500 Words – Day 033 – Reflections on Restoration and Recovery -883 Words-

Death and life are two factors in the same equation. Two sides of the same coin if you will. Disease is not something that happens to us. We are not victims of diseases. We are an organic lifeform that can end up in a state of disease if all of the right environmental conditions are met, combined with long spans of time. As an organic lifeform, perfect health could or should be described as a complete state of ease where everything is systemically working in harmony as designed, completely free of resistance or hindrance.

I prefer to look at life as a spectrum. I do not see death as something that is in front of us but as something that is behind us. The only thing that is truly dead is the time that we spent whether well or poorly spent. We were born into this current existence as sentient lifeforms that will eventually transition away from this current phase of life on Earth. What lay before us is hope and potential. A potential life marked by ease on one end and a life filled with dis-ease on the other end of the spectrum. Pain is my body telling me that I am doing something wrong; suffering results from me not listening to that pain. I’ve learned my lesson, and I am ready to get on with my life.

As I drive around the streets of Los Angeles, I daily see people who likely don’t know that their body is aging much faster than necessary. And some people are just falling apart. I used to be that guy.

June 1, 2022, marks six years since I began a journey of recovery that would be something more than a voyage of grand discovery. On that day, I started my journey toward sober-minded decision-making, which helped me realize that something bigger than me was in charge of what was going on and that my plans were the problem. I had failed some of those around me, but even more so, I had failed my own body, and now it seemed to be failing me. But maybe it wasn’t. Perhaps it was just crying out in pain for some desperately needed attention.

Yet, in my ignorance, my body saw fit to teach me that there is nothing that I can do to improve its functionality. My body already knew the program that I was about to learn. And that if I want it to perform optimally, I need do nothing more than get out of its way, stop interfering, and let it teach me in its ancient ways.

Everything about my body demonstrates less evidence of age, week after week. Day after day, my body confirms that I am continually moving in the right direction. And I can’t imagine that this would continue to happen if I were mistaken. I know that I am unique, as all of us are, but I don’t believe I have any special abilities that every one of you doesn’t also have.

The spontaneous healing of cancer is a phenomenon that can be observed and has been for hundreds and thousands of years. After being the subject of many controversies, it has been accepted as an indisputable fact. Our body can spontaneously heal itself from many stages of disease if it has the right amount and kind of resources, the energy to do the work, and ALL the hydration needed to accomplish the task. And if my body can spontaneously heal from all manner of disease, then I can’t imagine why it shouldn’t be able to recover from any disease state of a lesser nature.

I am a first-hand witness to this in my own life. Provide the body with the proper conditions, nutrients, and sufficient hydration, and it knows nothing other than to find homeostasis and heal whatever keeps you from enjoying a life of ease rather than disease. Just look around at the rest of nature. It does not argue, fuss, or fight. It simply goes with the flow submitting completely to the greater intellect that is creation itself. Nature is never confused and even if we think we can go against nature and its infinitely wise ways we are simply missing the bigger picture. There is no going against nature without removing ourselves from nature which is an impossible feat regardless of courage, skill, or strength. There is no going against nature because even that is part of nature too. You’ll just end up battered, torn, and beaten and nature will still have its way. Our body is nature.

These days I am very fortunate to be looking at a bright future thanks to the human body’s ability to heal itself from the metabolic nightmare I put it through. Alcohol was just the first excess that had to go. Little did I know just how far my body could recover. I have a feeling the life of this body is needed somewhere far off in the future. But for what I don’t yet know?

Biologically, I am a strict determinist. And if there is one thing I see everywhere in nature, it is that biology does not waste energy where there is no potential for the growth of healthy life.

Where is this body taking me? Only time will tell.


In the poetic tapestry of life and death, both elements waltz as twin flames in the theatre of existence. Like dual faces of a single cosmic coin, they teach us of our own fragility and strength. It’s not disease that targets us, as if some cruel game. No, we are but creatures of flesh and bone, and like any living canvas, we might find ourselves marred with time and circumstance.

To me, life doesn’t arc towards death; rather, it flows from it. What’s truly lifeless is not our future but the moments already passed, the echoes of laughter and tears, choices well or ill-made. We emerge from the void, destined to embrace another cosmic journey once we shed this mortal coil. What lies ahead isn’t the gloom of an ending but the brilliance of possibility, a spectrum that spans the blissful serenity of life and the torments of imbalance.

My body, a complex machinery, often signals its needs and discomforts, imploring for care. Yet, sometimes, the soul’s deafness is its own curse. I had to learn, often the hard way, to heed these cries.

Driving through Los Angeles, I am oftentimes haunted by the souls I witness — souls tethered to bodies that seem to age before their time, reflections of the choices they’ve made. I saw myself in them once, a shadow of the man I could be.

More than half a decade ago, the calendar etched a pivotal date. It was the dawn of my personal renaissance, a choice to be sober in thought and action. I recognized the universe’s dance, realizing the chaos was often of my own making. My body bore the scars of my ignorance, yet it remained patient, whispering ancient pearls of wisdom. It wasn’t about conjuring miracles but simply ceasing my interference, allowing nature’s grand design to unveil.

Week by week, as I watched my reflection transform, it was as if time played tricks. My body’s resilience was not a testament to any unique prowess but a universal gift lying dormant in all of us. History is replete with tales of miraculous recoveries, bodies reclaiming their vitality against all odds. If nature could recalibrate itself, why couldn’t the vessel I inhabit?

My journey led me to respect my body’s innate wisdom, to treat it not as a machine but as a living, breathing extension of the universe. Nature doesn’t resist or defy; it gracefully bends, embracing the rhythms set by cosmic laws. Any attempt to defy this dance is but hubris. We are but threads in nature’s vast tapestry.

Today, as I stand at the crossroads of past choices and future possibilities, I am grateful to the miracles of biology. Nature doesn’t indulge in vanity; it invests only where there’s promise. I often wonder where this vessel will lead me next and what destinies lie uncharted.

In the grand ballet of life, if there’s one truth I’ve discerned, it’s that life always seeks growth, expansion, and evolution. And as for where destiny might carry me? That remains a mystery penned by the stars.