This morning and afternoon I was supposed to attend a writing class I signed up and paid for last week. Alas, sick with the crud and feeling like a bag of ass, last night I emailed the organizer and said I wouldn’t make it. So I’ve spent the day in bed, sneezing and reading and saying, “God help me” over and over and over again. Now it’ 9:30 at night, and I’m propped up in the living room in order to blog, sipping tea, the inside of my shirt covered in snot. God help me.

One of the books I’ve been reading today (I’m always working on more than one at a time) is called What’s in Your Web? Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci. It’s about myofascial release (MFR), as taught by John F. Barnes, which I’ve been receiving recently from my myofascial release wizard (MFRW) and is changing my body and my life for the better. Specifically, the book is about how our fascia or connective tissue literally forms a web inside us that not only holds our bodies in space but also holds our mental and emotional memories. For anyone interested in the topic, I highly recommend it.

Maybe it’s just because I’m not feeling well, but something the book mentions that resonated with me is what’s called a Healing Crisis. Basically, it’s the idea that whenever you truly begin to heal, things are going to get worse before they get better. (This sucks, I know.) Why? Because you’ve poked the bear, disturbed ancient junk. Think of the way a dirty casserole dish initially gets dirtier and murkier when you first start running water into it. Ultimately the water is cleansing, but first it’s disturbing. So like, hang in there, Sweetheart, it just takes time.

Along these lines, apparently John F. Barnes says, “Healing is messy.” Amen. In my experience, it’s anything but a straight line, more like what happens when you poke a hole in a helium balloon and it goes flying every which way. One minute you’re up, the next minute you’re upside down. Or flat on your back. You think, This sucks. I’m getting nowhere. Even if you are. Even if you can’t see it.

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is how, if we’re really on our path, we’re led to where we need to go, to whom we need to meet. Used to I’d read books about people who had healed and think I had to do what they did, just the way they did. Alas, this always ended in frustration, since it’s impossible to take the exact healing route someone else has taken. Not only because working with their particular doctor or therapist, or eating their specific diet, would be unreasonable in terms of logistics and money, but also because what works for one person almost never works the exact same way for someone else. Because no two people have the same history or set of problems. Consequently, no two prescriptions for wellness can be the same.

More and more I’m learning to trust my path for me. I’m learning to trust that the professionals I’ve been led to and the books and information that fascinate me hold an important piece of my healing puzzle. Maybe not someone else’s healing puzzle–maybe, but maybe not–but my healing puzzle. Again, this whole process is messy. (Achoo!) It never happens as fast as you want it to. (Boo.) But it does happen. Over time, that which has been broken is put back together. That which has been shattered is mended.

God help us.