100 days of healing tour

DAY 294   What started as my 100 DAYS OF HEALING TOUR appeared to become a much longer and still ongoing tour. Yes, I’m an optimist. And I choose to always be one.

Without realising it, I landed back on Cyprus exactly 9 months after my departure. What am I doing here? For one reason or another I had to get back here just for a while, before the end of the year.

Warm seaswimming in December

On March 15 this year at Larnaka Airport I was brought in a wheelchair to the airplane and with a chunk of plaster on my leg I hopped into the craft. For a while I have considered to have myself carried by such a Greek God, but actually the situation itself already was crazy enough. On December 15 lately I stepped out of the plane totally autonomic and walked with my little suitcase into the sunlight again.

In the term in between I went through an expeditiously development that changed my life in all aspects. While until then I was a mediocre runner, everlasting continuer and succesful runaway, a complicated ankle fracture forced me to sit still. And in that stillness progress on all levels arised; physically, mentally and spiritually. Probably in reversed order, so spiritually, mentally and physically.

Today we finally did our delayed walk in the Troödos mountains,the plan we had on the 2nd of March, when Elia came to pick me up. But I dropped off the stairs, so in stead of to the mountains she brought me linea recta to the hospital.   

I still limp and feel pain every day, but I have to confess that I wouldn’t have missed the lapse. I was unstopable and this tumble made me taking time to stand (sit) still for who I am and what I really want.

There where you stumble your biggest treasure is burried.
(Paulo Coelho)

Walk in Troödos Mountains with Elia Stephanidou

Life is an adventure and I am a wanderer, a therapist and an artist. Once I thought I had to choose, but this year made it clear to me that I’m allowed to be all and that as an (icon) painter ánd as a therapist I can be productive and groovy.

Within one month the titanium framework will be taken out of my ankle. This has made the walking quite nasty until now and the doctor foretells me not to count on too much improvement, but I take the chance.

I will focus the coming year particularly on individual intensives and retreats, in which fundamental changes will be effectuated fast. I’ve already started this in the past months.

I know what I’m good at and I know what I love to do the most. And only that I will do the coming year.

I wish you all good, lots of love & progression in the new year!


DAY 94   Today is the day I’m going to stride into the sea. At least, that’s the plan.

I drive to a beach where I remember the nearest parking places and shortest path to the sea, because they have no real dunes there and that’s why it’s the most dangerous part of the Dutch shore. Every disadvantage has its benefit. 😉 BUT since the last time I was here it’s all changed to parking only for licencees, which I’m not. I choose to park illegal today (at the car park of the hotel I used to do my seminars some years ago) and the path is much longer than I remembered. It’s a painful walk, up to the dunes and down to the beach followed by a bumpy trip through the sand to the water. My knee and ankle are very stiff and the ligaments seem too short to stretch.

I take of my shoes and feel the cold soothing water caressing my feet. They’ve missed it, I’ve missed it. Standing in the surf, the wet sand adapts around the shape of my feet soft and easy, but the pull is strong as usual, so I take care to keep my balance. This feels so good! Big Smile. I would like to, but don’t dare to sit on the sand, because I’m not so sure of being able to rise with no support except the crutch, which I’m pushing into the sand a little too easy. After some time standing and walking carefully into the sea, with my three legs, I start walking back.

I’m healthy. I’m healing myself. My legs are fine. I love my ankles. My feet are strong. I walk steady and stable. I’m very flexible and so are my legs. I am infinite healing power.

Before every step I watch the sand and choose a spot where I can put my toes deeper than my heel, to limit the pressure and pain on the tendon of Achilles. I guess this way of walking looks like crazy and I laugh when I watch myself from above. It’s like I’m climbing a mountain, using my crutch like a hook and pulling myself upwards. Although it hurts I love to be walking barefoot in the sand. A girl asks me if I need help and I thank her very much for her kindness. I take a coffee at the beachclub, get back into my shoes, walk to my car and drive home. Lovely to be out in nature and happy to be back home in my silent space. PEACE.

DAY 77  Every morning at awakening there’s that moment, where I move myself, feel and think: “Oh yes, that leg.” That stiff leg. Not that painful anymore, but that nasty uncomfortable feeling which I don’t get used to. In the night I’ve forgotten it all, happily, but when I wake up there is the constraint of the body. I try my best and give a twist to my thoughts: three weeks ago I wasn’t able to stand, had a cast around it, had to lay on my back. And 77 days ago my foot was a wound, with broken bones, torn ligaments and a lot of pain. Now only my leg is stiff and painful, but as good as whole. The bone is beautiful! The skin is gorgeous. The scarfs on both sides are thin lines, almost the same colour as the rest of the skin. I can turn on both sides, don’t need extra pillows anymore and I can even lay on my belly, sometimes.

Laying in bed I move my feet. Stretching backwards and curving toes, than bending up front and curling up. Not a nice feeling, but nothing compared to the pain at March 2. I succeed much more in doing this then just after the cast was taken off. I let my right foot join in, flexible and painless. I can be frustrated by thinking how easy and flexible it was, but I choose to admire my left foot for the beautiful recovery and progress.

With a crutch I waggel to the bathroom. It asks courage to stand on it again. And I say loudly to myself: “You can stand on it.” That’s what the fysiotherapist also says, but I tend to forget it, I tend to spare it when it hurts, but now I can stand on it. Going towards the pain is always better than pulling away from it. Avoiding never solves anything, it only delays and than you’re carrying it with you for longer. I can do it and I do it.

Showering while I’m standing is nice. I switch off the warm tap and leave my left leg under the cold shower until I’ve dried the rest of me. Sitting on a stool I dry my feet and walk back to my bedroom. It feels like summer so I put on my blue flower dress, bought in Honolulu. After my breakfast with Cypriot coffee I go out. Flip, my cat, comes with me.

I walk very consiously, try to lean on the crutches as less as possible and as much as possible on my feet, rolling of my feet at every step. I watch and feel how I do that with my right foot. I never pay attention to this. What actually is normal walking, how does it work? If you can do something and you do it naturally you don’t pay attention to it anymore. I’m on the road for about 45 minutes and I walk almost one kilometer. Meanwhile I check at the newborn in the neighbourhood; gooses, coots, lambs.

Every morning I meet at least one stranger on the go, who asks me if I can manage and what has happened to me. I tell them I broke my ankle and that last month I wasn’t able to walk at all and now I’m walking outside. And that I’m very happy about that and so it’s going a little better every day. Yes, it hurts. Or someone walks by, doesn’t ask for details, but wishes me the best. People smile friendly at me or nodd at me engouraging. What a beautiful neighbourhood I live in with such kind people.

I feel vulnerable, but because of all these kind people around me I feel protected when making my first fragile steps. I experience compassion and encouragement. And I focus on my progression and on how good it feels to walk here so calm and consciously. To have the time and to take the time. And to be totally in the here and now.

It is only 11 in the morning. I’m writing my blog, while I’m sitting with both bare feet in the sun. For Mothersday I got lavander oil and now I’m going to massage my feet with it and than just lay in the sun for awhile. Here and now. Don’t worry. Be happy.

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen

DAY 58  Eight weeks after breaking my ankle on multiple places I’m back to walking. This is an amazing time, very interesting and it’s changing me. I was used to run around, I had to see the sea at least once a week and I had to swim all through the year. Many habits I couldn’t do in the past two months, so I focussed on different things, like my healing, my deeper desires, my deeper programs, forgiving, loving, living through emotions, neutralising, raising my frequency, etc. etc.

After six weeks the doctor sent me home without a walking cast. She told me I did’t need it and I saw the X-ray myself with beautiful bones. They had grown back in the right shape. All those cells knew exactly what to do. But what about me, what do I know?

My attempt to heal myself and my ankle

  1. I accepted the situation as a learning option and a chance for change.
  2. I decided not to complain, not to worry, but to trust myself and my health.
  3. I chose John Cleese and his British comedy collegues as my healers and watched them at least a few hours every day.
  4. I chose Louise Hay to talk to me when I fell and was asleep every night to work on myself, to reprogram my thought patterns, when I was out of conscious.
  5. I listened to my needs, ate and drank only what I wanted when I wanted.

And every day I appreciated my life, my health, my legs, my new tools (the Titanium screws and plate in my leg, the crutches, the wheelchair) and I felt so blessed knowing this handicap is only temporarely. I had two or three down days, because too much pain can make me grumpy. Now I take painkillers if it gets too bad, because I want to do my exercises to get back to real walking.

When I’m aware I choose my thoughts. I focus on what benefits me and my healing. I’ve done the concerts with my choir and now I’m on a choir-break. When I couldn’t do my daily work I did what I love to do as well. Or I did nothing or I watched stuff like this. I created a new patreon page to be supported in the work I do.

Today I’m learning to walk and it’s the first day I’m wearing shoes. At fysiotherapy I was able to stand on my toes and I felt pure joy when tears run down my face.

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen

DAY 18  Who thought I would ever be so happy with a wheel chair? I didn’t, but I am. My life has changed since I fell down stairs and broke my ankle 18 days ago. It hurt a lot and I felt my body in shock. I consciously experienced trauma and all the fear, fight- and more-than-anything-my-flight-responses. But flight was impossible!!! I couldn’t do anything but pick up my phone and ask for help. Lucky I was with a friend so close. She ran to pick me up in two minutes and brought me to the best doctor in the area, who fixed my leg the same night.

First Aid, Urgency and Emergency? I thought such things wouldn’t happen to me. Well, they do. And this experience is a life lesson in so many ways. What do you do in such situations when you call yourself a Stress Release Specialist? Well, I knew exactly what to do and I did it. I immediately started to work on myself, after allowing myself one minute of loud screaming and blaming myself for being stupid, not taking the elevator, but the stairs. For not wearing my steady boots, but light shoes.

Does that help? No, it doesn’t. So I started tapping, loving myself, appreciating my life and having my friend Elia close to me, who showed her strength and calmness at the right time. She saw my leg was a mess and knew it was broken. I saw it too, but we didn’t say it.

I decided not to worry about anything anymore, but just appreciate and bless everyone and everything that was helping to HEAL. And it was so easy to do. In the next days I was surrounded by only loving, kind, friendly people. Elia stayed with me all the time, tapped on me before and after the surgery and brought me in deep peaceful sleep.

As soon as I was able to communicate my Practitioner Friends gave me sessions to get rid of all that was connected to this accident. And there were such kind nurses and the amazing friendly calm doctor who made me feel confident about my leg and ankle.

It takes awhile to realise that the break is serious and it will take at least six weeks for my ankle and leg to have the bones grow, before I’m allowed to put weight on it, which means no standing, no walking, rescheduling all standing activities I had planned, like the Be Smart Stay Slim seminar at the end of the month.

I gain a lot of experience and understanding about how the mind works and how we create trauma. It is amazing! I already know I want to use this, but first I take time for my healing and don’t plan to do any sessions on anyone till I can stand on my legs again.

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen

DAY 3   We didn’t know each other at all when Elia said to me: “Next time you’re here, come to Cyprus.” And I did, next time I flew from Athens to Cyprus for some days. When I arrived she’d arranged a night out with the few people I already knew here, my fellow Eutaptics Practitioners.

Two of them I met three years before in Budapest where we did our first seminar with Robert Smith and they became my buddies for practicing Eutaptics. During the years we’ve been swapping many sessions via Skype, so we got to know each other quite well. When you work this way, you get to know someone’s struggle, pain, resistance and you help each other solve it by changing bad memories to better ones and, when you do it right, you laugh and learn a lot together. Two of them and Elia I met more recently in Athens, when I was assisting Smith in Eutaptics Level 1.

Now I’m here in Cyprus again and this time she has arranged a Greek Night for all of us. All the week she’s been busy with it, calling with the Chef about the menu, according to my not eating anything with a heart and I asked her to keep it simple. I love salads. But yesterday I told her I feel too fragile and unstable to be in the crowd, to walk, take humps or stairs, so it’s cancelled.

I’m still light headed, busy with complicated projects like reaching the bathroom in time, so I miss most of the conversation Elia is having on the phone and also sometimes when she speaks to me. I have no idea about who’s coming or not, but suddenly they’re all here. Katherina brings homemade carrotcake and they get nice Libanese food. Very good stuff. They haven’t been all together since I was here the last time and they say I have to keep coming back to be the glue to keep them connected. I accept the job. It’s a beautiful night. I mean, if I had planned to break a leg, it was the best choice to do it now and to do it HERE.

I feel blessed being surrounded by these lovely people. And when some start to dance I’m dancing too, sitting in my two chairs, one for me and one for my legs. And my heart is dancing along. When they’re all gone and I’m in bed, trying to find a position to fall asleep by creating comfort for the leg and the cast, I’m wondering again about my connection with this place and the people here. If I had past lives I had one at least in this area. Feeling home, like we’re all siblings of the same parents. There might be many differences, but in the state I’m in now, I only see and feel what we have in common. Might be the drugs I’m using? 😉

Last Thursday I realised how different I felt and behaved while I was in the hospital. This is the result of a session I’ve done with the help of Andreas, some time ago. To practice Eutaptics we were each others clients (guinee pigs), so we set a date every week. One session for him, one for me, etc.

Just before we connected on Skype we picked something to work on and one time I told him I knew I’d been in hospital for 7 weeks, before I was two years old. I knew the story only by what my mother told me, but I had no memories. What I did have was a very uncomfortable feeling in hospitals and anger towards the whitecoats. For years I thought it was normal, because I only got there when my loved ones were sick. I remember visiting my grandparents there and I guess I was afraid to loose them. But it was a kind of rage I felt when I entered the place and smelt it, no matter the reason I had to be there, also when I needed their help. I’ve been training Young Doctors on their selfreflection and communication skills. Nice young people with a mission. Nothing wrong with them, but I felt there was something inside me.

And I wanted to change it, so I asked Andreas to help me changing bad memories which I didn’t remember. And he did. Everytime I told him: “I don’t remember” he said: “That’s okay, make it up.” Which I did and while I spoke I listened to myself and thought: maybe this has really happened, maybe not. Who cares? Anyway, it was very effective. I can’t recount what happened, but the rage is gone, just gone. And I realised this very much when I was brought into the Ygia Policlinic Private Hospital this week. It was different than ever before. I surrendered and I was kind to all of them, the whitecoats, the bluecoats and the nocoats. I loved them and appreciated their help and I thanked them all the time.

I’ve changed a lot, since I’m doing this work and had many sessions myself. Of course I would never imagine to go to Cyprus to break a leg to understand this. There’s no logic in there. Exactly. Shit happens, shiFt happens. No logic. It works.

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen

Foto: screws

DAY 2  I wake up enlightened. I know the surgery is done well. No pain. I check my phone to see the time, it’s 4 in the morning and I see that Elia left me a message last night: “Happy recovery Jeannette..!!!” With a link to YouTube Louise Hay: The Unconscious Habits Of Your Mind. She has plugged in my earphones, so I listen to Louise’s soothing voice and I sink into sleep again.

I lift the blanket, watch my feet and I know my left foot is connected straight to my leg, back on it’s right position again and that is such a relief. In my mind I can still see that foot hanging awry and I remember the pain.

And everytime I see that picture in my mind; that oblique foot, the shock, my body stiffens and convulses and I start tapping immediately. I tap on my face and I say: “Let it go. Release and Let It Go. Whatever it is. The shock, the pain. Whatever it means. Let It Go. It’s safe to let it all go. Time To Let It Go. Let It Go …” I put my right foot closer to the left one, so it can cuddle it, hold it, support it. They need each other, they are buddies since all my life. In my mind I send love down from my heart to my legs to my feet. And I imagine golden light, white light, bright light, love, warmth, tenderness and send it all there. I tell my foot I love you. You’re doing great. Please forgive me. I forgive you  and I doze away. I send a message to Elia: “Καλημέρα αγαπήμενή μου. I’m feeling good. Happy it’s fixed. I’m so grateful. Found my phone and headset, so I could listen to Louise. Take it easy. I’m fine. Σ’ευχαριστώ πολύ αγγελóυδι μου.”

After breakfast the doctor enters the room and I’m really happy to see his face. I’m amazed how familiair a stranger can become in just some hours, but this stranger is an important one, he’s a legsaver. He takes of his coat, sits down and asks how I feel. He shows me the x-ray photos, what was broken where, the Titanium plate and all the ten screws. Now I can see the foot is straight under the tibia, where it belongs.

That looks so much better! The doctor explains comprehensively what he has done and what is supposed to happen from now on. He gives me a big envelope with the photos, a letter for the doctor at home, prints of my heartbeat during the operation and the status of my blood. I’ve got an anti thrombosis injection in my belly. He gives me a recipe for a stomach protector, because the medicines are junk, blood thinners against blood lumping and two kinds of painkillers.

At this moment it’s all good to me and I totally trust; this guy knows what he is doing, he seems to like his job. Nice! Good! I’m allowed to leave the hospital today, but I’m absolutely forbidden to sustain any weight on my foot. The axial crutches are brought in and the doctor takes them out of the wrapping paper to adjust them to my bodylength. He wishes me a fast recovery, tells me I can always call him and I thank him for his good care and the beautiful job he’s done. He tells me to phone his office today to make an appointment for next Monday, he wants to see me for a check. 

A message from Elia: “Καλημέρα strong one…!! Send me a message on what you need more… Your doctor will come and visit you.” I respond: “This morning was like before some years ago: waiking up naked in an unknown bed after being enchanted and touched by a pretty Cypriot. All I remember of last night: there were three handsome Cypriots at least, they were all dressed in blue and now I have stickers on my boops. Very weird party! No hangover. The drugs were better than ever. Please come and take me home.” And she answers: “I see u in a while…”

Home! I’m seriously drugged and happy with every pass through a few meters distance from the couch to the bed, the bathroom, the kitchen. Going to the bathroom I loose balance and I fall again. All I think is NOT ON MY ANKLE so I turn and I fall with my ankle up in the air, but adamant on my left knee. That hurts. However I’m glad I made the move. When I push up myself to sit on the toilet I rub the plaster bandage and notice it’s wet. I can’t control my muscles anymore. Jesus! Anyway,

I have to deal with it for the moment. Accepting, letting go, forgive, ask for help, be patient, be kind to myself and keep it simple. So I call Elia. “I peed on the floor. Can you please help me out here?” Luckily this strong bear is with me. Krav Maga Champion. Pinch those upper arms. Strong shrew she is. She lifts me up and we joke about it. Asking for help is quite nice actually and I admit to myself that it’s been enough. I’ve always been so brave, tough and independent. But not anymore. I’m done with it. I just peed in my pants and I don’t care. Well, I will not make peeing on the floor a habit, but it’s okay right now.

I’ve been falling so often, just like my sister, my cousins, my mother, my grandmother, who joked about it and said: “We are a family of fallen women.” Well, that’s a program. How to become successful with such one? How to stay on your feet with such a motto? How often I laid on the street? And the last years more often, painful, more serious? On the bicycle, racing to the Central Station, until my front wheel stuck into the tram rails and I flew a few meters before I landed on the pavement. And how did I respond?

As fast as I could I was back on my feet and raced on, with big holes in my pantalon and sleeve, left knee, left elbow, hip, bleeding, but just trying to get the train in time instead of going back home to rest and recover. It didn’t even cross my mind to do that. I had to study, to work, to get my daughter at the end of the day. And so I’ve been going down so often. Moving the piano from one spot to the other just by myself, making it glide on wheels and blankets, until it turned over. I shot away, but that left leg was just too late, so all the piano dropped onto my knee. I twisted my ankles, feet, knees so often. At home in the night walking the stairs in the darkness and thinking I’m down already, but I have one more step to go. Bam, diehard on the flagstones. So many times fallen.

And immediately risen. And yes, my left knee is an annoyance since years, damp in that knee, painful, hesitant, shaky. But I don’t want surgery and I can walk with it. Sometimes it bothers, often it irritates, but always continuing. Until now. I’ve always been quite flexible physically, so I bounced easily. Never broke anything, which is a kind of miracle in hindsight, until yesterday. Complicated break at three places. 

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
©Jeannette van Uffelen

The first day of my 100 DAYS OF HEALING TOUR happened to be in March 2017

DAY 1  Boom! Shock. Pain. Tremendous pain. Unbearable pain. Shock. I look at my foot and see it’s hanging next to my leg. The skin is alright, but the form, I see  … this is not in accord. I also feel it. Such pain. And such regret.

I shout it out loud: “Oh oh oh, I regret it so much that I did not take the elevator. So stupid! I shouldn’t have gone by the stairs. No no no. Such pain. So stupid!” But beating up myself doesn’t bring me any further and doesn’t do me any good, so I decide to stop doing this right now. I’ve been beating up myself more than enough, too much and too often and this has to be finished definitely. Beating up myself doesn’t help me. I have to forgive myself right now and be very kind to myself. That is what I need now. Love, unconditional love. And help. I need help immediately. I know I can and have to choose my thoughts wisely. Be gentle, be smart and use all my knowledge about trauma and stress release right now for myself.

The notion that I can not walk, that I’m not able to rise, that I can not move forward by myself, like I always do, every little pain and big hurt totally ignoring, slaps me in the face. This can’t be ignored. It is impossible to stand up, because my foot is swinging loosely at the end of my leg and the pain is maddening. It is impossible to get away from here on my own. This realisation hurts so much and is such a shock. I am the Independence Champion, the Ultimate Runaway. And now here I am, on the floor and better forget about running by myself anyway.

I’m so attached to my freedom and my independence; my autonomy, my ability to leave. (And my alternative option for when it gets difficult; to dissociate, dream away, leave the planet … is no option for today!) Forget it. Ouch!

I’m shivering all over my body. My hands are shaking. I notice my body’s in shock and I know that I have to act now. I search for my phone and with trembling hands I search for my friend’s number and call her. I say: “There’s something totally wrong here. Please come? I’m on the stairs. Something’s wrong with my foot.” And she answers me immediately: “Yes of course. I’m coming. Stay there.” Shortly after I hear her on the stairs above me. “Jeannette where are you? What happened?” She comes to me and I say to her “Be careful, it’s wet here.” I’m sitting on beautiful clean white wet marble. Apparently I slipped and before I realised I was down with an enormous smack. My friend sits with me and is trying to get an idea about what happened, but actually I don’t really know it myself. All of my body is trembling.

“Come on, I bring you to the doctor. Let’s go.” The last piece of the stairs I do on my bottom. I hop on one leg and lean on my friend to her car. Up we go. With my strong Krav Maga Queen. Lucky me. I let myself sink in the car and try to lay my foot somewhat comfortable. That’s impossible. However I position the thing, the pain is unbearable. And every movement makes me nauseous.

She drives me straight to the Private Clinic. And I’m so happy and so grateful that she’s with me. She helps me out of the car and puts me on the stairways in front of the main door. In no time she’s back with a wheelchair and a nurse. I’m heaved in the chair and brought inside, while I’m lifting and protecting my leg with the dangling foot. At the First Aid I’m helped on a table. The foot is getting bigger and I don’t dare to look at it, but look at it all the time. 

People walking on and off. After a while they take me for making some X Ray photos. Meanwhile a nurse taped my foot and put icepacks on it, which feels some better and made it a little more steady, so it swings less when I move. They made my friend sign for me, so now she’s responsible for everything. She’s amazing. Meanwhile I’ve told myself not to worry, not to complain, but trust and already I feel so grateful to anyone and everything around me. 

After some time they bring a real bed, help me onto it and take me in the elevator to my room. My friend sits next to me all day and every hour she’s tinting her lips. Once in a while she’s going to the reception to ask if I’m registered and what’s on the program for me. She taps on my face and so do I and I say: “I release and let it go.” I’m losing track on time totally and have no idea how long we are inhere. Than a handsome man walks in.

He introduces himself and says: “Nice to meet you.” I say my name and shake his hand: “Nice to meet you. I wished we’d met somewhere else in different circumstances.” He replies: “Yes, I do understand that.” He tells me that my ankle is broken on multiple places and that he’s going to operate me as soon as I’m sober (eight hours after my breakfast) and when there’s a surgery room available. I am relieved that this nice person is going to tinker my leg together. He calms me and that is pleasant, that is what I need; being appeased.

To be continued …   (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen

Foto: footsteps in the sand

This was the most shocking experience in the last twenty years for sure. I was sitting on the floor, had just fallen of the stairs and saw my ankle broken. My greatest fear was staring at me: I couldn’t stand up, I couldn’t walk on, I couldn’t run away.

I was in shock, but also I knew this was my challenge and my chance to change forever, to finally go there, go to the deep, changing myself. I’d been longing for it and trying to reach it, to do it, to change myself for so many years. I had no map, no idea of the route, but here it was, into my face. Don’t worry. Be open. Be wise. Do what you have to do.

And so my 100 days of healing tour started.