The ones so transformed are in actuality many of us. Illness is a hand that can reach deep down into the recesses of our soul, pulling up more of its existence into our awareness. In so doing, we become greater than we were, because we realize there is so much more to us than we had previously thought. In the early 1980s, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease. At the time, I was in my last quarter of classes in my graduate program. I was forced to drop school and drop work. Recovery became my full time job. The discovery of my illness was a terrific blow. After all, this was—according to my thinking then—one of those things that happened only to other people, but certainly not to me. There was no room for it in my plans. There was no room for it in my psyche; no frame of Continue reading Recovery became my full time job . . .
When we define truth as a noun—a rigid, fixed object—then any story (information, facts, beliefs, and so on) that either does not fit into, or does not find some counterpart or correlate within our own system, gets categorically rejected. At this point, those boundaries that define the limits of our truth become reinforced. And so does the separation between me/us and others. In this situation, how open can I—as an individual—be toward friends and strangers? How open can I—as a mental health worker—be toward my clients? How open can any of us—in whatever role(s) we play—be toward those we interact with daily on personal and professional bases? [p. 4]