I’ve done this one before. Seven years ago, after my divorce I purged my belongings to about half; three years later the storage unit filled with clothes and treasures had to go! Let me stop right here for a comment. If you choose that road, as a start I strongly encourage you to rustle up some good friends to assist. It’s too hard to do it solo and the memories of the day are so much better. Really! I add this next note for good reason: the one part of my purge that had an X to save next to it was my copious collection of designer handbags. Let’s not toss out the good stuff, we can continue that conversation any time you wish.
This time was different. Several months of disbelief that I had Alzheimer’s finally pushed me to BE HERE. I realized that I had different kind of purge to do, not possessions but experiences, “Life’s Laundry” After much family discussion and a medical green light from my doctors, I chose to meet with two Mayan healers, could they help me? The Mayan system of medicine is that all disease has a spiritual cause, an event in one’s life can trigger disease symptoms.
It was a leap of faith for someone who has never even gone so far as having my palm read. I didn’t expect a cure, nor did I get one. In the circumstances I got something better, I listened. I learned. I followed their instructions and recommendations, I also asked a lot of questions. I’m still following up and yes, I do feel better now, lighter in my head, my outlook, and my ‘I can do this’, is now so strong that I am displaying the life I now have across the internet and in conferences as an Alzheimer’s Advocate to help myself and others with this disease.
Lastly, better because my healers got me to see that this “Life’s Laundry” I ‘m experiencing has a lot to do with my opening some of those locked boxes we all carry in our brains, those emotional toxins rattling around forever. I found myself literally starting to throw them away.
In the Mayan tradition, standing in moving water, holding a nine small stones as representatives of these pains, saying something to yourself an intention or prayer each time and throwing them away one at a time over the left shoulder, facing forward, never looking back. The water carries away what was released. The ceremony reminded me of a similarity for those who follow a system of writing a farewell letter that is to purge a negativity by sealing the letter and burn it in an open space. The ashes drift with the wind. Letting the past go.
I own my Alzheimer’s it does not own me
Kris Denkert Anderson