Day Forty-One – A Healing Time


I am awake, I am alive, and this morning I feel the need to put on my jingle dress and dance … dance for global healing.

Yes, the thought of “healing” encompasses my thoughts this morning as I think of my dress, as I think of this week just passed with my own painful challenges, as I think of this healing time that the world is now enduring.

For anyone who has been forced into a time of “healing”, the “do nothing and rest part” is often the most difficult stage because it truly feels like we are doing “nothing”. This is uncomfortable for most, for we have built societies that demand we do “something” constantly (even sleeping has been deemed a “required” activity). It is even more uncomfortable for those who also doubt their worth, those who have built lives made up of endless activities that attempt to prove their value to named or unnamed judges. Sitting still and allowing a natural healing process seems … well, unnatural but it isn’t. It absolutely isn’t.

And that is what I see now – the peoples of the world being asked to do nothing. For many, they are asked to stay home, to travel out as minimally as possible. Suddenly, it is no longer about what you WANT to do. Often, not even about what you thought you NEED to do. No, suddenly we are in a time of healing, as frustrating as any other.

But hidden under the frustration, behind closed doors and shaded windows, I see tiny glimpses of …. dare I say, forced acceptance? Across privileged nations, men and women are suddenly embracing (tentatively?) their natural hair colour, uncontrolled locks, and days with agendas more often than not made up by them. But what do the mice do when the cat is away? I pray they play. I truly, truly do.

I am not immune for I too dance with healing, with frustration, and eventually, with forced acceptance. Truth be told, I am a woman whose younger self was tormented for my long fingers (man hands?). Logically, a younger me knew they matched my long legs, long arms and long torso but appearance wise, long nails seemed to be a saving grace, accenting the fingers I had grown ashamed of, magically transforming them from an insecurity to a trademark but now?

Well, now I like the increased typing speed that comes with natural nails. I like the financial savings and yes, I love the acceptance. This is me, long fingers and all! And to those men who felt the need to taunt … “Honey, if the size of my hands makes you insecure … well, perhaps you just ain’t man enough for me!” (Insert snicker here.)

Yes, the journey continues. Yes, the healing continues. And yes, my jingle dress still beacons. I wonder how warm it will be today? My balcony is calling to me, offering a way for many to hear the healing sound while maintaining a healthy, healing distance. Perhaps …

Whatever your day holds, enjoy your healing today my friend. Perhaps Creator saw that we all could use some healing.