Healing fun

by Bernie DeKoven on July 21, 2010

I just received this email from Chris Collins, someone I’ve been coaching for a couple months. I thought, maybe, it might give you some insights about the whole practice, and maybe move you to be doing something similar, for money, for love, hopefully for both:

When did all this start? Man, I have no idea. When will it end? Ditto. But now, I no longer care.

On, of all days, St. Patricks Day 2010, I found myself in a hospital, faced with a hemotologist who said, you HAVE to be admitted! It could be LEUKEMIA! I felt it a grand joke on a green day. What? Are you kidding me?

Prior to this I had been a pretty “happy” gal. After all, married 37 years, two kids, two grandsons, house, two cars, business, a few good friends, and I woke up most every day smiling. I was always in gratitude for the day. I was always open for whatever would come. My favorite word was YES. My favorite food was artichoke. Okay, I know, I got off track there…but suffice to say, I THOUGHT I was doing pretty good.

But this woman threw me for a loop. Huh?

Heck, I’m 58 and you are telling me NOW that I could have some kind of major disease? Well, she wasn’t the only one. I went to blood doctors, and specialists, I went to alternative doctors and specialists, and by the time I started reaching out for help, my whole mood was depressed. I no longer woke up happy, I woke up scared. It was a feeling I was used to from my childhood (alcholism and abuse), and I felt, like I had in those early years…lost and alone.

What the heck is going on and what do I do with it? Who do I go to for help? How do I lose this fear? Because I can’t live like this…literally. The fear will kill me before the blood will. But, in general, I was toast if I didn’t find help. And no butter on this toast. I do love my butter.

That began my search for folks who healed folks. Maybe they had different types of tools for healing, but I needed help.  I found Bernie’s site. On a very deep and timely basis, I needed FUN. Maybe he could help? Of course, he said. He would give me whatever he could to get me back to laughing, acting silly, letting go of all of this heavy stuff. At least for moments at a time. Which is all I needed…just a break from the craziness…to allow joy back in.

Gooood! Gooood! I can use this! So we began, only by email, to talk about fun. About the different kinds of fun, about how to generate it, how to allow it, how to encourage it, how to be it. Oh yes, this is what I remember, this is the goofoffieness that I truly am. And Bernie could bring it. We would write to each other only when we felt like it (I was in bed most of the time), he would bring me thoughts that were new about fun, and I would let them sink in to this body, as I was letting platelets sink into my veins two times a week, for months.

I truly believe the fun thoughts were more healing. Actually I know they were.

Before long, I had found an alternative doc who would help me get better, and I would emerge from the depths of blackness, having a new friend to lead me back to the light. I had others too, to let me know that there was more to do on this plane than I had once imagined…but my Fun Coach, he came through with the peace and levity that I needed to focus on…from a perfect stranger…without feeling sorry for me, but by supporting in me what I always had, but had forgotten. Deep Fun. I thank him for that each and every day, and I look forward to what Fun I can cook up with each and every face I meet.

Chris Collins


A Playful Path photoA playful path is the shortest road to happiness.
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