Yogi Bhajan once said that a difference between people today and people of ancient times is that back then, folks were scared of getting ill, and took up regular practices to avoid it; today we don’t fear illness, and so we don’t take care of ourselves. Today when we get sick, we enter the Illness Marketplace. Our drug store aisles are filled with so many medications we don’t know what to take. They all compete with each other to be the “best” medication. But how can medication ever be the “best”? Illness is illness, medicine is medicine, right?
Once medicine goes on the market, disease follows. On the television we can watch ads for medications that hail us by our illnesses: Do you have these symptoms? These? These? If we have the illness, we can be a customer. If not, then maybe the next pill will call us by name. This is the point we get to: we shop for medication first, hoping we have the right symptoms to qualify to take it. What really needs to change is our intake of poison: the poison of stress, the poison of dishonesty, the poison of the quick-fix mentality. But some of us love our poisons, and can’t imagine that they could ever harm us. Some of us believe it’s a greater harm to have our diseases taken away than to keep taking the poison.
So we have a million ways to get ill now; but there’s only one way to be healthy, and that’s sadhana. Sadhana is a daily practice of sitting with your soul and making friends. It is the ultimate medication because it treats the whole being, mind, body and soul. And so we sit and meditate, and clear the karmas that would have manifested in illness if allowed to do so. We watch what goes in and out of our bodies. We watch what we say, see, and do. Sadhana is a daily purification.
Recently, a friend of ours who was on the list for a liver transplant, who was on daily morphine for liver pain years ago, incapacitated, near death, got called in to her doctor’s office to review her latest test results. Her doctor was astounded to see that her liver had healed itself by cordoning off the illness in one of its lobes, diverting major organ functions to the remaining lobe. She was, as far as this doctor could see and verify, cured. She didn’t bother telling him that, in the years since getting ill, she had been healing herself daily with kundalini yoga. She didn’t bother telling him that she had healed herself by cultivating forgiveness and combating anger, which is the liver’s main emotion. She didn’t bother to tell him that she never needed a transplant because she had discovered that real healing comes from within, and flows through everything we do in life. She knew this doctor had no ears to hear it; and that telling him or the modern quick-fix medical establishment he represents, the modern human who has no fear of disease, who courts it like a lover, would do no good at all.
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