Day 83: Homeopathological

I am on the coolest remedy right now. If you don't know about homeopathics, I'll probably make a total hack of it. But it's basically woo woo meets science and, therefore, I frickin' love it.

Homeopathic remedies are super-diluted forms of minerals or plants – so dilute only the vibration, or memory, of the substance remains. Drea or my friend Erin (who owns the clinic) would probably describe it better, but how I think about it is this: The remedy has a certain vibration and we respond to that vibration on a deep, energetic level, and then manifest changes on a physical one. (If you've watched What The Bleep Do We Know?! and paid attention to the section on Dr. Masaru Emoto you know what I'm talking about.)

I went to see Dr. Pow – his real name, as in Ka-POW! – because I hadn't seen him in a long, long time and Drea told me the clinic just received a bunch of new remedies specifically for artists. I sat down with Dr. Ka-POW, high-fived him for drinking a green smoothie and looked at his crazy new chart.

The chart classifies the elements on the periodic table into several series, representing different life themes (self-worth, relationships, creativity) and various stages of those themes, from early development through maturity and decline.

The silver series is all about creativity, art and science – a no-brainer for yours truly. The challenge was to figure out what stage I fit into. The early stage remedies dealt with fear and self-doubt. Been there, done that. And the peak stages were about mastery and success. That ain't me, babe. Yet.

We determined I was at Stage 6: a period of oscillating between fear and a sense of inevitability. I have to finish this book, but I'm afraid to...and back and forth. People at this stage know exactly what needs to be done, but there is anxiety about doing it. We know that our work will be good, but we're fearful of the yucky middle bits until it is. The remedy is Molybdenum and, if all goes well, it will help me put fear aside and get on with the work.

Within moments of taking it, I got a rush of clarity about a scene I was struggling with. I felt calm and happy, confident that I would be able to write it the way it needed to be written. I got home and wrote a hilarious bit about a woman losing her lesbian virginity, obsessing all the while over her unwaxed bikini line.

I had a great night with Boyfriend, talking, laughing and enjoying his company – rather than questioning every single moment as though it was an omen for future events. It's embarrassing that I do this, but I do. If our senses of humour aren't jiving one night, I'll take that to mean we don't understand each other and never will. It's neurotic and I do it pretty much every day with my writing and my relationships. Not last night. I was in the moment and enjoying whatever happened without fear and overanalysis.

You skeptics are shaking your heads and screaming PLACEBO at the computer screen. I can hear you. (Hi Mom!) And maybe it is all in my head. But, seriously, what isn't all in your head? The idea of aligning my vibrations with my work and purpose makes me happy down to my electrons. And besides, I wrote a scene involving the words "Seventies bush." This is my brain on Molybdenum. God help us all.