A Medical and Spiritual Journey Part Two The Book That Talked Back

Day Fifty-two

Arthritis, Medicine and the Spiritual Laws: The Power Beyond Science fell into my life through the agency of a used bookstore and cost the grand total of $3.50 for a hardback copy.

I felt as if an old and loving friend had sat down for a serious talk. He would tell me many things I needed to know for my own good. His sharing would come from my known place of vulnerability so I wouldn’t feel too intimidated or too talked-down-to to listen. Dr. Loring Swaim said harsh things in a loving voice; he told of life patterns and personalities in arthritics who had been his patients. He shared his frustrations and mistakes. Someone so strong, and loving, called forth my deepest attention. What if he were right?

“Home relationships seemed to be the most disturbing factors. Where home conditions were strained and unhappy, there was resentment and bitterness . . . with a sense of insecurity. . . . these chronic patients were extremely self-centered, often full of demand and self-pity, which made them blame others for their unhappiness.” — Dr. Loring Swaim, p. 5

Extremely self-centered, full of self-pity: me? And all this talk about the only person you could change was yourself. Why, I knew exactly where the fault was: it was my husband (an earlier husband) who was drinking too much; it was my husband who refused a two-person job search, now I’d gotten my degree.

“I make enough money,” he said. “You don’t have to work.”

He was wrong; I did have to work. The problem was that my feet were still too tentative on the path of writing for me to yet realize, or trust, that writing was my work. I was still trying desperately ‘to make it so.’ Yet I was crying every afternoon, a puzzled, unhappy, spouting Old Faithful gusher. I don’t recall wondering, is this all there is? But why did I cry? For that matter, why did he drink?

— JoAnn Lordahl, from Reconnecting the Healing Circle, Maupin House, 1993, pp. 82–83

Day Fifty-three

While I studiously ignored any hints of religion or spirituality — I didn’t believe in them, as if that belief would cause religion and spirituality to go away — Dr. Swaim continued to talk to me of fears, resentments, and hopelessness.

As Dr. Swaim wrote of arthritic cripples with fears, resentments, and hopelessness, I began understanding that I could choose to wallow where I was in helplessness. Or I could rejoin life. I could fight back. Was I really prepared to cry every afternoon for the rest of my life? Even I, still wallowing around, could see this as a huge waste.

Some time later, I was lucky enough to have something truly horrible happen. When I became ill on a foreign research trip, I arrived unexpectedly home to find my beloved husband in our bed with someone else. There in the dark bedroom her shape grew from his side.

I thought I would die. I contemplated ways.

I survived. I learned that nothing is ever certain.

With something to really resent, I gave up resentment. With the worst fear I could imagine already having happened to me, I gave up fear. I grew up. I took back myself. When the stage of anger arrived, I tossed hopelessness out of the highest window I could find and ran down the stairs to stomp on its remains and sing. Freedom was scary but it was free.

I got a divorce. I got a paying job. (Boca Raton before I remarried.) I got rid of my arthritis. Five years or so later, after moving the bottle of red pills several times, I tossed them out, still unopened. Many things may get me — but arthritis? Never.

— JoAnn Lordahl, from Reconnecting the Healing Circle, Maupin House, 1993, pp. 83–84

Thank you for reading. Reading and writing consume most of my dwindling energy these days. Till Next Time . . . Stay safe, stay healthy, be kind.

Dr. Jo Ann Lordahl is a lifelong author, poet, novelist, and speaker whose work explores empowerment, aging with grace, and the deep questions that define our lives. Her books and reflections — from historical fiction to meditations on creative living — encourage resilience, reflection, and positive transformation.

If this post stirs questions about moral courage, shared humanity, or the work of healing in hard times, consider exploring Dr. Lordahl’s writing — especially her essays and books on reflection and personal transformation. Her voice reminds us that even in upheaval, there is a path toward patience, insight, and compassionate action.