I read a line in a book this morning which said this – “We don’t heal our symptoms; our symptoms heal us.”
Quoting this here isn’t me being all heavy or philosophical or esoteric. Trust me. The ability to think deeply intellectually about this or that continues to depart. Something like this line from one of my in-progress, once-upon-a-time stories – “You could hear what sounded like faint little giggles, like a group of six-year-olds running down a hill, away from all of us.”
Pretty much these days I find myself having drifted off, and time has passed and I couldn’t tell you what had gone on while I was away. But it was something. So, “our symptoms heal us” is just interesting. An invitation. Like Alice falling down the well, a good thing. And her particular invitation is following a rabbit who’s always late for the next important date.