Like sea water they aid healing

Today my son, Daniel went swimming off the coast near our flat in Malta.  I watched frankly worried from the shore.  I dislike big waves when swimming.  Instead of feeling you are deciding your direction and pace in the water a greater force dictates, unseen with considerable power.  I wonder is it the lack of control or lack of power over this medium that disturbs.  My son has no such qualms and will do his swim sun, rain or hail.  After a day working indoors he is longing for the freedom of the waves and sea.  For many, the daily swim almost acts as a form of necessary therapy for body, spirit and mind.  There may be even some anecdotal evidence for this.

It is said, “Navy SEALS even say that if they have a scrape or cut, they know that being in the sea water will clean them up and speed up the healing process.”

Ancient Egyptians apparently, used salt water for stomach ulcers and external skin injuries.  Of course there is also Hippocrates from 460 BC – c. 370 BC who was a strong believer in salt water’s usefulness…

“Hippocrates, also known as Father of Medicine, concocted multiple cures using saltwater to heal cuts, scrapes, and even more serious skin injuries. He also used saltwater for internal problems, such as ulcers of the mouth or stomach. Hippocrates became interested in exploring the healing powers of saline after he observed how quickly fishermen’s hands and other minor skin injuries healed after exposure to seawater.”

“The Romans treated stomach ulcers and digestive problems with the solution by preparing drinks for their patients. They also made ointments to treat skin injuries, and had patients bathe in the solution to clear up skin diseases and combat itching and inflammation...effectively recommending saltwater as a primary medicinal for skin care and common skin problems.”

I don’t know if is true but I remember being told Alexander the Great urged his wounded solders to bath in the sea and dry in the sun to heal wounds.  Given these days were all long before antibiotics the sea was probably a reasonable option if you had an open wound, ripe for infection.

World War aircraft crash victims who went down in the sea strangely healed better than burn victims on land.  It is not just humans who have benefited from the magic of water treatments.  Hydrotherapy is used in veterinary clinics up and down the country where it allows animals, especially post operative, to strengthen muscles when weight bearing is too much.

Perhaps there is something deep in our psychic about being from the sea originally?  After all, our ancestors crept ashore millions of years ago before evolving into land animals.  Who knows, but I do love water enough to feel genuinely horrified when adults announce they cannot swim.  It feels so unfair that they have missed out on this delightful therapeutic experience.

My son is talking to a Greek man on the rocks with his two small daughters playing at his side.  All my sons speak Greek with a distinctive Rhodes island twang, as they were brought up there, and it is a very strong dialect indeed.   The man seems overjoyed to find a native Greek speaker on a Maltese shore so far from home and they rattle away their own language.  

He tells Daniel all about his life.  Working in a small family owned business for decades.  Of how he met and married a tourist. Then he spoke of the dreadful economic situation in Greece at present that saw him lose his business and turn his home into a liability rather than an asset.  Of his separation from his wife.  Then he holds up his hands asking,

“What did I do wrong?  I couldn't have worked any harder. I never cheated anyone.  I love my family more than my life!”

He stops and stares at the sea shaking his head at the mystery of it all.  Then he continues,

“It's wreaking even village life in Greece, everyone is having to leave to work abroad, to earn money.  Only the old are left, alone.  It is all changing.”

He describes in fast Greek, how he works in Germany and Malta, wherever a job comes up.  Desperate to make progress but aware that he is barely afloat financially these days.  He says. 

“  I had my own business in Greece and was good at it.  I made something good of my life.  I did, I really did.”

Then he turns his palms heavenward and explains,

“Now, I try and get hotel jobs, any jobs.  Just any work to support my family.  I’m not giving up, but I do want to understand what happened.”

They talk for an hour of politics, world affairs, Greek village life (which they both adore) football and even Greek history and language.  His two small daughters, half German and half Greek, speak perfect Greek and tell Daniel stories they know by heart.  The tales of heroes and villains and great deeds from Greek mythology, as their father smiles proudly.

Then as they part Kostas, hugs Daniel to his chest as you would a dear brother and wishes both of us well.  There is a sweetness about Greeks that takes the breath away when they open their heart to you.  Even in their pain, you somehow gain.  Like sea water they aid healing.

Things that should never have happened and the lessons learned

1. A certain brother of mine who at age 18 got a certain part of his anatomy caught in his zip and the end of the saga involved a trip to hospital and eight nurses working to free him from those mechanical torture implements.

LESSON 1 "sometimes the biggest dangers are the closest"

2. Me trying to retrieve a ball blowing out to see at the beach.  Was worried my sons would swim out too far, so threw on swimsuit (bikini) and swam quickly after it.  Returned to the shore and walked up the beach wondering why the bikinis bottoms which were red suddenly looked black.  Had put my leg in the waist bit and was exposing my nether regions!

 LESSON 2 "Beware of hasty decisions that bring about untold humiliation"

3. My Dad on being told to put on a robe back to front in the cubicle at hospital,  didn't see the paper folded gown, and clambered into a pink dressing gown hanging behind the door and carefully put it on backwards as instructed. 

 LESSON 3 "Don't just follow directions, think things through"

4. Our neighbourhood dog would chase cats all day.  But there were two who refused to run.  Jack would run full pelt and then spotting they were not running would rapidly change direction at the last moment and pretend he was racing to pee against a car wheel.  His embarrassment was tangible.  Unfortunately, his eyesight was not good and he could not distinguish the runners from the fighters until he got really close.

LESSON 4 "When humiliation beckons fools cover it up by being busy"

  

5. I had a dog Chance who has appeared in three documentaries in N. Ireland.  All involved rough estates in Ballymena, Larne and Coleraine.  the TV crews obviously thought he, with his half chopped tail and mongrel look, was exactly the backdrop they wanted in their exposé of down and out places.

  

LESSON 5 "Sometimes you are just what the world is after!"

6. When my son was a baby having his hips checked by a doctor he peed and the doctor backed away and managed to avoid being soaked.  He turned to me and smiled saying, “He nearly got me then!”  At which point the baby did the most incredible runny poo which shot out jet like and covered the whole front of the doctor’s white pristine coat.

LESSON 6  "The young have unexpected capacity"

7. There is a toilet in the library in Coleraine in N. Ireland that has a handle that you pull up to lock.  Unfortunately, the handle only appears to lock on occasions and I have two friends who once seated and about their business found the door swinging open to an entire library full of appalled people.

LESSON 7 "Just when you thing life can't get any worse, it does"

The business that kills 5.4 million people a year and earns governments $200 billion a year

I had a friend who smoked.  She had two small children and was married to a nice chap called Timothy.  Nothing surprising about that you may be thinking.  Her young son David suffered from asthma and his inhalers were a part of his life.  

It was hard to see someone young struggle for breath and when asthma sufferers do not keep a control of their condition, things turn life threatening.  Hard enough to be disciplined when you are an adult but for young children it becomes trickier still.  Then, David had an accident and fell off his bicycle and ended up in hospital for many weeks as it was a compound fracture.  Julie, his mother travelled to every visiting time and took sweets, changes of pyjamas, toys and of course his asthma medication.  On the second week the nurse in David’s ward told her not to bring the asthma medication in, as he did not need it.  Perplexed Julie explained, “But he takes it every morning and evening!”  The nurse assured her that David had not used an inhaler since he arrived in hospital two weeks earlier and had been fine with not one single asthma attack.    Julie was stunned and the nurse asked a surprising question. “Do you smoke?”  Julie replied that she did, to which the nurse responded, “that is probably what is triggering his asthma, it is very common.”  Julie was stunned it had never occurred to her that she could be the cause of her son’s fight for breath.  When Daniel came home there was a sudden change, she no longer smoked in the house only in the garden.  After a few weeks it became only the kitchen.  In a month she was back to smoking in the house as before and David returned to his inhalers.  It amazes me how addictions can mean we sacrifice even our nearest and dearest to them. 

The smoking ban which came into force in public places in July 2007 has resulted already in 1,900 fewer emergency hospital admissions for asthma patients every year.  In other countries, where to the ban has been brought in both working and public environments the drop has been 40%. 

Dr Penny Woods, chief executive of the British Lung Foundation, added: "This is important new research that further demonstrates how the smoking ban has dramatically improved people's lives and made smokers more aware of the harm smoking does to their health.

"Nearly a third of a million GP appointments each year are caused by children who are the victims of passive smoking. These horrendous figures show the scale of the problem we are still facing.”

Emily Humphreys from the health charity, Asthma UK, has also welcomed the findings: "This is something we campaigned for, so it is particularly encouraging that there has been a fall in children's hospital admissions for asthma since its introduction.

"We have long known that smoking and second hand smoke are harmful - they not only trigger asthma attacks which put children in hospital but can even cause them to develop the condition."

I remember David with all his inhalers and breathlessness and think of all those tiny children fighting for breath due to passive smoking in homes throughout the world. 

But then, one has also to remember all those who die from the effects of smoking.  The World Health Organisation has brought out a report (The WHO Report on the Global Tobacco Epidemic) very critical of the lack of action by many countries in confronting smoking.   “The tobacco epidemic already kills 5.4 million people a year from lung cancer, heart disease and other illnesses,” said WHO Director-General Margaret Chan. “Unchecked, that number will increase to more than 8 million a year by 2030.”

The report also gives one clear explanation for the lack of action.  Nations worldwide collect more than $200 billion in tobacco taxes annually.  Killing people is obviously a profitable business and the very best business is built on addiction.  

Can I speak of my delight in your arrival

Welcome grandson

Into a world being rolled up

Can I speak of my delight in your arrival

It is impossible to describe

How the universe has changed

Because of your sweet appearance

I watch in awe your expressions

Tiny toes, fingers grasping

Sweetness of expression

Sound, fixed gaze

Inspecting this world

With huge dark eyes

As if looking to see something of worth out there

Moving fists to gain control of coordination in air

And lungs learn to control

the important inward movement of that life giving substance

whilst your digestive system masters the tender art of expelling

the same life force from both ends!

A masterful ability

One of many that you will need to perfect

Welcome little one

May you progress and develop each precious day

May you bring joy and radiance

To this weary world

As you have brought to my heart

Listening to my son

Welcome you to this big wide world

Was as epic

As the turning of the spheres

My heart laid bare and shaken

With new born love

I breathe in your presence

And have to shout my delight

Welcome grandson 

Am I too fat looking in these trousers?

Love the way small children play even at airports.  Sitting under dirty joined plastic chairs they chatter happily.  Delighted to be ordering each other around.  Captivated by this small-unexpected cave in the departure lounge.  They each have their own pink wheel-on cases covered in princesses and every now and then they get out from under the plastic seats and march up and down cases towed behind them as if a vital call has come.  

Their excitement is evident.  The call to board will come soon and they look eagerly around at others, “Is it time yet? Has the adventure begun?”  The rest of us aged ones yawn our boredom.  Or fret that our cases will not fit in Easy Jets little cage checking thing.  Clasping our precious passports and boarding cards firmly to our chests, we worry far too much to enjoy any of this.  Perhaps Easy Jet will fine us for too large a bag?  "They took my deoderant at security!"complained a sweaty man to my right, wiping his dripping forehead with a large grey hankechief.

His mate wonders if he’ll be able to finish his coffee before they start boarding?  Another woman asks her mate, am I too fat looking in these trousers?  

An elderly woman asks her pale faced and sickly husband if he thinks she will be chilly without a coat?  So many serious issues to keep on top of, and that is only the ones we’ve managed to remember.  Goodness knows what we’ve forgotten to pack, lock, defrost, or turn off!

The announcement to board is made and the two small girls have joined their parents in the long queue to the boarding gate.  They chatter in glee at things we no longer even see.  When you're young, laughter is ever present.  Like a happy background music.  A good game can dispel sombre thoughts in seconds.  A princess-pull on case is the perfect antidepressant for them.  They make funny faces at each other as they wheel the squeaky cases and roar with laughter.  For the rest of us, I wonder when did life become a thing of endurance instead of enjoyment?  At what age did it become too serious, this living business?  

Man's Search For Meaning

Celebrated Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl, was born on March 26, 1905 and remains best-known for his uplifting 1946 psychological memoir “Man’s Search for Meaning”— a meditation on what the gruesome experience of Auschwitz taught him about the primary purpose of life: the quest for meaning.  His wife died in the camp and he endured the unimaginable but managed somehow to convey magical moments in the midst of pain and loss that speak to the heart. 

Where can you run to?

With whom can you take refuge?

To whom will you look?

What country shall you live in?

In what direction shall you go?

At what hour shall you find rest?

What will become of you in the end?

To what will you be faithful?

If you find the truth will you be obedient to it?

“Woe to him who saw no more sense in his life, no aim, no purpose, and therefore no point in carrying on. He was soon lost. The typical reply with which such a man rejected all encouraging arguments was, “I have nothing to expect from life any more.” What sort of answer can one give to that?

What was really needed was a fundamental change in our attitude toward life. We had to learn ourselves and, furthermore, we had to teach the despairing men, that it did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us. We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life — daily and hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but in right action and in right conduct. Life ultimately means taking the responsibility to find the right answer to its problems and to fulfill the tasks which it constantly sets for each individual.”

Viktor Frankl

If the fire of the love of God is ignited in your heart

You would neither rest nor relax,

Nor be distracted or held back from divine nearness, sanctity and beauty.

Your longing soul would weep as one bereaved

Longing to determine the truth you would find no peace

Until, God lays bare the divine path before you.

“We were at work in a trench. The dawn was grey around us; grey was the sky above; grey the snow in the pale light of dawn; grey the rags in which my fellow prisoners were clad, and grey their faces. I was again conversing silently with my wife, or perhaps I was struggling to find the reason for my sufferings, my slow dying. In a last violent protest against the hopelessness of imminent death, I sensed my spirit piercing through the enveloping gloom. I felt it transcend that hopeless, meaningless world, and from somewhere I heard a victorious “Yes” in answer to my question of the existence of an ultimate purpose. At that moment a light was lit in a distant farmhouse, which stood on the horizon as if painted there, in the midst of the miserable grey of a dawning morning in Bavaria. 

“The light shineth in the darkness.”

For hours I stood hacking at the icy ground. The guard passed by, insulting me, and once again I communed with my beloved. More and more I felt that she was present, that she was with me; I had the feeling that I was able to touch her, able to stretch out my hand and grasp hers. The feeling was very strong: she was there. Then, at that very moment, a bird flew down silently and perched just in front of me, on the heap of soil which I had dug up from the ditch, and looked steadily at me.”

Viktor Frankl

PS Words in itallics are paraphrased from the Baha'i Writings

Heroes and Kittens

Was down town trying to keep up with my mother.  She sets a blistering pace with daily tasks to be achieved and an attitude to life that is productivity focussed.  Gardens, houses, clothes, bathrooms, cupboards, carpets, bills, financial papers read, letters to be written etc.  Boredom is not something she has ever experienced.  That is probably why she refuses to wait for anyone or anything.  Abundant with all sorts of virtues patience is not one of them.  Her name Emily means industrious and by name and nature she epitomises that word. 

So when I hear a small kitten crying I have to quickly draw her attention before she is miles ahead of me on the pavement.  Stopping, we both listen attentively – nothing but the normal traffic noises around us.  But when I make that wishwish sound, one does to cats, the kitten cries again loudly in response.  The sound is coming from under the bonnet of a red Fiesta parked with a disabled sticker on its window.  Tentatively approaching the vehicle we hear the piteous cry again.  It is definitely coming from under the bonnet of the empty car.  We peer under wheel arches, crouch down to look under the car but see nothing. 

A couple of ladies join us listening intently and, in response to the tiny fur balls squeals, agree that it “is a kitten stuck somewhere in the engine”.  Into this now growing crowd of well-wishers comes more people including the owner of the car.  She hands over her car keys, so one chap could pop the bonnet.  With that achieved most of us lean over the engine and peer into the innards of the car.  There deep down under spark plugs and hoses etc is a tiny fluffy kitten howling its distress and looking up hopefully at us.  First the man and then each of us tries to reach down past cables to pull the kitten us but to no avail. 

One stranger goes into a nearby supermarket and returns with a box of dried cat food to try and entice the kitten down to the ground from the engine frame.  This does not work and by now the crowd on the pavement and road has grown to a critical mass.  People are now flocking to the scene because there is a sufficient number of people to cause curious stares and interest.  All have their own ideas to share, “Shall I call the police?” “Whose is it?”, “There is a garage down the road!”, “How long has it been in there?”  Every newcomer is rapidly filled in by those in the know and all the while the piteous cry of the kitten urges action on us all. 

A tiny thin girl appears from the supermarket in her blue uniform with tattoos down each arm.  She leans forward and her matchstick arm does the impossible, she reaches down through the tiny convoluted spaces and pulls out the frightened kitten.  We are all relieved that a rescue has been engineered.  I look around at all the well-meaning faces and know that these people are those who could not walk past without expressing concern and taking action to help.  So many good souls on a pavement ridiculously pleased that with all the pain and loss in this world, a tiny furry kitten has been saved at least.  I suddenly wanted to celebrate the inherent unspoken goodness of all these strangers and savour this moment but my Mum is off.  No time to stand and stare, there are things to do, no wasting time she is off, an unstoppable force and I race to keep up.