've been doing some reading online. We can get it as fish medicine and only pay $25 for a month's supply."
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My jaw dropped. "But for humans it costs over $200 for the same amount and requires a doctor's visit!"
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We ordered the doxycyline. In the mean time Paladin started taking cat's claw as a tea which immediately started helping his symptoms in a dramatic way.
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I still strongly felt we could have done it without antiboitics, but the important thing was moving forward in ways that felt right for us at the time, not sticking to some ideal about not using antibiotics. The key was doing what worked, what helped, and what felt self-loving.