My mom has vitiligo. I have it too. She used to sit on the side deck, overlooking the pond as part of her therapy. Back then, you could go darker or lighter. Michael Jackson went lighter. She went darker.
As the youngest of six children, special attention was a valuable commodity. I remember almost every moment of special attention I got.
I used to go to my mom’s deck where she sunned her vitiligo and comb her hair. A normally stressed, overworked, somewhat angry person would relax, smile, and express so much gratitude. Combing her hair was my special attention.
Today, I draw a line between combing her hair and my Creative Journey practice. Caring, soothing, and serving my clients feels like special attention to me - especially when I help them achieve calm in the midst of the psychedelic journey.
When did you last give or get special attention?
Mom and I birding in Panama 2003