I’m having a blissfully quiet day at home, working on my teaching schedule for next year and writing up workshop summaries. I have plenty of coffee, a comfortable place to work where I can keep my poor swollen foot elevated, and nowhere to be. There is sunlight streaming in the windows and I am still in my jammies. There are all sorts of things I could be doing today, but I’m choosing to be still.
This sweet woman may have been responsible for changing my life. Her name is Judy, and she is also responsible for my newfound passion for Keum Boo. During the Metal Retreat, when my feet were swelling and I was so uncomfortable, she would spend 20 minutes at a time with me just rubbing and massaging my feet, talking sweetly and calmly about various things. I love Judy – I felt completely and utterly safe with her, and her tender care for me was very moving.
One afternoon, she explained some of the concepts of accupressure and how the feet have “contact points” with almost every other area of the body. She told me a story about a woman whose feet she massaged, and how she knew almost as soon as she took the woman’s feet in her hands that she was gravely ill. The woman died some months later of untreated cancer.
So of course I asked her if she could feel any disease in my feet.She leaned forward and patted my leg reassuringly. “Oh no, honey,” she said. “Just neglect.”
My heart was pierced.
That moment has been underscored by my body’s unwillingness to really recover from the long trip since I got home last week. My left foot is still badly swollen, and the testing says there’s nothing life-threatening going on. Now it may have developed an infection, so I’m on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, and I’m supposed to stay off it. Like any system where maintenance has been deferred, my body is no longer working effectively and is breaking down. It’s a wake-up call.
Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants.
Ephesians 5:17 (The Message)