So, I don’t know, last summer or sometime I ended up with psoriasis on my right elbow. And whereas it wasn’t awful, it was irritating. So I did all the creams and potions, traditional and non-traditional, cleaned up my diet, and it went away. Honestly, for months I forgot about it. Then about a month ago, out of nowhere, well, out of my elbow, it came back. Damn it, I thought, then went to work with the same creams and potions. Alas, the problem has slowly but steadily gotten worse, despite all my try, try, trying to make it go away. Granted, the one thing I haven’t tried is cleaning up my diet.

Because, you know, peanut butter.

This being said, I have been fasting all day. This is something I was in the habit of doing once a week several months ago but let slip. I guess because I get myself into so many different “things” that it’s difficult to keep them all going. Sure, therapy has stuck. A number of things have stuck. But so many haven’t. I don’t know. I’m a technique sampler. So sue me. Anyway, there is something good about having tried so many techniques. It’s given my intuition a list of actions, things to do, to choose from. Which is why I’m back to fasting in the first place. For weeks my intuition and body have been saying, “Try that fasting deal again. We could use a break.” So I finally listened.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

This being said, I’m happy to report that even before I began my fast last night, the psoriasis on my elbow started noticeably improving. Who knows why? Granted, I have been trying all the things, but nothing new. Well, except for a very strange (so strange that I’m not going to go into it) energy-healing technique called two-pointing I read about in The Physics of Miracles: Tapping into the Field of Consciousness Potential by Richard Bartlett (a super out-there but fascinating and mind-bending read). So yeah, I did the strange thing. And stopped using my prescription steroid cream. But I’ve kept using my over-the-counter cream, vitamin E, and Himalayan salt water. Just like I was before. And no kidding. My elbow’s not itching as much, and my skin is smoother and less red. And whereas I could wake up tomorrow and things could be worse than ever, the point is I’m encouraged.

I’m hopeful.

Something I’ve been thinking about a lot the last two days, since I read it in The Physics of Miracles, is the question, “What if it were different?” It being my itchy elbow, the tightness in my neck, my finances, whatever. I can’t tell you how much I love this question. Not only because it allows for the possibility (however small or big) that things COULD CHANGE, but also because it doesn’t imply that I as the problem-haver have to come up with a solution. According to Bartlett, this possibility-allowing is a key ingredient in getting a problem to shift. That is, there has to be a change in perception (by you) that SOMETHING DIFFERENT, something BETTER, could, just possibly, come along. Because if you’re not WILLING to see something different, you simply won’t, even if it’s there.

Case in point: all the people who refuse to believe (and therefore see) that COVID-19 is to be taken seriously.

So many times in my life I’ve been discouraged thinking that whatever issues I was currently obsessed about couldn’t improve. And yet as I look back and think of the first day I went to therapy and the first time I tried any number of things, I realize that my trying was, in effect, my way of asking, “What if my life were different?” Granted, I haven’t always believed deep down that my life would improve for the better (mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually), but nonetheless I was hoping. Now, having seen lots of improvement in all the above-mentioned areas, I know it doesn’t take much hope to make a difference. Just enough to say, “Maybe, just maybe, things could turn around.”

Currently I’m applying this idea to my body, not just to my skin, but also to my tight muscles. Earlier today I went through a series of do-it-yourself myofascial stretches, which I guess is going to be my reality for the foreseeable future. (My myofascial release therapist, like the rest of the world, is on hiatus.) Anyway, I had some nice releases. Granted, all my problems didn’t–poof!–disappear like I wanted them to. But this is apparently the deal. Instantaneous miracles are possible, but more often than not they come in incremental doses. Meaning I’ll probably need to continue stretching for weeks or months before I really start noticing lasting changes. Ugh. This is how life (especially life currently) works. Things on earth take time. So if you’re not patient, you better get patient.

And if you can’t get patient, at least prepare yourself to get frustrated.

Whenever I find myself thinking, What if my life were different?, it’s amazing how quickly certain parts of me begin to shut down my hope for something better. I guess because I don’t want to be disappointed (again). But really, these parts of me (and I’ve come to realize they are only parts, not the whole of me), are real Debbie Downers. They say, “That’ll never work. Maybe other people can heal, but we can’t. We can’t afford to.” The “I can’t afford it” line is a favorite of mine, one I used to use all the time–and still often do–when I think something could be helpful for me. Well, the universe is ironic. Lately I’ve been getting fabulous treatment and results via EMDR and myofascial release, and–because I’m poor–my insurance pays for everything. Turns out I can’t afford it. And yet I can still do it.

Tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor.

Despite the wonderful turnarounds I’ve been experiencing recently, I still find myself doubting, thinking, Yeah, I’ve improved, but things can’t get even better. In fact, they’ll probably get worse. It’s that whole other shoe dropping thing. I catch myself wondering HOW things will improve, like I’ve gotta come up with all the answers. Despite the fact that everything good that’s come into my life has, yeah, involved me, but it’s also involved some sort of miracle. Some sort of extra help or “well, that worked out better than I planned.” So this is my encouragement to you if you dare to wonder, What if my life could be different? Don’t try to figure out the how. Or say it’s not possible. Because it’s a big universe. A huge universe full of possibilities and answers. A gigantic universe that cares about you and, yes, your problems. So just sit in this fact for a while. Anything can turn around. If you’re willing to see it (What if you were willing to see it?), the whole world is overflowing with miracles.