About a year ago I had just come home from the hospital. Weak beyond belief from having suffered a virus that turned into complications, I now faced getting my strength back one day at a time. It was early November and now I plodded through my birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas in a depleted body.

I had caught the virus at a very special event called “Sing For Peace.” My dear friend, Phil McWilliams was hosting a free event at what is called “The E Church.” I had been asked to act as a greeter. I took the job with some hesitation, knowing I would be leaving town to visit my sister in Pennsylvania in a few days. My clothes hung on a pole waiting to be packed as I left the house that night.

Inside the lovely little church, I said hello to lots of people. One of them was carrying the virus that I caught there. At first it seemed like the garden-variety type. I saw my doctor, went to a clinic, saw my doctor again, but I kept getting worse.

One night I knew I had to get my son to drive me to the ER. They did a CAT scan and thought I might have pancreatitis. They found me a room, which happened to be on a floor for cardiac patients so I got excellent nursing care. The MRI showed I might have had an obstruction, but apparently it had resolved itself. Now came days of diarrhea and IV fluids. Finally I got home on the fourth day.

My voice had completely gone. It is, a year later, still weak and lower in tone than it was.

Skip to last night:

Phil had a small group of people over for a vegetarian potluck and chanting. It had been over a year since we had talked. I sat down and told him about my illness. He, being the healer and shaman that he is, wondered about the connection between the event and my subsequent illness. I had my own thoughts about it. I had come to the conclusion that I had extroverted myself for the event and had borrowed energy that I didn’t have.

His comment was on the lines of “You won’t do that again, will you?” And simple as that, I had come full circle.

Now I was back in his home with my tribe, people that are heart-centered and vibrate with me totally. Here I do not have to extrovert myself. I can rest in the company of the wise.

After eating, we gathered around Phil in his living room and sang devotional chants. Wisely, I only murmured from time to time. Rob sat beside me. On our drive home, neither of us spoke. Our bellies and hearts were full.

I will leave you with the these words we all chanted with reverence and gratitude.

“O Lord,

He whose dress is the wide white sky

Who is all pervading

Whose arms are spread to all four sides

One with the blissful face

We meditate on you, nullify all troubles.”

Vicki Woodyard