writing, not drowning

Out of the labyrinth

After two months of spending part of each day thinking that I was going to fall over, I am pleased to report that the labyrinthitis has been sent packing. (Thanks, in no small part, to homeopathy, which came to the rescue; I like to give credit where it is due.) Whenever I mentioned to friends or acquaintances that I had been diagnosed with this frustrating condition, I heard alarming stories - people confined to bed for weeks on end, work and studies interrupted, complete inability to carry out normal everyday tasks. 'Ye gods!', I thought, 'How will I manage?' Well, when you live alone, you manage all sorts of things.

I even managed to drive to Surrey for my youngest niece's wedding, a wonderful day, that I would not have missed for anything. My niece is one of the sunniest, kindest people I know but I had never seen her looking happier or more gorgeous than she did in her dream dress . . .

standing alongside the man she loves.

Her husband and his family are from Dublin and I shared a table at the wedding feast with his uncles and aunts and my sister's closest friend and her partner. The craic was very good indeed and I did allow myself a glass of champagne to toast the happy couple. (In these post-Massive Inconvenience days, alcohol is normally a no-no for me.) 

Sláinte to two very special people.

* * * * *

Now that I am out of the labyrinth, I have been able to put the finishing touches to some pop-up writing workshops that I am running this summer, here in Mid-Devon. If you'd like to know more, just email me via the link over in the right-hand sidebar. I'm quite ridiculously excited about these; they have been in the pipeline for a while, having originally been planned to start in the autumn of 2010. At the time, I had no idea what life was about to chuck at me. Still, that was then and this is very much now. Not only that, after many, many months of vile weather, daily rain and no sun (apart from March) and having had no spring to speak of, it appears to be summer and, suddenly, everything is quite transformed.

Rachel, the wild hops and open minds

Bryonia alba

A last minute invitation took me to supper with friends and a group of smallholders from across the county. Between them, they owned cats, dogs, horses, pigs, sheep, cattle, goats, parrots, a macaw and a ferret. And probably more, which I've forgotten. My friends are great hosts and, after an excellent supper, we sat back to listen to a talk by homeopathic vet, Geoff Johnson.

OK, so I'm a qualified homeopath, I know it works and I don't need convincing but listening to Geoff, who is so knowledgeable and so passionate about his subject, took me right back to my college days, when inspirational lecturers enabled us, their students, to look at and understand health and disease in a different way. As it happens, Geoff studied veterinary science at Cambridge, so went through one of the most rigorous systems of conventional veterinary education and training. You can read about his own transition to homeopathy here. (He is currently looking at the links between quantum physics, Eastern philosophies and homeopathy  - think Fritjof Capra's The Tao of Physics.)

We were all more than happy for Geoff to over-run his 45-minute slot, his topics ranging from the roots of disease to the origins of homeopathy and the properties of homeopathic remedies, via a range of case histories, one of which was that of Rachel, the arthritic sheep. Listening to Geoff explain how he reached the heart of the case was compelling, as was his description of the remedy that made all the difference to Rachel - Bryonia Alba, the wild hop. Rachel, by the way, is continuing in good health.

As it happens, Geoff treated one of my cats - the surviving Black Stripe - about three years ago and I was struck then by the observations he made about Black Stripe Two and by the time and care he took with the consultation. The symptoms were a stubborn and troublesome rash that had defied all conventional treatment. The first remedy Geoff prescribed brought about an almost immediate improvement; the second cleared the rash completely. It has never returned. And for those who think that the successful outcome was simply the placebo effect, try explaining how placebo works with a cat - or with any animal, come to that.

There are those who are scornful of homeopathy, primarily because it has not yet been fully demonstrated how it works. But as far as many of us are concerned, absence of proof is not proof of absence. After all, the world was not flat before it was discovered to be round; the land mass we know as Australia existed before it was 'discovered'. For those of us who see homeopathy's efficacy in our daily lives and in those of our animals, it's the fact that it works that is paramount.

The medical and veterinary establishment, driven these days by the powerful global pharmaceutical companies, doesn't care for homeopathy and would like to see it brought to its knees. But then, homeopathic remedies cost very little to produce, so there are no big bucks to be made in their manufacture.

I am not anti-conventional medical and veterinary treatment and there are numerous occasions when it is life-saving but as Hamlet observed: 

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 

And an open mind will, after all, always be of more value to this planet than a closed one.