Extracts of the upcoming Book
I write to you as I write to those I love.
I write because I know you are relentlessly questioning, that you struggle tirelessly, and I like to think that if you are currently looking at the sun, or the rain, that you feel in your heart joy, or pain – so we are together.
Because we are all united by a wound and a smile, and that I believe possible to conjugate our pains as much as our hopes.
I share with you the sense of challenge that opens before us.
Henceforth, it is not the Man who asks the question of the meaning of life, it is rather his Life that questions him.
It is up to Man to answer the different questions that his life asks him.
But do we only understand them? Will we be able to answer with love to all the responsibilities and opportunities that are brought to us?
We have the capacity to receive messages from the stars and the songs of the night winds.
Often, things die or fade because they have been touched too much, bruised, ransacked. But sometimes, things happen to break also because they have not been touched at all. Maybe being forgotten, misunderstood, set aside – is what makes us fragile, what breaks us.
In the world of healthcare, in the hospitals, I heard the bodies as well as the beings. Bodies of silence and solitude.The bodies must be considered again.
We must meet the body not with a cold and technical hand, but with a loving and warm hand that is the true extension of the heart.
A simple caring hand on a shoulder in the medical community reassures and signals an attention, a presence.
I spent part of my life holding the hand of those who are suffering, those who are going to die, those who are sick; and I know that in writing these lines my ideas are in opposition to common trends, because it goes against the society of the ‘least suffering’ and ‘least effort’ in which we are.
Yet, if at first I gave my hand with the desire to remove suffering and change things, I realized over time that the only way to change things, is to love them first.
Yes, I have a praise for suffering, just as there is a praise on joy.
In our quest for happiness, we wish every day by every means to stifle or expurgate the suffering out of us as if it were the impediment preventing us to access fullness, peace, love.
I believe, on the contrary, that love is hidden in what we take for suffering.
I believe that we are ignorant of all (or almost all) of the diseases which affect us, and that the angle with which we approach them is not greater than the hole of a lock and enlightens us as much as flashlight, in the fog of a random fatalism. We formulate hypotheses as strong as wind, derived from a distorted logic, to apprehend a mystery and a much more ingenious reality. We claim things with the certainty of our modern medicine, which has no more than a hundred years, and the fact that we change our minds every few decades does not seem to bother our arrogance. Despite billions of dollars spent, we still do not grasp the pathogenesis of a disease, its profound implications, neither all of its forms of manifestation, its causes, its prevention and even less its resolution.
We reduce man, as we have reduced Nature and the Living, to a sum of numbers and norms, through statistics that model and imprison it. We “strive to confuse Life with the physical support of its manifestation, (…) as one would retain from a whole poem only the chemical composition of the paper on which it is printed.”
In other words, the composition of the universe is identical to that of the human body. Every thing that exists is your alter-ego. We could then join the spiritual injunction of Ramana Maharshi when he answered the question: “How to treat others? ” by ” There are no other. “
But how to prove it scientifically? In what envisionning life, man and the living this way could change all applications of medicine?
We would probably have to start by realizing that since the dawn of time science and philosophy have agreed that everything, absolutely everything in this world, is composed of fundamental elements.
When did we stop being a person to become a patient? And since when did we stop being a patient to become a sum of organs and functions considered defective or vigorous, normal, acceptable, or at best, a patchwork of systems that sort, synthesize, destroy, regenerate … ?
Hippocrates said that for any self-respecting physician, “What escapes the eye (must be) mastered by the eye of the mind. ” Not the eye of the technique or the machine, no; the loving eye that perceives through the heart. Almost, the eye of ‘God’.
Who can perceive the infinite behind a man. Able to see a person behind a pathology. An wound behind a statistic.
If man really wants to understand the meaning of healing, he has to become again a citizen of his own heart.
“I was young, I said to myself: I have life in front of me.
As I got older, I said to myself: I have life behind me.
Sick, I said to myself: I do not care; as long as I have life with me.
Since then, life is always with me.
Neither in front, nor behind, nor before, nor after.
I stopped offering it on the altar of Time.
I brought life back to life.”