Seizures posted 7/12/2008 9:32:34 AM | 1 kudo what's this?     report abuse tagged: health, spiritual, medicine, church

JackfromtheBox

I received my first seizure sometime around 1997, about three years before I moved into the woods. At that time, I was having a stressful relationship with my job and did something incredibly embarrassing for the character I was trained to portray:

I walked into the edge of a door I had just opened. It put a gash in me right between the eyes. It hurt like hell and bled like crazy. I managed to hide in a corner of the lab with Kimwipes until it stopped.

At home after work, I downed two beers, a small bag of Cheetos, and fell asleep on the couch. An hour later, I woke up to take a piss. I felt feint in the bathroom and fell down, banging my head on something on the way down. It took me about a minute to get back up and I attempted to get back to my couch. I didn’t make it. I collapsed and went into seizure in the living room in front of the entire family.

I felt fine, but everyone insisted that I ride in the ambulance. At the hospital I immediately signed an AMA form (Against Medical Advice). Why should $5,000 worth of tests be done just because I walked into a door? Why should I support an ‘obsessively concerned because it’s profitable’ medical system that will collapse this country if the oil obsessed ownership of the government wasn’t doing it first?

[Plus I’ve always been kind of cheap, but it seems to benefit me on occasion.]

Hey! We’re the 43rd country in the world in terms of longevity. Numero uno in terms of costs! Is this what comes out of a culture awash with feminine energy?

Oops! I’m digressing.

In retrospect, seizures are wake-up calls. Wake-up calls can come in many shapes or forms. Every wake-up call is meant for everyone around, victim and rescuers and spectators. All the energies involved from everyone have conspired to make something happen. If the conscious mind won’t respond with change, the subconscious mind lurks in the dark for the right moment to catch the conscious mind off guard.

WAKE UP!!!!!

So how are you supposed to react to a wake-up call? How do you interpret it? Are you going to let the doctors tell you about the superficial mechanics that brought it about? Don’t they only treat symptoms? Are you going to wind up focusing on this symptom for the rest of your life? Are you going to let them tell you what physical changes you can make so it will never happen again? Will you embrace surgery? Are you going to let them give you pills to fix it? In all the cases above, will the originating thought or belief in the subconscious mind simply and eventually find the next weak link in the chain?

Or are you going to analyze what’s happening in your life and dig up the original thought or dream that created it? Can you ask God or Spirit to just find it and make it stop? Can you ask yourself to acknowledge that it exists, believe it’s in your hand, and toss it in the trash? Can you make the necessary changes in your life to satisfy that thought or dream?

Where do you go to find the answers? Who do you ask? Do the church and main stream therapies have conflicting interests with the economy? How much of our individual freedom should be sacrificed for the community? When does community become meaningless?

Do you think science will ever be able to measure dreams?

I’m writing these thoughts down in question form because this is your life. It is your universe. Your spiritual world, however; is whatever you want it to be, and I don’t dare tell you what to dream. And everything is a dream, a belief, an illusion, reality, or whatever you want to call it. Make the most of it.

Always interpret your wake-up calls in the most positive manner possible, like expecting cancerous things to expel from you when you puke. Believe that it is the best thing that has ever happened to you. This is your universe. You have more control over your body than anyone else in the world. Let your mind listen to it, enjoy it, and love it.

Incidentally, my second and hopefully last seizure happened two years later on a camping trip in Mexico on the Sea of Cortez. It shook up my best friend enough to keep him on the wagon for years, but that is another story.

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