Allergies were always foreign to me. I had been around others who couldn't function without some form of antihistamine -- or even function while medicated, should the meteorological and environmental conditions conspire so conveniently. Mid-March of this year introduced me to a supremely slow-burn (foreshadowing pun) of an extended allergic reaction – sans allergies – which is presently nearly defeated but obstinately hanging on for dear life even as I write this in June. I understand now. The most trying situations are often the most memorable to facilitate experience for future benefit. Do you tend to remember major car accidents or innocuous parking tickets instead?
The initial evidence suggesting that this was no ordinary condition was the uncanny symmetry and calculated method with which it developed. Like an anatomical overlay depicting where your muscles align to skeleton, the rash formed perfectly along my spine and abdominal center before spreading outward towards the sides with equal intensity and location. One patch formed behind my left shoulder in a seemingly random area. Lo and behold, the right reflected this proliferation equally as if someone held up a mirror. The rash development continued in such a piecemeal systematic fashion, ultimately spreading all over my body, but thankfully less intensely on my visible face and head area (presumably due to lacking sufficient flesh there to support such an altered skin state). This Twilight Zone episode was not fiction.
I wish I could say the effects were purely cosmetic. Itching was pervasive and merciless, like a tyrannical dictator hell-bent on power at any cost. You may distance yourself from a sickly spouse, but how do you escape your own skin? (You're welcome to consider that question as a double entendre in addition.) Suppose you feel miserable without a daily shower. Suppose you can no longer do so at the consequence of further irritating the rash despite employing natural hippie products without chemicals. Suppose you enjoy pleasantly warm showers. You must now switch to cold temperatures at all times, whether washing or not, because warmth of any kind exacerbates the condition. Allow me to repeat “warmth of any kind” when it's barely Spring – in calendar terms anyway – on the stormy Northwest Oregon coast where this sensitive author resides. I discovered this infuriating truth while simply lying in bed. If lying on your back and the “delightful skin plague” exists in that area, your back warms and … you get the idea. Burning. Itching. Crawling. Subjecting your skin to near hypothermia becomes an unlikely ally -- at least as far as stemming the tide even somewhat is concerned. Avoid contact with the sun as well. I wear all black clothing and enjoy macabre musical tastes. Thankfully, limiting sun exposure was one facet of living which demanded scant compromise.
The merciless itching and skin-crawling sensations continued. You know how scratching an occasional itch can be obscenely satisfying? Forget about it. After flirting under duress with schemes to have all my nerve endings surgically removed and somewhat altering my bathing, sleeping, and honestly most habits of existing in general, I reluctantly made the plunge to consult a physician, which became several physicians, who were unable to conclusively determine the cause. My relationship with traditional medical science on the whole has been historically tenuous, suffice it to say. Medication “A” was supposed to cure this but failed. Medication “B” seemed more hardcore and regimented but failed. Medication “C” helped somewhat but clearly this was no ordinary reaction. Topical cream was highly uncomfortable with its efficacy inconclusive. I considered every possibility that I contracted a purely physical allergic reaction. I considered again then reconsidered some more. After some analytical study combined with irreplaceable intuition, I deduced this to be of spiritual causes. Ailments stemming from such metaphysical origins may need to run their course until the proper energy is released or exercised. My body had some catching up to do, thanks to the recklessly intrepid rate with which I sought soul growth leading up to the onset of “the event.”
This is truly an abridged account of my challenging adventure with this skin condition. At first I consoled myself by proudly wearing this manifestation as some perverse battle scar due to the spiritual shifts occurring within. I've since coined my own phrase “spiritual elitism” inspired by Chogyam Trungpa's Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism. I was guilty of negligence with a side order of pretense, feeling ashamed as a result since I never want to associate myself with those qualities. I've gleaned from multiple sources and spiritual leaders how “light workers” or other such metaphysical seekers traditionally shunned the physical body, focusing purely on the more abstract soul self. This rejection is not a good idea. Progress really happens when the mind, soul self, and physical self are on a level playing field, a la Ayurveda. Discordance can manifest itself in a variety of unpleasant avenues depending on the individual. Perhaps yours may not unfold to the extent of mine. There is really no reliable way to determine as each individual's body is constituted differently, and therefore may respond differently to any condition or environment. Others may happily slurp caffeinated beverages ad nauseum, but my body, meanwhile, responds violently to caffeine. Different strokes, different folks.
So, why am I sharing all this? Mind your extraordinary physical bodies. Treat them with the same loving care and patience you might devote to your soul work or any other area of your life. You don't have to wait for a cataclysmic event either. You can shower love, kindness, and appreciation on your body at any time regardless of what mass media, fear-based shallow marketing, or “beauty” product advertisements might suspiciously implore.
Peace, love, and space to you all.
