We can all share this space

What I've learnt about holism and healing.

Photo by Ch Jawad from Pexels

Last night I had a sinus headache that made my brain feel like it was going to explode. I could locate the specific area of discomfort within my skull because of the intense throbbing in that one spot. Lying on the bed, my attention fully tuned in to the hurt, my mind was consumed by the awful thumping, pressure and tightness. I felt my awareness diving deep into that part of my skull, and I became cognizant of every sensation associated with the ache. It was an unpleasant physical experience, but as the pain put me in a trance, I heard: “I am here also”. I interpreted this as God, grace or my higher self telling me that it is present even in the very core of my distress and discomfort, that even this pain was sacred.

When we think of healing, many of us think of the removal of an illness, pain or malaise, the shrinking of tumors, the disappearance of a physical anomalies, the alleviation of symptoms of pathology or dysfunction. But what if healing is not about cure but about accommodation, acceptance and adaptation? What if healing is about shifting how we orientate to something that’s generally deemed negative, undesirable, nefarious or tragic? What if healing is not about full recovery, but about making space for situations and circumstances that appear to be unwanted, unpleasant or unfortunate?

I so want to believe in miracles, and that the world can perpetually be a healthy, happy, peaceful place. But I’ve been around long enough to know that expecting miracles or a “perfect world” sets me up for disappointment. I’ve learnt that I need to allow my sinus headache – and other ailments or situations which I assess to be unpleasant, inconvenient or horrific – to coexist with everything else (like my nose, which allows me to breath, and the allergens that occupy my nasal cavity) because every single thing regardless of my positive, neutral or negative assessment of it, has a higher purpose that’s beyond the grasp of my mortal mind.

Once, I was using the restroom in the middle of an ayahuasca ceremony when a car alarm outside the house (where the ceremony was being) held went off. A thought arose: “It’s OK. We can share this space” – the harmonious music being played in the ceremony room and the blaring alarm. Under the influence of ayahuasca, sitting on the toilet in the restroom of this old house, I felt the presence of a ghost (perhaps just the energetic imprints from the memories of the life of a person who has since moved from this property but may or may not be alive somewhere else). “We can share this space”, I said to the “ghost” as I finished my pee.

Back in the ceremony room, I closed my eyes and saw a vision of a quadriplegic man in a bathtub. I then saw a network of insurance call center workers busy processing claims (my assumption was that these were the quadriplegic man’s claims). Next, I saw the man sitting in a high-tech, wheelchair-like machine that had functions which assisted his body to stand and move. The wheelchair was equipped with an AI-enabled computer that helped him perform tasks that he was only able to do with his mind but not his body.  “We will help you”, say the network that we call health insurance. “We will help you”, say the technology that we call artificial intelligence. “We will help you. Let us share this space (earth),” says the universe and all the unseen powers of the cosmos that bring all things in our world into being. In the months leading up to the ceremony, I had been in conversations where people were criticizing the “greed, inefficiency, and stupidity” of the health insurance industry. I engaged in other conversations where people shook their heads and complained about how AI was going to ruin the future of the human race.

The vision of the paraplegic showed me that even though our systems (educational, healthcare, governmental, religious, transportational, and technological) don’t always work and might have detrimental effects on society, the intentions of these systems are noble. Insurance and AI were created to be of service to humankind, to aid those who are most difficult to help but most in need of help (like the quadriplegic man). These systems are conceived by the universal mind because the universe leaves no one out; its purpose is to ensure that everyone and everything – especially those with limited support – survives regardless of their circumstances. We may not understand or accept war or death, but the universe understands that the destruction and cessation of physical life or of a certain “world” on one side of the planet is what’s needed for new or continued physical life on the other.

Healing means "to be made whole". Maybe the universe – via the evolution of our planet and through ideas imparted to the minds of humans through the ages – provides us with pathogens, antibiotics, wars, cultural trends, infrastructure, systems, schools of thought, and technologies so we can learn what we must learn in order to "be made whole”. Unlike duality which sees reality in separate parts, through the lens of good versus bad, right versus wrong, comfort versus suffering, abled versus disabled, salubrious versus toxic, wholeness is all inclusive; it does not aim to eliminate or eradicate. It makes do.

So perhaps the universe’s call to healing is this: “We can all share this space (earth, the galaxies, our body which is home to trillions of microorganisms)”. Animal, mineral, vegetable, material, immaterial, joy, suffering, life, death, winning the lottery, getting cancer, sound bowls, blaring car alarms, war, peace, even microplastics, AI and sinus headaches. We can all share this space. We can all exist here together.