Patience …

Patience may be a virtue, but it is not something I’ve ever valued.  Well past my prime, and I still can’t figure out why everything takes so long.  But it does.  What I’ve learned is that one can either align with this time taking thing and glean from it, or else freak out.

The latter, I know much about.  This no thought, well-performed function has won me many a battle for well over a half life.  Or so it seemed. 

Several months into taking The Code CBD oil, I unwittingly started operating from a different neural pathway.  How do I know this? Well, I’ve been living inside my head for like I said, over a half life. One could argue semantics, but the true focal point is the actual experience. Which in my case has been the effortless change in my thoughts and actions, realizing and embracing the value of peace over constant war and/or the expectation thereof and not fearing the outcome regardless of the present situation.

And my personal favorite – not freaking out over how long everything is taking.

I’m finally able to recognize every pit stop, faux pas and other agonizingly ill-balanced situation as something I need to heal about myself.  As something that is happening for me and not to annoy and further allay me.

These ideas are not the genius of my own making.  As a matter of fact, when hearing such rhetoric in the past, I typically wanted to barf.  I don’t think my current and somewhat sudden ability to embrace this ideology is something that came with time or age, but rather attribute it to healing the war wounds in my brain which I consider a direct result of taking The Code CBD oil.

And this is only one of the reasons I never want to be without it.

PATIENCE + PEACE = A VERY GOOD THING

GRIEF

Like everyone else, I fell instantly in love upon meeting my sister’s new and absurdly cute puppy.

Ten years later, she was killed in a car wreck and I inherited him. 

For the next six years, he was the glue that kept me together so that I could slowly digest the loss of my sister.  He was there for me in ways I didn’t even realize until he was gone. 

When that day came, I felt myself fragment in ways unimaginable.  I still don’t have vocabulary for it.  However, I suddenly understood why people got sent to asylums, or else checked in voluntarily.

The next day, I went for a massage, however, the practitioner recommended an acupuncture treatment instead.  I would have agreed to a session in the electric chair, so of course, I said yes.

About 30 minutes into the session, I felt myself lift from the depths of hell.  I was literally, suddenly and authentically OK.  By the time I made it home, I realized that my grief had shifted into gratitude.  I was able to accept the sadistic brevity of pet life, and just be grateful for the time I’d had with Skippy. 

I’ve since lost three cats, and had a grief healing after each death.  The sessions were with different practitioners, so all were unique, but equally as healing.  I highly recommend this modality for anyone who is dealing with grief because as most have ascertained, time does not heal all wounds.  It leaves cracks and holes and all kinds of horrible scarring. 

A grief healing is no misnomer.  It heals. 

More recently, I lost a human friend.  He wasn’t a close friend, but rather a NY icon I was lucky enough to have met, spend some time with, have a few laughs and check in with now and then.  At the time of his passing, he was 80 years old, had cancer and though we kept in touch, I hadn’t seen him in several years.

And yet, there was that feeling.  How do you even describe it?  It’s like your insides get scooped out and you suddenly forget how to breathe.  It’s so overwhelmingly, inescapably awful all you can do is wonder if it will ever go away.  Will it?  If you sit down and cry, will you ever get up?  How could losing such a distant person feel so life threatening?

This time around, I didn’t have access to an acupuncturist.  I didn’t even have the luxury of stopping to cry, or otherwise be with my feelings. 

Desperate for relief, I took a couple of drops of The Code CBD oil.  It’s called micro dosing – taking a minute amount which paradoxically produces an even more powerful affect.

Within minutes, I felt fine.  I knew my friend was no longer with me on this Earthwalk, but I was OK with it.  I felt sad when I saw postings of him on Facebook, but I didn’t feel like my lungs and intestines were going to collapse and disappear.

Grief is unique.  I can’t guarantee that either of these recommendations will work for everyone.  I do, however, strongly recommend both. 

If you are dealing with grief, past or present, I wish for you great peace and heart healing.