Overheard whilst strolling along a beautiful Bath back street today; “let me give you some marital advice”, said a young woman to her colleague/partner/lover/husband/brother/stranger she’d just met. “Never tell an angry woman to calm down”. That got me wondering what you are supposed to do when one’s better half starts going off; “that’s it Darling let it all out, go on really vent your spleen, I can take it”? I have a nasty feeling she probably would. Turn your back and walk away whistling? Might not fully resolve the situation. Imagine she’s the Queen and back away still facing her as you tell her how much you love her and it’ll all be ok in the morning? At least you’d see the saucepan coming. Get down on one knee and concede you’d been a complete pratt, she, as always is completely right and won’t she please forgive you? That might work, if you can summon up enough genuine humility. Or you could just say “calm down, woman, calm down, you’ll give yourself a hernia”…..then turn and run like hell.
I was in Bath on a brief overnight visit to see a “witch” who’s been keeping me vaguely erect and healthy for quite a few years now. She practises a form of chiropractic called Network Spinal Analysis (NSA), which is designed to train the body to self-manipulate and heal itself. It might sound like hocus pokus, but I am living proof that it works. Without it, I wouldn’t need to worry about flying saucepans, I’d be on a flying saucer up to Lalaland. It’s a technique that combines physical and emotional healing and it’s the emotional side that I’ve found particularly intriguing. I won’t go into all the details, but something happened to me as a young lad that I had put well to the back of my mind. During one session this whole escapade came out. It happened well over fifty years ago but suddenly I got an incredibly strong smell of the individual concerned. I had completely forgotten it and when I try to bring it back now, I can’t. But during that session it was unbelievably vivid, almost overpowering. Many people are now experiencing the extraordinary benefits of her methods and I can’t recommend it highly enough. Please look up Network Spinal Analysis on the internet and specifically Dr Thomasina Craster who runs Abundant Life at the Bath Practice.
I called her a witch. No doubt in mediaeval times she would’ve been consigned to the dunking chair, but she reminds me of another Lady who called herself ‘The Witch in the Tower’. I’m going back to the mid 1970’s when Major General Sir Digby Raeburn was the Governor of The Tower of London. His wife, Lady Addy Raeburn had extraordinary powers of healing that were just a natural gift. She had no idea why or how it worked, it just did. She would hold her hands close to whatever part of your body was injured and you would feel all sorts of heat and ‘pulses’ running through the area. I met them at the Inter Service Skiing Championships in Austria , where they were officiating, Lady Raeburn having been an Olympic skier for Britain before the Second World War. I had a particularly good run in the Downhill to finish third, but crashed through the finish, my legs having turned to some form of glutinous jelly, and badly dislocated my shoulder. It was excruciatingly painful and meant that I couldn’t lift my arm for weeks, which was becoming an issue as I was supposed to be carrying out Public Duties (what the men in bearskins and scarlet tunics normally do) at The Tower, where carrying a sword and moving my arm around was a fairly essential part of the procedure. Addy learned of my difficulty and suggested I visit her rather magnificently appointed Queen’s House on Tower Green for a ‘session’ or two. Nothing much happened on my first two visits apart from little spasms running down my arm, but on the third occasion my arm acquired a life of its own and suddenly started going up, up, up until I was waving it around above my head, like a policeman on point duty. It was without question one of the most bizarre experiences of my life, but we became firm friends and later I couldn’t walk into a room where she was without feeling her electricity and starting to twitch like an electric eel. (Actually I’ve no idea if electric eels twitch, but it sounds as though they ought to?)
The conventional medical profession does a marvellous job, but there’s so much more we have to learn, that science alone cannot yet explain. These are the continuing adventures of ….
ADayInTheStrifeOf 