I'm writing this post to share my journey as a wounded healer, and to increase awareness of dyslexia and what to do about it. No healer or healing teacher is perfect, but the good ones are transparent about their issues. Here's one of mine...
I've always wanted to be a writer, a poet.
When I was little, my mom helped me make beautiful little blank books with wallpaper covers, and I coveted them. I skipped kindergarten because I could read and write, but in 1st grade I complained to my mom that the teacher was making me read stuff that was too easy. I was bored. Like a good mom, she indignantly called the teacher, but after a long conversation full of "I see"s, I was told I could go to the next book only when I could read the one I was in flawlessly. I never let a reading class get me in trouble again, whatever it took (which involved some lying later on...).
I have always loved poetry, however, the shape and taste of the words, the rollercoaster of movement and colors, the pictures and rhythms, the profound and delightful insights, the game of hidden meanings, and always, always a touch of God within each stack of lines. I spent many an hour in high school typing up my favorite poems to keep in a folder, reading them over and over, so delicious.
Except for poetry (which you are allowed to read slowly and repeatedly), most of the time reading has been a chore. It just takes a LOT of energy and focus. To read a book today, I have to be really, really motivated, and I rarely get past the first three chapters. I spent a lot of time reading in my childhood to escape, but I wasn't exactly speed reading, and often had drifted into a reverie with the book still propped up in front of me. In my 20s, I gave up on reading fiction because I'd get the characters mixed up, particularly useless in the mysteries I liked... (Though since I don't remember what I read, I could read the same mystery again 6 months later and not remember at all who did it, an infinite source of entertainment!)
In college, my grades 100% correlated with my attendance at lectures, since I barely did any reading (or homework for that matter). I remember one night before an econ exam when I actually cracked open the book in desperation, and just... could... not... get my eyes to make the squiggly rows into meaningful information to save my grades. Couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, must be really tired.
Life as an Editor
I actually worked as an editor in corporate marketing, producing 1- or 2-page financial reports and newsletters full of very short articles -- dry text with a limited vocab. I actually used to joke that if *I* could read it, it was good: easy to read, organized, clear and with great transitions. But I also found out pretty quickly as a freelancer that I could only bill for 1 hour when I worked 2 (so I doubled my prices -- oddly, I'm a very good editor, perhaps because I edit until the words "feel" right, like poetry). Once, however, I took on a 24-page white paper and was simply unable to edit it. I kept reorganizing it, like a 2x3 matrix that I kept flipping on the diagonal, first one way and then back again, rewriting all the segues. Eventually I had to hand it back undone, humiliated and wondering what was wrong with me that month.
I'm not stupid. I managed to graduate from an Ivy League university without reading much. The only thing hard about college was making myself show up at classes I didn't care about, which was most of 'em after the first three chapters.
What kept me confused was that once in a blue moon I could pick up a book and read FAST and EASILY. Usually I read out loud in my head, but sometimes I could zip along and understand as I went, without having to reread. Those rare moments of clarity and my tremendous practice of self-doubt made me question the slew of other times where reading took Herculean effort and I couldn't retain it anyway.
Still, for 42 years, I thought I was normal, just usually "too tired" to read, or "out of practice" from not reading enough as an adult. I had lots of excuses, and lots of ways to cope. Anything that came in the mail longer than one page went into my husband's mail pile. As an energy healer for a decade, I did work on my "reading issue", and definitely took the edge of it. I can 99% of the time find the correct next line now. I can spend much longer reading, and do get more comprehension than I used to.
The Turning Point
But in June of this year, I attended a spiritual event before which I promised myself and the Universe that I would finally step up and truly do what I'm REALLY here on the planet to do, for real. With that intention, I had an epiphany just before I left that I am indeed here to create and lead the Int'l Institute for Practitioners of Genuine Healing.
One of the things I'm here to do in that role, ironically, is to write a book for healers about our unusual spiritual journey. I started writing last January, and it's been tedious, painful, massively time-consuming, and exhausting. Don't get me wrong: it's also been the best thing I've ever done, ever. I poured out 120,000 words in three months last summer, but it's the organizing, breaking everything down into small-step logical sequences that's killing me. My original book is now a series of seven.
Two days after I came back in June, as I sat praying and feeling how I want nothing more than to share the amazing information I feel like has been 'downloaded' into me for healers, I watched as my hand opened a new window on my computer and retrieved an interview, which I'd listened to before. This time I listened with a different ear. I cried, and for the first time in my life I was ready to both truly admit that I might have dyslexia, and for the very first time, I wanted to get help from someone else to DO something about it.
Sometimes, the first step to healing an issue is simply to see it, to authentically recognize it for what it is. Like a child clenching a stinging wasp in a fist closed from fear and pain, in the simple action of opening to what we've been carrying around hidden from ourselves, we automatically begin to let it go.
Almost every detail in my life story above is typical of a dyslexic mind, as it turns out. By reading Ron Davis's book "The Gift of Dyslexia", I am coming to understand how my mind works, why I can read perfectly well on rare occasion, how I get off track reading, and how I can get myself back again. It has been astonishingly helpful, and I highly recommend this easy-to-read book if you have a dyslexic you love in your life.
I come from people who tend to say, "I don't need help," but tomorrow I have an appointment with a Ron Davis practitioner for an evaluation. I'll let you know how it goes.
To be continued....
Resources
~ If you'd like to hear the FREE interview with Ron Davis, born dyslexic and autistic, that helped me so much, go to Conscious Media Network, enter the site, and find Ron Davis in the list of interviews in the upper left corner dropdown menu.
~ Click on this link to order Ron's book "The Gift of Dyslexia" from amazon.com. I also highly recommend "The Gift of Learning", where he describes clearly and simply what's happening in the mind with ADD / ADHD and other learning issues, and how to help. Dyslexia is a GIFT, and in another post I'll tell you what it's gifted to me.
~ Visit Ron's website for details, a practitioner listing, and learning materials at dyslexia.com.
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