28 Mar Did you eat your humble pie today?
Sit down, let’s talk a bit.
Would you like some humble pie before we start?
I think I’ll have some myself … heck, I need some … it’s quite bittersweet … bitter when it first hits the lips, but tastes good in the end …
At Barefoot Rehab, we claim to fix people’s annoying and frustrating pains.
We, I mean I (Dr. Chris), like to think that I’m good at helping people who are hurting.
But sometimes, I don’t help their pain at all.
Let me explain …
One of my mentors is on the path of a spiritual healer.
In awe, I observe him as he deals with the pain and suffering that has occurred to him in life, stemming back from early childhood. With grace, he deals with each moment by making it to the next moment, as ugly or as pretty as it may be. The path that he walks has allowed him to touch a deep wisdom that rings true to the people who need his medicine.
When he talks, it’s as if he has nothing to prove. The words come out from a place of experience and a desire to share what’s helped him. Not from trying to be any false identity.
There’s no forcing his words down anyone’s throat. He’s fully comfortable not speaking at all and knows that if people don’t want to listen, he might as well not speak.
Energetically, he rarely leans forward or sways back, he’s always standing right where he is.
Among the most common phrases in between his messages filled deep with meaning is:
I don’t know.
I first heard him say “I don’t know” and I thought to myself “It sure sounds like he knows, that stuff is gold!”
Upon further examination, I recalled that this really wise guy named Socrates had said:
All I know is that I know nothing.
This healer was nudging this itch in me that I’d been hiding.
Do I think I know too much?
Maybe, I really don’t know?
Is all this knowing a suit of armor to protect me from something? But what? Is it ego? Or conditioning taught to me by the society I live in?
What’s the cost of knowing (or thinking that I know)?
Maintaining the energetic stance of knowing it all meant that I haven’t been open to possibilities. Lessons would be harder to learn, if at all. Instead of flowing easily with the river, I was the stubborn Westerner who was fighting against the current.
Sacha Baron Cohen of Ali G fame used to open up his skits with:
Check yourself before your wreck yourself!
If you’re curious about what Ali G had to ask Donald Trump, watch the 2 minute video below:
Hearing “I don’t know” and connecting the dots to the philosophers of old, I started realizing that I don’t really ever check myself to stay on a path of humility and grace. Thinking I have all of the answers means that I don’t stay open to the universe’s signs. Because “I know”, I don’t breathe the air of curiosity and wonder.
The cost is detachment from the ways of serendipity.
One of my employees made a mistake in forgetting to schedule Verizon to install the internet at our new office.
I was upset at her.
Checking myself, I looked into the mirror and thought:
Chris, when was the last time you got mad at YOURSELF for forgetting to do something that you needed to do?
EVERY … SINGLE … DAY!
And I beat myself with a metaphorical mace until I can barely move or do anything, literally. Hence, the depression that at times, causes me to open my eyes, first thing in the morning and I think to myself:
Why bother doing anything today?
“I don’t know” led to checking myself, which gives me the gift of:
Chris, have a little compassion for yourself the way you would for that 4 year-old girl who just came to your house to buy some girl-scout cookies.
You wouldn’t beat her with the mace, so stop doing it to yourself.
Chill the fuck out Chris.
At Barefoot Rehab, we don’t help everyone.
There are many good chiropractors, physical therapists, massage therapists, and other doctors who can help people. The thought of people suffering finding doctors they love brings a smile to my face as I write this.
Spooning more humble pie into my mouth, what I offer you now is what we doo-doo (LOL) …
At Barefoot Rehab:
We diagnose the parts and pieces of musculoskeletal pain because it allows us to stack the odds to getting you out of pain.
We fix the adhesion part and piece because it’s something not a lot of doctors or therapists do (although they’re good at other things) and if we’re going to get out of bed in the morning for a reason, we want it to be for something that someone else can’t easily do.
We hug you because we don’t know when the last time you were hugged was.
We tell you within 5 visits or less when the treatment isn’t working so that you don’t have to waste your time, energy, or money.
We offer you chocolate almonds because we want to make you smile.
We love you because, well, what else matters?