One of the tragic side effects of our scientific age of rational thought is that we are losing touch with our inner selves. We are constantly reminded that our feelings, intuitive hunches, and even our values don’t mean much. Only the so-called facts matter. Science doesn’t care about what you think or feel. It’s the data that counts. The scary truth is that we have collectively swallowed this unhealthy message. We have fallen for the big lie that science knows better than we do, particularly when it comes to matters of our own health.
Consider the fact that if you dare to challenge the medical system you may find yourself in legal trouble. I recall having to submit to an interrogation from a school superintendent after my attorney sent the district a letter notifying them that I refused on religious grounds to vaccinate my child. The superintendent openly admitted to me that he was very uncomfortable about having been placed in the position of having to judge the authenticity of my religious beliefs. If I failed the test, I would be forced to have my child vaccinated. The experts apparently knew more about what was best for my child than I did, notwithstanding the fact that I have a medical degree. The good news is that the superintendent was sympathetic to my situation.
We have unwittingly assimilated the message that qualitative experience-based knowledge is far less valuable than science-based quantitative knowledge. The primary consequence of having adopted this belief is that our capacity for self-knowledge has atrophied from neglect. Our capacity for critical judgment has also suffered. We no longer know how we really feel or what it is that we truly believe.
While patients struggle to describe the experiential nature of their health issues, they have no problem at all reciting medical doctrine regarding those illnesses. A patient tells me that his leg pain is due to nerve impingement at the fifth lumber vertebrae, but is at a loss for words when I ask him to describe what type of pain it is. Another patient tells me that she is tired because she is not getting enough REM sleep, but can’t recall the dramatic dream she had two nights ago because she didn’t think it was important enough to commit to memory. It has become far too easy to rationalize away our feelings and experiences.
A doctor can’t describe the intimate details of a particular patient’s depression but he can explain the supposed neurochemical mechanism that causes depression. Patients routinely report the results of lab tests, their diagnoses, and the dosages of drugs they take, but they struggle to describe their actual symptoms.
We have become so wrapped up in theory and explanation that we have lost the ability to simply acknowledge what is. We have lost touch with direct experience. This is what I refer to as the death of experience. It is the hallmark of our time. As a culture, we have become adept at overriding experiential reality in favor of the latest theories proposed by the sciences.
The death of experience inevitably leads to devaluation of personal knowledge, which in turn leads to both loss of personal autonomy and greater reliance upon external sources of authority. A parent learns, therefore, to ignore intuition and accepts the doctor’s reassurances, allowing her daughter to be vaccinated for the umpteenth time, in disregard of the fact that she ran a high fever and became very ill after the last vaccination.
Medicine is not the only factor responsible for the death of experience. We can spend time alone in our living spaces, sometimes for days, without once stepping foot outside. We have television and computers to occupy and pacify our minds. We don’t need to know the position of the sun in the sky because we have clocks to tell us the time of day. We travel in encapsulated vehicles, protected from the elements. We communicate via technology, sometimes never seeing friends or family for years on end. Modern civilization is decidedly insulated from nature. And the further we are from nature, the further we get from ourselves.
We drink coffee to wake up, alcohol to relax at the end of the day, and take pills to fall asleep. It is fair to say that society has adopted an anesthetic approach to life. We have a smorgasbord of pills to blot out anxiety, anger, sadness, and all forms of physical discomfort. Modern medicine is but a reflection of modern culture, which encourages us to live in a chronic state of avoidance, isolated from humanity, insulated from nature, in a diminished state of awareness, anesthetized from suffering, and in a pervasive state of denial regarding many aspects of our lives. Both medicine and culture share the same basic coping strategy—and that strategy is suppression.
As we slowly sink into an anesthetic haze, we increasingly turn responsibility for our lives over to persons and entities other than ourselves. In essence, we exchange ownership of personal experience for the false promise of comfort and security. Once the transfer has been made, and the “experts” are in control, not only do those promises ring hollow, but it also becomes increasingly difficult to take control of our lives once again.
The outcome of so much dissociation and denial must inevitably be compromised health. Not only do we not know how we feel or what it is that is wrong with us, but we have also ceded control of potential solutions to outside forces whose objectives do not necessarily coincide with our best interests.
Which brings us back to homeopathy. After all, it is not necessary to surrender to the depersonalizing nature of Western medicine. There are viable alternatives and, in my opinion, homeopathy is the most complete and effective alternative. Homeopathy is radical precisely because it is an experience-based system of healing that ultimately leads back to self-knowledge and self-empowerment. One cannot undertake homeopathic treatment without becoming more aware of mind and body. In the homeopathic world, experience is primary, and personal experience points the way toward healing.
A homeopathic practitioner is not interested in a patient’s experience of illness just because he or she is trying to project an image of caring. Patient’s descriptions and interpretations of their illnesses are required information without which the prospect of healing is unlikely. Patient and healer together must dig deep in order to read between the lines, in the hope of discovering a real solution, not just another pill to temporarily numb the pain.
Homeopathy is a powerful antidote to the anesthetic life. Homeopathy is a threat to any medical system that requires submission to a materialist agenda. While suppression ensures that patients remain dulled and dissociated, homeopathic healing promotes greater awareness and autonomy. With awareness comes greater personal responsibility. It also offers the potential for greater fulfillment and the freedom to experience life again to the fullest extent possible. Homeopathy is revolutionary because it offers a radical alternative to modern medicine and our anesthetized way of life.