I’m staring at a small white sheet filled with…ailments, diagnoses, dysfunctional states of being. Hyperthyroidism, hypothyroidism, nightmares, hypotension, hyperlipidemia, hair loss, restlessness, dry skin, eczema, Meniere’s, anger, ADHD, Autism, IBS, Cardiac arrhythmias, perceptual motor dysfunction…

The receptionist cuts a lock of my hair off from deep in the jungle that is the back of my head. The monkeys screech but don’t attack. It won’t be missed by me because I only think about what I see right in front of me; the other hairs will miss it hanging next to them, however, and so I acknowledge their loss briefly as she weighs just a small part of the thick, heavy lock she unceremoniously chopped.

I had waited for my appointment at the Glennallen Chiropractic Center and the receptionist had expressed her self-consciousness about her own small frustrations to me. It was no inconvenience to me that the ipad wasn’t connecting to the receipt printer, but for this she apologized.

“Technology just doesn’t like me today.”

“It is just one of those days where nothing works.”

But I was having the kind of day where everything worked. Actually most days worked, because I believed that they worked whether they were, in some people’s perceptions, working or not.

The receptionist is gone now. Off to the lair, no the lab, with my precious 1/8th of a lock. Farewell friends. “Vicki” is here now standing in front of me trying to decide if she should run to her next task or stay.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m hovering over you.”

Self-consciousness is being projected here. I never feel bothered by anyone’s presence. It isn’t about being bothered, it is about wanting or not. I decide I want the company. Vicki feels like good company.

“Do I check the boxes for symptoms that are old also? Ones that I’ve changed?”

“If you have moved past it and it isn’t a struggle or an effort to keep it away, then no.”

“Nightmares?”

“Are you still dealing with them?”

“No, they are gone. I got them to go away. They were there for a long time.”

“You don’t need to put them, but if you do, you’ll just get more information.”

I check the box for nightmares. I had them for many years, then, I became self-aware, did a lot of MNRI therapy, meditated, asked the spirit that followed me in my sleep to go on his own way, and then they stopped. It was simple.

I want to know what chemical/enzyme/other deficiency they come from. I know people who still have nightmares. They are just starting to heal. Like the girl this week who told me she smells: musty, sour, like wet dirt. I remember when I smelled like that too.

I read the tiny boxes. I forgot how I used to be. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome — I skip that. That’s old. It feels good to be awake finally.

“Sex drive. Right, there’s none of that! Not at all. Zero.”

“That will get better when we repair your hormone levels.”

I feel a synapse in my brain open, turn like the staircases at Hogwarts Castle, and make a new connection. From the staircase, I’m disappointed. I’ve been to this floor before. I was hoping for a dungeon with a new creature to outwit. But I’ve been here before.

I am checking boxes but my mind is still on the staircase looking at the new door. Isn’t having no sex drive a sign of advanced consciousness? Of having achieved a level of detachment from physical desires and needs? I made progress…or I am deficient in some way? I stay at the door. What is real?

Other doors are coming out of the shadows. Memory loss. I lost my memory last year for two months and I lost my memory for two years when I deconstructed the personality I stuck together haphazardly over 28 years. The personality that got me through and also got me sick. By the end of the construction, I was left to sit with the discomfort of fingers covered in drying glue, staring at my mess. Now wait. The latter was a sign of spiritual progress, wasn’t it? In the case of the former, the universe took my memories temporarily to save me from getting stuck in Europe chasing a love that was ‘at the wrong time’. The help was real. It felt out of my control.

Nightmares. I was a brave knight of the night, astral traveling to different dimensions and doing my part to save the world from harmful spirits. That’s why they were nightmares. Or…sugar?

Digestive issues. Uhhh, my soul is from a planet where they don’t eat food. A starseed? Earth food is dense and hard to digest. Or, I gave my power away to other people and my body has suffered from a depleted third chakra.

It’s stress.

It’s environmental.

There’s toxins.

I stare at the page caught between seven versions of reality. I keep checking boxes. I feel hopeful. I feel grounded. I miss…Europe…no.

Is the universe really there or is all of this just a hormone imbalance?

What is reality?

It’s nothing to fret over. It’s just a choice.

There are so many theories of everything and it is easy to get caught up in any one of them. I don’t know which one is right, and it is just as likely that none of them or all of them are. Which idea helps you and what story makes the most sense to you in each moment?

What do you want to believe?