Status of the Healing

For months now, I have been working day and night, sleeping only when I can no longer stay awake. I have reduced everyday chores to what is absolutely necessary. Almost everything else has been devoted to working, building and creating.

And I am happy that I did.

So much has been accomplished. Gaps have been filled, opportunities created, and things built that people may now hold on to, learn from and benefit from. Things that did not exist before are now available to others.

But somewhere along the way, I also need to stop for a moment and ask myself: How is my own healing progressing?

I have been given a few glimpses of healing again. A few flights, a few visions, moments in which I felt able to observe my recovery from a different perspective.

They offered me a sense of how far I have come, what remains unresolved, and what might become possible next.

And what do I see?

I see healing beginning to return. Not necessarily as something completed, but as a process that is becoming visible to me again.

Some of these experiences have left me reflecting on the world around me, particularly on systems that have become so deeply entrenched that they seem to operate almost automatically.

Rules, habits, procedures and rewards repeated for years can shape the way people think and act. Their routines become familiar, their responses habitual, and eventually even the rewards associated with those routines can reinforce the same behaviour.

Money can become the central measure of whether something is worth continuing.

But what happens when the world changes and those routines no longer serve their original purpose?

One image stayed with me.

The world has changed. The road has shifted. Yet some governments continue running straight ahead, as though nothing has happened.

Perhaps they have been following the same path for so long that they no longer notice the difference.

Years of repetition, conditioning and reinforcement may have shaped their neural pathways, turning learned behaviours into deeply ingrained, almost automatic responses. The brain's reward systems can further reinforce these patterns, making familiar actions feel natural, justified or even satisfying.

Some of these routines may belong to governments, institutions or organizations. Their work is funded by people, yet the value being returned may have diminished or disappeared.

And that distinction matters.

If a system continues consuming resources without producing meaningful benefits, its survival can become an expense carried by everyone else.

People work, contribute and sacrifice their time. Meanwhile, the systems meant to serve them may continue operating largely to sustain themselves.

Generations can lose opportunities. Years of human potential can disappear into unnecessary complications, inefficiencies and routines that nobody seriously questions anymore.

And yet everything can appear successful to those receiving the rewards.

A celebration here, another public event there, the familiar appearance of progress.

But what has actually improved?

Some countries seem better at adapting, investing in people, removing unnecessary obstacles and creating prosperity through real value.

That, to me, is the direction worth pursuing. A country should benefit because its people are becoming healthier, more capable, more educated and more prosperous—not because its systems have become exceptionally good at extracting resources from them.

I have also been thinking about something more troubling.

What happens when a person becomes accustomed to receiving rewards from behaviour that harms others?

Repeated incentives can shape habits and perceptions. Eventually, someone may regard a harmful action as perfectly normal because it has always brought them personal benefit.

They see green numbers appearing in their account.

But those same actions may leave red numbers everywhere else.

And when a system rewards the continuation of harm or inefficiency, even necessary changes may be resisted.

The difficulty is not always a lack of intelligence. Sometimes it is an unwillingness to question a familiar source of income, status or comfort.

I cannot know every institution motives, and I do not want to assume that everyone within a failing system is acting maliciously. Nevertheless, I think the danger of rewarding harmful outcomes deserves serious attention.

There are real lives behind these decisions.

People. Children. Families. Entire generations.

Their time cannot simply be restored.

I think these reflections have also helped me understand something about my own boundaries.

I cannot spend my life trying to fight or repair every institution.

I am not a person directing a country.

And even where I can see possibilities for improvement, offering help does not mean that help will be welcomed or used responsibly.

Some changes require people and institutions to be willing to change themselves.

I cannot force that willingness.

Perhaps I need to accept this and keep my distance from struggles that would consume the energy I have.

There is another reality I cannot ignore.

My time is limited. My energy is limited.

I still need to earn a living.

And my own healing matters.

I have given nearly everything I can to creating useful things for others, but I cannot continue indefinitely without the food, equipment, stability and rest necessary to sustain that work.

These are not luxuries. They are practical necessities.

Perhaps part of my recovery is learning that I do not have to carry everything alone.

Perhaps someone farther away, beyond the routines and difficulties I have encountered, might be willing to help place food on the table and provide the equipment and stability needed to continue.

Not simply as charity, but as support for work that might eventually benefit many others.

During these reflections, memories returned of organizations and initiatives interested in developing different approaches to energy work and healing.

And I found myself considering something that feels much more grounded now.

What if the next step were an actual meeting?

A physical handshake.

A conversation between people from different countries, brought together by common goals.

Not an arrangement in which one side gains everything, but cooperation in which everyone has something meaningful to gain.

The greatest benefit would not necessarily be financial.

It could be improvements in people's lives, new abilities, better well-being, opportunities they had never imagined, and a future that becomes more open than it was before.

These ideas represent a lifetime of personal exploration for me, stretching from early childhood to the work I was doing yesterday.

I have written about my experiences and about accounts from people who reported benefits. I did not write them as jokes or fictional stories. They were sincere attempts to describe what I experienced and what others told me they experienced.

But how do I make the next step happen?

Perhaps I should simply invite people to explore the ideas for themselves.

Or perhaps I should remain open to the possibility of someone discovering and understanding my work, recognizing its potential, and choosing to approach me on their own, without needing an invitation.

Not demand belief. Not ask anyone to accept conclusions without examination.

Just offer an opportunity to observe, ask questions, try an approach willingly and evaluate what actually happens.

A first demonstration or exploratory version might be possible even now, with the right person and circumstances.

Something direct, understandable and human.

An experience that can be discussed and examined, with its benefits and limitations acknowledged honestly.

Like a handshake, or the simple sensation of human touch against the skin.

Sometimes a direct experience can encourage a person to reconsider what they thought was possible.

Perhaps that is where cooperation begins.

I would prefer this work to develop through cooperation between people and organizations from different countries.

A single-sided arrangement might not be ideal for everyone involved.

With broader participation, different perspectives could contribute to understanding what works, what does not, and what deserves further development.

People could observe together, compare experiences and help shape the direction responsibly.

If there is something genuinely useful here, it should be explored carefully and made beneficial to as many people as possible.

I also recognize that I would need to change.

My own neurology, habits and expectations have been shaped by years of experience. New possibilities would require me to adapt as well.

And that kind of change can be overwhelming.

I may need reassurance, patience, kindness and probably quite a few hugs along the way.

There is something comforting about imagining that.

Not having to remain strong every second.

Being allowed to feel safe while learning how to live differently.

So, how is my healing?

I feel that something is returning.

There is still exhaustion. There are still practical difficulties, uncertainty and a great deal of work ahead.

I cannot honestly call the recovery complete.

But I can recognize that my perspective is changing. I am beginning to think again about possibilities beyond simply enduring the present.

I want to create, cooperate, explore and help.

I want the work of my lifetime to become useful in ways that can be experienced, examined and shared.

I want to live long, and well, to see what might grow from it.

And perhaps most importantly, I am beginning to recognize that my life must be part of the future I am trying to create.

I still need food, stability, recovery, companionship and the freedom to discover what comes next.

Maybe the next step is not another enormous struggle.

Maybe it is a conversation, a meeting, a handshake, an opportunity to cooperate.

Maybe it begins with someone simply being willing to listen.

And maybe I need to give myself some of the same care that I have spent so much of my life trying to offer others.

For now, these are my reflections.