Dear Jim,
Once again, thanks for your enlightening words! You are forcing me to, once again, learn that HOW one says things is critical to whether one learns anything from them.
Of course, you know that only people that live at least 50 miles from their fresh vegie source should PUT things in the "rotter". Europeans think nothing of going to the market every day to buy the things they are going to eat that day.
Not a bad plan.
Also, there is something to be said for giving up fresh vegies for frozen ones. The time that counts is how long between harvesting & eating. Frozen vegies have the least time between harvesting & freezing (whereby the deteriorating micronutrients are put in a sort os stasis)--
certainly a lot less time than the "fresh" vegies you can get in the market. Of course, some of us live close enough to a "farmer's market" that we can better the grocery store timing. However, not by a whole lot. Still, the frozen vegies have a lot higher % of micronutrients than what you can reliably get unless you grow your own & eat then directly out of the garden.
I know, about this time, you are shaking your head & gritting your teeth. Wellness IS a journey---as is wisdom. I guess that makes me a "process prophet"? Of course, it is all the other things you mentioned as well. Remember the story about the descriptions of the elephant by all the blind men?
Even using the freezer "rotter" can be a problem if you plan on leaving what you buy in there more than a week. Pay special attention to the dating on the stuff you get from the freezer in the grocery store.
Hope this helps.
Namaste` Walt
Dear Mary,
NEVER put your tomatoes in the refrigerator. Thart is what causes tomatoes to get "grainy & pithy".
I didn't learn that till about a year ago. I could never figure out why some of the tomatoes in the grocery were grainy & others were not. Those pithy ones were refrigerated during transit.
When I started telling my friends of my "discovery" about half of them were amazed that I did not already know that "well known fact".
Walt
Dear Jim,
So you been checking out my rutabagas or something? I haven't laughed so hard or learned so much useful info in awhile. An idea...copyright the term "work your rotter" and start selling it on T-shirts. Become very wealthy. Send some T-shirts to AMA members.
Kyra
Dear Jim,
You DO have a gift!
Your story is another example of the old adage: "If you want something done right you will have to do it yourself."
Would that we all could have the privilege of growing our own food OR, short of that, our government cared enough to help the rest of us KNOW what we were getting.
Namaste` Walt
Dear Walt,
I have just returned from a trip to California and a visit with my folks. It was a strain. My mother has taken to her bed and seems to be just waiting for the end. She is a tough old bird. Who can tell how long she will linger. There was a time when I could travel to see them on any weekend, but added distance and the demands of my own life these days seem to conspire to discourage these trips. Such visits are sadly infrequent.
When I am there, I see the way my father has taken over all duties so my mother can spend her days abed with no worry. His loving care includes a scenic tour in the car each morning about ten AM. It is really the only activity she has, and he knows it is essential in keeping her alive. From the back seat, I watch pretty much the same countryside go by as I accompany them, and I listen to the predictable remarks of my father, the earnest tour guide, as the farms move past my window. I see the pain seated stoically in the corners of his eyes as he holds his world together by telling us about the sites of local history we have seen and heard many times before.
"Where that barn is," he says once again, pointing, "there used to be a stage coach stop there. And up the hill there was where they used to tan the hides of all the cattle for a hundred miles around. Then they’d take them down to the bay and put them on wooden ships for market."
Around the next bend is where we will hear about an old mission. I sit quietly in the back, lost in wondering what this place looked like in those early California days. If my father has taught me anything, it is to endure. It is no use to attempt conversation with my parents in the car. Their hearing impairments and their ever more fragile grasp of recent memory combine to turn any discourse we attempt into a labored and halting imitation of "Who’s On First?" I long to have Sharon with me. Her laughter buoys me when I could easily drown in sentiment.
Sometimes the ride ends with a stop at MacDonalds. It has become a ritual for Dad to pick up two little teensy burgers at the drive-up window and take them home to dress them up with cheese, pickle, tomato, and onion. He takes great pride at this frugal maneuver which transforms two micro-burgers into lusty cheeseburgers for less than two dollars! I have found that it is far easier to eat one of these than to annoy him trying to explain about whole food and my diet. He is deeply suspicious of any health ideas that did not originate with him, and he guards his opinions with fervor. That’s OK, I have adopted what I imagine is the Asian perspective, and I acquiesce to him in all matters these days. He’s made it into his eighties and deserves it. It has worked out very well and it costs me little. (Unless one of those E. coli burgers gives me mad cow disease).
But on this day he asks my mother if she would rather have him make her a sandwich. I can tell this is no ordinary sandwich he is talking about. There is something special between them about this sandwich. I gather that it is symbolic of a warm moment they shared at an airport restaurant once upon a time, and he has learned to reproduce it in order to resurrect the feeling. I readily agree to take this "Eucharist" with them, though the communion loaf is in reality a grilled ham and cheese host celebrating a spirit of union between these two I call my parents.
So I sit quietly with Mom at the picture window. We watch clouds go by. There’s really not a lot to say, I’m just being there with her. She sits in her wheelchair I call the Cadillac and breathes oxygen from nasal tubes. From the kitchen come the sounds of my Father wasting no time in creating our sandwiches.
Soon I am holding a sandwich, fried golden brown in butter with processed ham, processed cheese, and chilies inside, and oozing with mayonnaise and mustard. This thing is poison to me, I think, as I munch it down politely, awaiting the edema which surely will follow. But, n
Dear Walt,
Easter vacation is one of the great benefits of being a teacher. This year I would rather have stayed home than make a trip (I just posted the story, which you won’t see till Monday). I have returned to find the weeds rampant in my decorative lava rock. My yard looks like a Chia Pet.
The week before I left, my server shut me down. Sharon had put us on an electronic bill paying program with the bank, and somehow the Internet half of the phone bill wasn’t paid. As you can imagine, it is easier to get turned off than turned back on again.
I had been reading only selected posts, and limiting my responses, rather than completely dropping off the board. Total absence is not good for my health. It is a supportive atmosphere, and I do enjoy following the continuing stories of certain familiar names. Although I must say that Teri, Terrie, Terri thing had me going nuts for awhile when I got back on, because their posts have a distinctively different flavor, and I didn’t catch the spelling difference at first. I thought it was a "Three Faces of Eve" thing.
Anyway, I never did get to respond to Laura and Phyllis about their massage experiences and the question of whose hands have the magic. Ladies, I hope we hear of your success. I am interested to know how it is going.
I also notice also that the "healing touch" is also being dealt with, a fascinating subject and close to my heart. You have written often, here on the board, about the differences in practitioners’ skills and abilities (i.e. with Chiropractic phone diagnosis, and in sharing your frustration in not being able to be in the presence of those you coach). There is certainly a magic that healers have, and it’s like relaxation techniques, no one person is right for all. Most of us are comfortable with the placebo effect but many get testy when this power is expressed directly in touch.
Does it matter who the therapist is? You bet! I tend to look at it as a teacher, and I draw from the kids. Have you ever noticed that students will ask each other, "Who do you have this year?" They don’t ask "what" are you taking, because without even thinking about it, they know that the important thing is "who" is the teacher. One will say, "I got Johnson," and their eyes will roll, and the other will say, "I got Merriweather," and the others listening will go, "Oh you lucky!" Some teachers have a magic that has created a practice called "crashing classes." The subject in education is most often less important to kids than who’s giving the lessons. Sometimes the lessons are less about history than about something else. That’s why you take Merriweather, not history. You get Merriweather! It could be the same in healing. Maybe you’re not getting acupuncture, maybe you’re getting Wong. There is something beyond technical skill (which is not unimportant!).
By the way, there is interesting stuff on the air waves these days. Now vitamin C is bad for us again, and an MD in North Carolina is on national television saying that Fibromyalgia is nothing more than people not wanting to go to work. The show proved that it was real, however, by presenting brain scans showing decreased circulation in the brains of Fibromyalgia sufferers, with a resulting decrease in flow to the hypothalamus. (Oh big surprise?).
Jim
April 09, 1998
In Reply to: Who do you have this year? posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 09:39:05:
Hi Jim!!!!
Gee, I'm glad to see you made it back. I do hope that you write us one of your stories. That Terri, Teri, Terrie thing kinda got to me too! I didn't even notice the difference between Terri and Teri for awhile. But *lol* the three faces of Eve? That would have been scarey!
Take Care,
Terrie
In Reply to: The Family Sandwich posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 00:31:00:
Jim,
What a wonderful story as usual. Thank you. Your parents sound like wonderful people. Where did you grow up? It sounds like the Central Valley area of California (Los Banos? Visalia? Tulare?)
I also strongly suspect that you live in Arizona because of some of your stories. I own a house in Mesa and you describe the beauty of the state so well that it's almost like being "home" again.
Please don't stay gone so long next time. Your stories are a joy to the soul.
Terrie (the pain in the back)
In Reply to: Who do you have this year? posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 09:39:05:
Dear Jim,
Thanks for being on the BB!
Namaste', Kyra
In Reply to: Who do you have this year? posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 09:39:05:
Dear Jim,
As usual, your wisdom sustains me. I am so glad that you are still out there lurking and offering us bits and pieces of YOU.
I am proud that we have been able to save all of your posts for those who need a "Jim fix" now & then.
Namaste` Walt
In Reply to: Re: The Family Sandwich posted by Terrie Milligan on April 11, 1998 at 13:11:44:
Dear Terrie,
Yes it is Arizona. I am a desert rat! And our drives are to the Central Coast. There are so many varieties of beautiful!
Thank you for your kind words.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Who do you have this year? posted by Walt Stoll on April 11, 1998 at 16:55:19:
I'm so glad to know there is a Jim Archive. I had been saving these posts to save my sanity.
Another reason to visit this BB on a regular basis.
Peter
In Reply to: Re: Who do you have this year? posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:15:58:
So True! I send the stories to my mother. They touch my heart.
BTW, where is the archive?
Terrie
In Reply to: Re: The Family Sandwich posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 17:28:40:
hahaha Darn, I'm good..Oooop, sorry...I just had to pat myself on the back for a second. I would call you a desert flower not a rat. Are you familiar with Mesa?
I often miss the beauty of the sunrises in the desert. One of my very favorite times was walking my dog in the desert just as the sun was rising. The desert is alive at that time in the morning. Gosh, I miss it.
Another favorite is the thunderous majisty of the monsoon. I used to leave my bedroom, patio door open during the storms. The sounds and smells are with me always.
There is something very spiritual in Arizona. The peace and joy felt in the sunrises, sunsets, monsoon and even the dust storms. Thank you for bringing it alive for me again.
As I stated earlier, I own my home in AZ but rent it out. My greatest wish is to retire and die there.
Enjoy every moment for me,
Terrie
In Reply to: The Family Sandwich posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 00:31:00:
'lo Jim,
I've folowed your missives, enjoyed them, and left you in peace as so many fellow BBers send you appreciative notes.
This one is poignant as I have just written to my elderly step-mum, steering her 'Cadillac' alone in Cape Town, living at the western edge of her life also.
The distance between us meant that I spent time with my father only thrice since I was a boy - I was sent from home in the Philippines to school in England when I was but 10 in 1955.
I never had a chance to share any of the family lore or observe these special gestures of love and intimacy that for me represent the gift that a long committed relationship can be for a human being.
I last saw both parents in 1984 when Dad realised he could no longer repel the cancer he had fought for a decade. My 3 weeks with him was spent helping my Mum with the non-stop nursing this weary, pain-wracked, stiff-upper-lipped man required. The mind was still there, but was too bent on keeping some dignity to present to the world to have time for us to talk, explore our history or reconcile our mis-expectations one of the other.
I envy you the chances you have with the folks, and thank you for the sharings you have given to us all.
Peace, Deryk
In Reply to: The Family Sandwich posted by Jim on April 11, 1998 at 00:31:00:
Thanks, Jim.
Your wonderful skill with words brought back the last few visits I had with MY parents. They died within a few months of each other in 1991. A priceless gift.
I had come to the same kind of accomodation with them that you have with yours.
Namaste` Walt
In Reply to: Re: The Family Sandwich posted by Deryk Bramwell on April 13, 1998 at 08:51:48:
'lo Deryk,
That was a very touching response. Thank you.
Jim
Dear Walt,
I don't know what you mean when you use the term "Teachable moment" in you role as healer, but I am referring to those sudden and magical moments that arise which often feel like they're interfering with the regular course of events.
As a teacher, I can tell you that you won’t find "teachable moments" in the Understandings, the Experiences, or the Scope and Sequence of the Curriculum Essentials Framework, or in a textbook either. You cannot write a lesson plan for them, and you cannot test for them. Experts will not agree on the nature or outcome of these experiences. You cannot teach them, you can only have them. One person cannot have one alone. Not only is it a shared experience, but it is never clear who is the teacher and who is the student. That is part of the deal. And they do not just happen in the classroom either.
One of these moments may be so simple you wonder about its significance. Maybe no measurable learning has taken place, (at least not that any two thoughtful observers would agree upon). Perhaps it will not be remembered by anyone at all. And yet, there it is for anyone who has eyes to see. Maybe one can only draw from the beauty of the act itself.
Teachable moments ride into town on the same sort of horse as deja vu, and they arrive in an instant with an invitation for you. They may be disguised as stupid questions, disruptive comments, irrelevant responses, or self deprecatory statements. They are unexpected, unplanned, and unbidden. Unfortunately, they are also often unappreciated and unwelcome. The messenger is frequently a trusting child, but also it can also be an angry, irascible grouch of any age.
Instead of accepting the invitation, you may choose to kill the messengers. You may blow them away with sarcasm, dismiss them with indifference, or stamp them out with (and I need orchestral fanfare here) AUTHORITY.
Actually, the invitation to a teachable moment could come from almost anyone at almost any time. You just never know. And there is no time to RSVP. You accept on the spot, or the moment passes. Then you have to wait for the next one, because you will not get the first one back. Recreating the moment is like trying to plan your own surprise party.
So, what will you miss by not accepting the moment? The party favors are adventure, growth, learning, clarity, healing, self-respect, joy, and satisfaction, (and that’s not to mention the possibility of wonder, magic, and awe). Jeez, you would give all that up just to be right? Just to stay on task?
Here's a story to illustrate what I mean.
What Nate Taught Me
The sound of distant traffic told me I had driven the class into silent boredom. I should have known better than trying to explain "factors" to these sixth graders in the afternoon. It was late in the year, and I had already won their respect, so they passively submitted to my ramblings. We were prisoners together. As I droned on that day, part of me drifted on balmy memories of the warm spring afternoons of my own youth when I used to sit watching the clock of torture.
"Because six goes into two three times." I heard the answer. With effort I focused on the face of the speaker. It was Nate. Nate is the boy in every teacher’s class who always raises his hand, even though he never has the right answer. He’d done it again.
When what he said sunk in, I replied, "No, Nate, what you mean is, two goes into six three times." I waited for him to realize his foolishness.
"No, I mean six goes into two." he insisted.
"But that’s not right." I explained, "Two goes into six, and three goes into six, but six doesn’t go into them because it’s too big. See? Two is a factor of six, but six is a multiple of two, not a factor."
But why was this lad looking at me with fear in his eyes? Wasn’t I making things perfectly clear? I wanted to go on. I had so much more knowledge to impart. Still, there was the look
In Reply to: What Nate Taught Me posted by Jim on April 24, 1998 at 09:44:23:
Dear Jim,
As usual: "You are SO right."
Since I have always been interested in living up to the meaning of the word "doctor" (teacher), I learned early on to recognize the "teachable moment" mainly since I was always looking for it.
While I still had a hospital practice, I began to realize that there were more "teachable moments" for the patient in the hospital than there were while they had more control over their lives. It seems that desperation brings out these moments too.
Finally, when my centre gained an international reputation for helping complex problems, people came there already carrying the "teachable moment" with them.
As I got healthier, I became much more aware of what is now called "intuitive medicine". In that state, recognizing the "teachable moment" is a lot easier. I am now on the adjunct faculty for Intuitive Medicine at Greenwich University in Hawaii. As such, I serve as the "mentor" for PhD students for this degree.
If Kyra is lurking here, as a current candidate, she could tell us all a lot more about this program.
Namaste` Walt
In Reply to: What Nate Taught Me posted by Jim on April 24, 1998 at 09:44:23:
Dear Jim,
I don't know how you do it, but your writings always manage to touch something deep in my soul. They always bring a smile and that warm wonderful feeling that I just can't describe.
I hope you don't mind, I send these stories to my mother via email. She loves them, too.
BTW..There is a hidden message to you from Walt.
Thank you,
Terrie
In Reply to: Re: What Nate Taught Me posted by Walt Stoll on April 25, 1998 at 10:41:13:
Dear Mentor Walt,
I'm honored to have you as my guide and mentor in this PhD. program. Interesting to me how the academic process is also part of my overall healing process. That "teachable moment" has occurred in my life too.
The "Science of Intuition and Energy Medicine" Ph.D. program was originally established by C. Norman Shealy, MD and Caroline Myss, Ph.D. (Dr. Shealy recommended that Walt be my mentor.) It is a one-of-a-kind external program administered through Greenwich University in Hilo, HI. The deepest purpose of this program is to provide interested students the opportunity to do scientifically rigorous, statistically-validated scientific research on intuitive medicine-related topics, written up in the traditional scientific research paper paradigm. The completed dissertation is then eligible to be published in a reputable scientific journal, subject to the scrutiny of both the open-minded and the sceptical MD or research scientist. It's about opening minds. When enough people produce real, reproducible research in a manner accessible to the traditional medical/sciendific mindset, and get it published in legitimate journals, slowly but surely, the allopathic monopoly will inevitably have to move past Flexner Report medicine. Each of us in this program is but one small piece of the picture. When enough of us are involved in facilitating the third wave of medicine (which was actually born over 30 years ago, and even longer), positive change must happen. I have no illusions about transforming the world singlehandedly. If my own dissertation is read by 100 MDs/scientists, and creates a "maybe there's really something to this" in the bodymind (Walt's term) of even one of them, then I will have done my job. Brings to mind the Zen paradox of how when a butterfly's wing rustles, that rustling creates a ripple effect with real consequences throughout the world.
To quote from the Greenwich University brochure on the "Science of Intuition and Energy Medicine" program: "Medical intuition has been defined as "the ability to discern the hidden psychological and emotional factors that compromise good health." In this unique program, you will learn that Medical Intuition is a science--a very precise and specific science of correlations with its own vocabulary, diagnostic procedures and training standards."
My own dissertation, just as an example, involves the remote intuitive (psychic, if you will) in vitro identification of bacteria, followed by subsequent in vitro growth inhibition of these same bacteria. The specific medical application of this work relates to the increasing bacterial resistance to antibiotics engendered by the indiscriminate use of these drugs.
Have to come out of the closet here. I'm markedly intuitive/psychic (runs in my family), and believe that everyone carries this ability, whether in latent or expressed form. It's simply not a big deal.
Thanks, Mentor Walt. Caught me lurking.... By the way, I'll have a bunch of Ph.D.-related paper work FedExed to you late this week, before I head off for a related seminar course.
Namaste',
Kyra
In Reply to: Re: What Nate Taught Me posted by Kyra on April 25, 1998 at 14:08:29:
Kyra,
Even your posts on the board are butterfly wings!
Jim
In Reply to: Re: What Nate Taught Me posted by Kyra on April 25, 1998 at 14:08:29:
Dear Kyra,
I just KNEW that you had a lot to contribute here!
NOW, I wish it was titled something like "Intuitive Medicine" so other interested "lurkers" would find it.
Namaste` Walt
Jim,
Thanks so much for your stories. When you wrote of the family sandwhich I thought of the nurturing that can be given by even the most "poisonous" of foods.
Thought I'd share a similar writing. This was for my Grandmother's eulogy. When I wrote it I knew there was something much greater than me. Something that comes from sharing and community and communion. The kind of community that I have found on this BB.
Thanks to those who take the time and the risk to be part of this community. Hope these words hold some truth for others.
In Reply to: Food Nurures Us In Many Ways posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:38:15:
Durn it Pete, that one made me cry. She sounds like my Grandmother who died this year at 84.
Thank you for the memories,
Terrie
In Reply to: Food Nurures Us In Many Ways posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:38:15:
How blessed you are to have had such a woman in your life. She breathed "namaste" by her gracious, loving presence. Thanks for sharing.
In Reply to: Food Nurures Us In Many Ways posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:38:15:
Dear Peter,
Thankyou.
Kyra
In Reply to: Food Nurures Us In Many Ways posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:38:15:
Dear Peter,
You have added so much to this BB. There is no way I can tell you so I will just say this:
"Helping others move toward wellness is an aspect of our own."
Namaste` Walt
In Reply to: Food Nurures Us In Many Ways posted by Peter Wray on April 11, 1998 at 19:38:15:
Peter,
I think of your web site as a place mat you have set to welcome unexpected guests. You sustain your grandmother's spirit in this way.
Jim
Dear Walt,
Your involvement in intuitive medicine comes as no surprise. Your frequent response to what is NOT being said by participants in many of the posts brings constant new awareness to my growing field of vision.
I haven't said so lately, but what you do makes a huge difference in peoples' lives.
With prayerful hands and thankful heart,
Jim
In Reply to: Re: Intuitive Medicine posted by Jim on April 26, 1998 at 13:47:21:
Thanks, Jim.
I know it shouldn't be needed but it still helps to know of your support.
Walt
O.K., Doc/Mentor Walt!
Here goes. For folks interested in the topic of intuitive medicine, please read the recent threads on this BB entitle "Re: Intuitive medicine" and "Re: What Nate taught me".
Kyra
Dear Walt,
It's another of those late work nights, and I've been pondering what constitutes the essence of "intuitive medicine." Perhaps what it is at core level is the ability to experience reverence at the perfection of how everything is interlinked, and how at the same time one "simply knows" that everything, including oneself, that appears interlinked is truly coexistent in the same space, time, and place, and therefore accessible to being known instantly. You ask a question, realize that you are the question, you become the question, open your heart, and simultaneously become/know the answer.
And the examples of true intuitive medicine abound. The physician who walks into the consultation room already knowing what's wrong with the patient and goes through the "bells and feathers" routine of an intake, hiding his ability. Mozart and his music. Kekule and his snake dream about the structure of the benzene ring. Rosalind Franklin, the X-ray crystallographer who was really the one who figured out the nature of the DNA double helix. A mom in the middle of the night with a sick kid, who knows that this time it's serious. The intuitive who can remotely read the nature of an illness or psychological or spiritual disorder in another person, simply by being given their name. All extraordinarily ordinary, and unamenable to reductionism because the Whole, once experienced as the Whole, can't be reduced.
Pardon the late-night philosophy...
Namaste',
Kyra
Dear Walt,
One day, I went into a classroom to talk to a colleague. He had just started his students on a writing assignment, and I sat waiting next to his desk in a student chair, knees up to my chin. As we begin to talk, Brian approached with paper and pencil in his hands.
"How do you spell e?" he interrupted.
There was a lesson coming, but what would it be? You must consider that Brian had not raised his hand, he was interrupting two adults talking, and it really was a laughable question. I have seen teachers dress kids down for any one of these. Would it be a blow to Brian’s innocence? How would the moment play out? I held my breath.
"E?" the teacher looked puzzled.
"Yeah, e."
"Well, I’m not sure. Use it in a sentence so I can understand what you mean."
"You know," Brian said, "Like ‘They didn’t like e chuther.’ I can spell the ‘chuther’ part, but I can’t spell e."
The teacher smiled, and his eyes twinkled. Brian was so proud and confident in his ignorance, so sure of what he thought he knew and needed to know. The beauty of a Bambi-eyed child standing there in the dignity of his wonder! Was it the little extra moisture in the teacher’s eyes, or mine, that made the teacher’s eyes seem to sparkle so?
"OK, Brian, you see, the problem is with the ‘ch’ sound," said the teacher, in his best deadpan earnest voice.
"Sometimes those darned ‘ch’ sounds like to jump from one word to another. Like, in this case, it jumped over to the word ‘other.’ That’s why it sounds like ‘chuther.’ So, what you have to do is put it back on the ‘e.’ Oh, and don’t forget to put the ‘a’ in between. Here, I’ll write it down for you." And he carefully wrote "each other" on Brian’s paper.
Brian studied the sheet intently all the way back to his seat, weaving his way unerringly across the room, never looking up once. The teacher went off to answer another question, and I totally forgot what I was going to say anyway, so I just quietly slipped out the door with a silly grin in my heart, and probably on my face as well.
We should always be so kind to e chuther, dontcha think.
Jim
April 16, 1998
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
Unfortunately we have too many people who think they are the teacher and not enough that realize we are all students.
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
Absolutely, Jim!
Namaste` Linda
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
That is too precious, Jim...or, as we say in south Louisianan: "Cher...."
Kids say the darndest things, don't they.
Nancy
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
Dear Jim,
Teary-eyed stuff, wordsmith! Don't ever stop!
Namaste', Kyra
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
Thank you Jim for touching us, today and all the other times. Please write a book. Martha
In Reply to: Re: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by David Ferguson, D.C. on April 17, 1998 at 10:17:26:
AMEN! Dave. AMEN!
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
You know, I used to check the BB daily for good medical teaching..............:) Move over Mr. Fulton!!
In Reply to: Re: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Bonna on April 19, 1998 at 16:54:32:
Dear Bonna,
Yeah, I know, huh! Well, but the more I learn from Walt and Doc Dave, the more I see parallels between teaching and healing. I find a blurred distinction between teacher and student as Doc Dave points out, and between healer and patient which Walt lives out for us daily on this board.
I am enamored of the breathless moments that occur between people in which learning and healing happen, the unplanned journeys into the slip stream of a new understanding, stepping off the cliff of familiarity in the innocent manner of the Fool of the Tarot deck, recognizing the deity in these unexpected instances which are so often disguised as beggars, and opening ourselves to the blessing of our own folly. Teachers sometimes speak of these unanticipated instances as "learning moments," or "teachable moments." I don’t know what healers call them, or if they even acknowledge them at all. They feel like happy magic.
Anyway, I'm thinking of a story next week to illustrate these two ideas, because just writing ABOUT them is like eating cold oatmeal.
Jim
PS Who is Mr. Fulton?
In Reply to: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 17, 1998 at 08:42:50:
Jim, et al.,
Doesn't the word doctor mean teacher in greek or latin? Aren't all doctors supposed to be teachers (like Dr Stoll is)? We are certainly all students.
Namaste'
Laura
In Reply to: Re: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 19, 1998 at 18:29:13:
I can't wait for the next story! I hope you took me right in that it is such a pleasure finding your nuggets along with the healing information.
I don't think it is "Fulton", sorry. It's the man that wrote "Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten", or something like that. Your impartations of wisdom are simular to his, and I alway leave the BB with a smile.
Thank you so very much. There is no doubt you could make a GOOD living at this!! You have something special that doesn't come along that often.
Bonna
In Reply to: Re: In The Dignity Of Wonder posted by Jim on April 19, 1998 at 18:29:13:
Thanks, again, Jim.
I wish I had your wordsmith expertise. We ALL appreciate your sharing what you do here on the BB!
I see myself as a "healer" rather than a "doctor" even though the word doctor means teacher. I have used the term "teachable moment" for many years and explained it to my patients in my 80+ page bound Client Handbook that each new patient got.
Namaste` Walt