The Wound

Do you see it?  Its that little black dot at the base of Guadalupe's throat.

My friend instructed us to paint a "wound" into the painting for Blessed Mother to heal.

My wound is around food.

I have a bit of warrior archetypal energy in my make up, which may surprise people who know me in my role as "healer".  But I think the two often exist within the same body.  For me it often manifests as someone who fights for a cause.  Someone who wants to change the status quo. 

And so I have moved into the role of food activist in the last 20 years.

Knowing too much about our food supply has taken the joy out of eating.

Shopping becomes an exercise in restraint and denial rather than a fun modern version of hunter/gathering.

Is it organic?  fair trade?  packaged in plastic?  locally or sustainably produced? are some of the questions which haunt me whenever I go grocery shopping.

When I painted this picture of Guadalupe on her feast day, the "wound" I added was my anger that I have lost my innocence around food, and in that moment, I longed to return to the days of my childhood, when food was simply enjoyable and I didn't worry about where it came from and at what cost.

Today Blessed Mother helped me to begin healing that wound.  I made a trip to a healer I know in Portland and she saw that wound very clearly within me.  My heart smiled as she described what she was observing, because I had been getting previews of this conversation for the last 24 hours and I knew exactly what she was talking about.  What a relief that she saw the wound and that she could use her conscious observation to get my body to release this crazy paradigm that had taken hold of my metabolism, manifesting in food allergies.

So thank you to Sid Snider of Synergy Wellness in Portland OR, my friend and painting instructor Rebbeckah, and most of all to Blessed Mother for carrying my wound, and being the catalyst for my healing.

Ave Maria