Healing is the bridge between being sick and being healthy. This bridge is crossed everyday, naturally, as we sleep and recover. But the speed of the body's natural healing mechanisms often times need a little nudge, a little help, and sometimes a little love.
When I was a sick child my mother had the best cure. I will give you a clue--it wasn't from the medicine cabinet. My mother would pour Sprite over orange sherbet in a bowl. I remember the floating sherbet dissolving into an ocean of fizz. I would spoon chunks away from the shrinking island of sweet, healing goodness, until I was left with a smoothie to gulp. And sure enough, not soon after, I would be sitting up, feeling much better. Sometimes all you need is a mother's love, a child's faith, and a little sugar.
Healing isn't always about reducing inflammation or lowering a fever. And getting sick isn't always about catching something. My uncle always said that you only got sick when your body decided to slow you down. The choice to be healthy is in your hands first, and if you fail, your body makes the decision for you. Stop. No More. You are grounded.
In Kentucky we didn't define things with terms or have academic conversations about the immune system. Most of our reality of health came from our talk of the spirit. We left all outcomes in the hands of fate. It was our job to always give our best and have good faith in whatever future lay ahead.
Of course, there is a real place for medicine in our fate. We can't be completely ignorant of the advances in medicine and its relation to our longevity. But neither can we ignore the healing cultures we grew up with. We can't forget our orange sherbet miracles.
