Healing works are the spiritual chores of humanity. Soul dishes. I have selfish reasons for wanting other people to get better sometimes. Selfishness, sadly, doesn’t help. We can create little bubbles and try to live inside them but the chances of someone or something coming along and bursting that bubble with all their unmet needs is higher than winning mega-millions. Also, rich people have rich people problems; their bubbles are just gilded. Us: Dishsoap. Them: Faberge. If I could wave one of those star-filled water wands over the world so humanity could finally have our shit together, I would. Healthy helping is both simpler and more complicated, I think because of quantum physics. It gets exhausting dodging the shrapnel of broken humans. Ouch! Your unresolved mommy issues hit me in the free time! Clean up your own mess! We can’t or won’t or will eventually but not right now. Meanwhile, Legos everywhere. Complaining about it solves nothing. Instead, schedule time alone in the garden (I prefer indoorsy recharging. Plus, we don’t have a yard. The garden is a metaphor. Buddha, Jesus, …Anne Murray?) think nice thoughts, imagine swirling hula-hoops of energetic boundaries surrounding you and surrender to reality with love. xo

The photo is one of the many giant succulents from Mendocino. Plants are good teachers.

22 thoughts on “Soul Dishes

  1. Healthy reasons for wanting other people to get better – yes. I have too many friends with serious health issues, and I worry for and pray for them. But I think you’re writing about other health issues – the self-imposed ones that damage the soul.

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    • All of the above. I’m sorry to hear your friends are struggling with health issues; the mind and body are one and need our compassion equally. Thanks for sharing your thoughts Sharon. I’ll be thinking more on self-imposed soul damage.

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    • I’m going to take issue with this, because at face value, this comment above seems to suggest that mental/emotional illnesses are self-inflicted (or at least easily resolvable), and not worthy of the same compassion as “physical” illnesses, which often have lifestyle components too. This is a dangerous, and rather judgemental, way to think about it, and does not line up with the facts about illnesses, “physical” OR mental/emotional, and can heap additional pain and darkness upon people who are already feeling like pariahs, thanks to attitudes like the one displayed here.

      Please be careful what you say.

      And of course, everyone has the responsibility for their own physical and mental/emotional health, and some people are very serious about preventative health, and about good rehabilitation from any “physical” and/or mental/emotional illnesses they do experience, and some people are very bad at it (and don’t necessarily therefore deserve condemnation). But it is so dangerous to make blanket statements, and to tar everyone in a particular category with the same brush.

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      • Hi Sophie. Thanks for sharing your thoughts about the sometimes unequal love and care given to different physical and mental illnesses. When I read Sharon’s comment I didn’t get the sense that she was saying all illnesses are self-inflicted but that what I was saying in my post was about the kinds of pain we can put ourselves in. Or the kinds of pain we stubbornly refuse to address; like me avoiding certain topics in therapy for years because it was too scary to face. From what I know of Sharon, she’s a good person with a kind heart.
        Yesterday I was talking with someone about why people ruminate on negative memories, recent negative events or things that went wrong in their day. Our brain’s survival reflex is wired to detect and highlight danger. For a person who’s been unsafe more than we’ve been safe we become hyper alert to danger and may even misinterpret things like everyday disappointment or bad luck to proof that we’re not safe and can never let our guard down.
        I planned to sleep in much longer this morning but a telemarketer woke me up so I hope this makes sense.
        I agree with you and appreciate the idea that each life is unique and deserving of TLC.

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  2. I have a bubble, it’s my home. Sadly I have to leave it sometimes. This brings me great anxiety. When I have to leave, if my son has been roped into going with me, he says he can feel it when we leave, and it is like a sigh of relief when we return. To the point that every time he walks me to the door he says, “are you glad to be home mom?” My reply, “yes”. He always says, ” I can tell” 🙂 🙂

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