Last Friday, I drove my son down to La Jolla (across the street from UC San Diego!) to see pediatric hypnotherapist and pulmonologist, Dr. Ran D. Anbar, MD, FAAP of Center Point Medicine. My son struggles with migraines (greatly improved with recent medication regime), depression, anxiety, eczema, and frequent school absences due to illnesses.
According to Dr. Anbar’s brochure:
Children who use hypnosis:
Become empowered to help themselves when they feel poorly, and are proud of themselves for being able to do so.
Feel better about themselves and their medical condition because they can help take control of how they feel.
Become aware of their inner strength that allows them to cope more effectively with all aspects of their lives.
My mother used hypnotherapy to help her battle non-Hodgkins lymphoma (along with chemotherapy and monoclonal antibody therapy). Hypnotherapy enabled her to feel more in control, and lessened her pain and anxiety. My father quit smoking using hypnotherapy. I’ve used self-hypnosis (all hypnosis is self-hypnosis) to perform well on exams (I studied, too).
Hoping that self-hypnosis will give my son a tool, an effective coping mechanism, not just for somatic illnesses that respond well to hypnosis, but for life. Somatic illnesses are not “just” in the mind. The mind and the body are connected.
Prayer, meditation and self-hypnosis all help body, mind, and soul.
“Everything’s gonna be okay.
(Except when it’s not.)
((Except that’s okay, too.))”
I think it is human nature to ascribe or find meaning to events in our lives. Sometimes platitudes makes us feel better. Sometimes worse.
My Invented Platitude
Nothing is always true, except when it is.
The Platitudes I Use Regularly
You are loved.
You are worthy of love.
You are not alone.
Yet, at the same time, I can feel both so very alone and so very much a part of everything.
Which leads me to…
Another Invented Platitude
We are both alone and connected.
Even as I share my thoughts and feelings through words, I protect a part of myself, and do not let anyone completely in. No one really knows what it feels like to be me, but when I find others who seem to understand, something magic happens. I feel loved, supported, accepted. That feels good. That is what we do, what we can do, what we should do, for one another.
She closed her eyes. She paused. She took a deep breath, paused, meditated, waited to see where it would take her, where she would go, what she would feel.
She felt a great deep pain, a yearning, a desperate yearning, a deep desperate yearning. Just that afternoon she was thinking, daydreaming, imagining herself pontificating, preaching, orating, explaining that she knew, that she could feel that we are all connected and all a part of something bigger, something so huge, yet so small, that even an electron had purpose.
Now how had she gotten there? She spoke of purpose. Of how each of us no matter how small, even a single electron, has purpose for it is part of the greater whole.
And now she, a part, a supposed part, a supposedly purposeful part of this greater whole, she yearned communion with this other. She felt apart from it. She yearned it.