81. Report from the road

For a long while there was only the pain. Well almost. It did not leave me day and night. It went closer to the skin and became stronger and harder to take. I thought it would go away in a day, two days, three.. but it stayed for three or four weeks. Today I had a two hours break. For three nights I could not sleep. During two of these nights I drew these drawings on my little hand-held computer at night. I keep it near bed. As you can see, the pain got different. It was not any more concentrated in specific places. It was everywhere between the knees and the soles, all over the skin. Yes, specifically stronger where it always was, but almost as strong everywhere else, where it has not been before at all. It became a mood, an atmosphere, an overwhelming-throbbing-and-moving-in-unexpected-waves condition.

Maybe these drawings do not look like pain at all any more, but like confusion, or like a cloud, a colorful cloud sometimes.

During this time I took one session of Access Bars, which left me totally exhausted. The Bars are spots on the head that you touch lightly and release energy from mental formations that block your freedom. Then I took an eight hours class in doing these Access Bars. I got two new clients too. It is a miracle that I could even do sessions without enough sleep. Five minutes into the sessions I start feeling energized and sharp, as if I am in wonderland. Then, when people leave, there is nothing that I want more than to have some sleep.

Several times I draw in watercolor early in the morning or earlier, when it is still night and every time the drawing tells me that I am OK, that I am developing, that all is good.

So I decided to show you the little pain drawings that are different from all the pain drawings from the past. There is almost no composition in them. There are eight in the first night and four in the second night, but I’ll only show a few. And then, one of the morning watercolors and its going-in-with-words. Take this as a report from the road, where I do not yet know where I am, I do not see where I am going, but in spite of the strong and unbearable pain, somehow everything is OK. I can’t walk, I can’t sleep, I can’t sit and yet I do all these, shaking uncontrollably again and again. Somehow it feels right. Not from the point of view of guilt and having to be punished. This feeling has almost completely gone by now.

It does feel all right. I know it is alright.