A Failure of Courage

When I married a second time, it was with reluctance. I didn’t really want to follow my first marriage with another so quickly. In the first, I was married from 1972 to the divorce in 1981. I met my second wife in 1979 and we moved in together shortly thereafter. Although I proposed marriage in late 1980, I was not yet even divorced. Our wedding date was to be in 1981 and we even sent out invitations. These all had to be called back when I averred, saying I wanted more time than just six months from the divorce decree to new wedding vows. I caused much embarrassment and expense for this family though they stuck by us during this upheaval. We finally married in 1982.

This was a way stop on the path that led to my suffering diabetes and prostate cancer. After two years of study and reflection, I have determined the sources of these two maladies as something else rather than any environmental or genetic issues.

I am of the belief now that disease is easily explainable in terms of one’s internal emotional state rather than pointing elsewhere. As startling as this seems—that it’s our fault and responsibility that we get sick—an open examination of our emotions and our body parts, their functions and any detrimental actions on their part clearly shows just how much we control our destiny and health by how we feel about ourselves.

In my case, and I think in the case of anyone suffering from anything but, say, the effects of an accident, it is a failure of courage that put me squarely where I am today—laboring under the “double deadlies,” diabetes and prostate cancer. In sharing what I believe I failed to do, what I felt about myself and others, I may do more than just tell my story, I may strike a chord in somebody else.

If my thoughts run true, then it is a failure of courage that purposely got me sick. Since I failed to raise my courage, described as “grace under pressure,” while facing my life circumstances, then what I propose is that I actually got sick on purpose. I deigned it, desired it, designed it and felt deserving of it even though I denied having any logical reason for catastrophic illnesses to envelope me. If I’m right about how all this happened to me, maybe my example serves others.

I used to think that helping just one person to get better was ridiculous. Why put so much effort into an enterprise if not to serve many? Now I understand that in the grand scheme of things, just the intent to help someone else is really enough to reap great rewards. The universe sees the intent as a positive energy release and much comes back to the sender. More about that some other time but for now, I see my effort as much like a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon yet, causing a major weather shift off the coast of Maine. These word-shaped thoughts issued from a small room on an island in the middle of the Pacific may well cause a thought shift of immense proportions somewhere else. If I can clearly define what has caused these illnesses to descend on me, then surely there is a way back to optimum health for me. As well, if there are parallels in the dear readers' lives, then perhaps I will have served my true purpose on earth: helping others heal themselves naturally and do so without extraordinary outside measures.

To start, I’ll break this treatise into parts. I’ll cover my childhood and early adulthood to my second marriage. The next part will be the effects of that second marriage. If there is a finale, I will wrap up my thoughts there.

I think this process will take several issues. It’s not that I’m a slow writer. I’m a careful writer these days, editing as best I can. Too, distilling my thinking about the emotional causes of my illnesses will require some letting go and a willingness to share some fairly deep, personal issues. I may stare at the PC screen for long periods deciding what is appropriate or better yet, how to say what I want to say.

I’ll be back soon with more of “Brittleliquid’s Journey.”