I hadn’t been to a conventional doctor in at least 30 years when I decided to use my insurance plan to have a small, painless lump on my neck checked. I just wanted a ‘diagnosis’ to determine the best way to treat it. So I made an appointment with a head, neck, and ear surgeon.
Two weeks later, as I was filling out the required paperwork at his office, I realized I was entering a world I once knew that now was completely alien. Things around the big waiting room—the posters, notices, and brochures—were highly impersonal and smelled like fear and money. They spoke of pathology, possible diseases hiding in the dark, and making sure you paid for services.
An elderly couple started bickering about something and then the woman turned to me complaining about a parenting magazine lying on a table. “What is this, a pediatrician’s office?” Everyone else was fixated on their cell phones, as is so common nowadays. I just kept observing the environment, grateful that I didn’t have to be in a place like this often.
I was taken across an even bigger area that looked like a clinic or small hospital in itself, with rooms lined up on one side. I followed a young woman to a room where one of those clinical chairs was waiting for me; she took my blood pressure and asked a few general questions before leaving me alone for a few minutes. A short, slim doctor wearing sea foam green scrubs, black Dansko clogs, and a surgeon’s cap walked in. He had piercing eyes, but I immediately sensed unresolved anger that gave him an arrogant flair.
Without introducing himself, he asked where the lump was, then touched it and explained it was a parotid tumor and he needed to do a biopsy to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. As soon as I agreed he left the room and his assistant came back with a form waiving all responsibility for the procedure. I inquired about a paragraph stating I had received information I was never given, and she simply replied, “It’s just a standard form.” “I understand that,” I said, “but what does this refer to?” “It’s just a standard form,” she repeated. I sensed she meant you either sign it or get out. So I signed.
The surgeon first numbed the area with a shot and shortly after pocked me again to suck up some tissue. He then mixed it with a red liquid, gave it to the young woman, and said he would give me a call when the results came in. Most parotid tumors are benign, he assured, but if it was cancerous it would have to be immediately removed or else I would DIE (he raised his voice when he stated this). The whole thing took about 10 minutes.
Choosing Love Over Fear
The next morning I woke up with a lump twice the size, all around bruised, hard and tender, and shooting pains throughout my head. I felt sick as if I had the flu or some kind of infection. Since it was the weekend, I just took it easy and treated my symptoms with homeopathy. Within a couple days the pain and inflammation subsided, and I felt ready to treat the tumor with a holistic, constitutional approach.
When they called me with the results and to schedule another appointment to “discuss treatment” (meaning, schedule a surgery), I mentioned the inflammation and pain I endured, saying I wasn’t interested in seeing the doctor again. The woman on the phone sounded alarmed, “Why didn’t you call us right away?” Good question. Why didn’t I play that game, so they would make more money while I held the illusion of being helped? Well, she wouldn’t understand that I stopped being a willing guinea pig for the chemical and pharmaceutical industries a long time ago.
Instead I visited my homeopath (we all have blind spots, so I wasn’t going to treat myself) and we agreed on the appropriate remedy. The tumor has been consistently shrinking since. But the experience reminded me of what we are always faced with: the choice between love and fear—or self-empowerment versus codependency. Also, how this excessively masculine, power-based world works and is in dire need of the Divine Feminine you and I can help restore.
Regardless of how useful a biopsy can be, my body’s reaction was showing that there was something forceful about it, as bullish as an environment pushing fear and the illusion of power given to a guy in scrubs (although they often come in white gowns) who thinks he knows what’s going on or how to fix something he doesn’t really understand. Not because he’s not knowledgeable about anatomy and physiology, or how to cut a body, but because he remains blind to the underlying divine intelligence that, well, creates and animates everything.
Our masculine world is overly attached to the physical senses and the material aspects of life. But you don’t have to be. You can choose a more spiritual approach to what you think and what you do, and where you invest your energy, time, and money. And you can restore the balance of the Feminine and Masculine within to shape a healthier individual reality and in time, also effect a different perception of life in the collective mind.
This is how the subtle revolution of the spirit we’re now bringing forth expands. So contact me today to establish a more harmonious integration of body and soul, and live a happy, healthy, and empowered life!
© 2015 Yol Swan. All rights reserved.