michaelsharrington (Hridayam)

Climbing the stairs has become part of what I call my newly developed E.S.P. or Everest Simulation Program. Humor is the saving grace. Laughter, and smiles, help to keep things light. Reduction of once robust physical vitality can no longer lead to gloom and doom as I stay ever vigilant and earnestly inquire and investigate any trance states that appear.

          Chronic health debilitation can be a godsend; truly all that transpires is a pointer back to our Essential Nature. Chronic body dysfunctions can actually be a grace, helping to remove the deepest belief of them all: the “I am the body” idea.

          There’s nothing like adding an acute condition to a chronic one (or is the acute condition only an aspect of the chronic one which has gone acute?!). In the last week an abscessed tooth has flared up. A fine workman with as good a service record as any, tooth Number-3 (all teeth are numbered) deserves a special letter of commendation. His epithet will read:

          “For well-over 40 years Number 3 served his Dental Squadron with a selfless sense of chew, always breaking up his fair share of fibrous detritus. Though his early affinity for sugar contributed to his demise, let it be noted that when 3 root canal grenades containing dangerous anaerobic bacteria gases exploded in said mouth, Number 3 stayed at his post thus saving the lives of most of his regiment.” Yes, I give all my teeth eulogies.

          I spoke with my new oral surgeon’s secretary. Oral surgeon is much better than ‘barber-surgeon, the term used in the 18th century to denote the guy who extracted teeth during the day and cut hair at night.

The secretary-assistant found a spot. I exclaimed gleefully,

          “I am so glad you could fit me in!” It is strange how ecstatic one get over an impending tooth extraction. This shows pain is not the natural state.

I got straws in order and my blender at the ready. The days of adult baby food loomed. This marks the 8th tooth soldier to leave the arena, counting the 4 impacted wisdom teeth that left all at once nearly 40 years ago.

I shall enjoy reverie of one of my favorite comedy scenes, that of Peter Sellers and Herbert Lom in the – “The Pink Panther Strikes Again”- where Seller pretends to be a dentist and pulls the wrong tooth.

I will finish this short blog with a couple of quotes from my book regarding the importance of the dental sphere.

“A hundred years ago dentistry was held in the same esteem as Western Medicine. It was generally understood that oral health was a significant factor in overall wellness. Current research confirmed this. The dentin tubules behind the teeth are like an entire universes of tiny blood vessels that can reverse flow (for example when sugar is added). These tubules, an important and misunderstood aspect of the immune system, can turn into toxin highways – allowing focal infection a route into the systemic circulation.”

          I will end with a tear of profound gratitude and a quote from my pioneering former dentist, Andrew (Andy) Landerman-who passed away some years ago.

          “You know in my experience 90 % of all chronic disease comes from the mouth. 100% of all breast cancer I have seen in my practice has been related to oral infections.” (mostly root canal, but also metal issues and cavitation infections).

This statement has been corroborated by Thomas Rau M.D., who runs the Parcelsus Clinic in Switzerland who found (in appx 2011) that of the last 150 breast cancer patients treated at his clinic, 147 of them (98%) had one or more root canal teeth on the same meridian as the original breast cancer tumor. (Teeth have a a proven, correlative-energy system as well).

I have a friend who has been wracked with visions from a past life. He truly believes he was formerly a Nazi dentist. I’m putting my money on the LSD therapy he tried in the 70’s. You know, the one where during the protocol he attempted to strangle his therapist mid-session.That went well.

          He’s nearly 70 now and we met at a spiritual gathering in 2009. The lead teacher, it seemed, was helping many people with past life issues and Jesus problems. This is not why I went. Does anyone know why I went?! Anyway, the misfit Christian’s flocked to this teacher like Santa’s toys trying to get into the Elf workshop. Most of these Christians no longer believed in the mainline religious doctrine and dogma and still loved Jesus the Christ just fine. 

          So they came to this spiritualist to recover their faith. And the spiritual advisors of today must be part priest, witch doctor, exorcist, past life regressionist and shrink – to deal with modern man’s vast array of delusional impulses, emotional freeze and psychotic episodes. This is why, with all the money, fame and spiritual hero worship, a new profession is exploding: Spiritual Teacher (with no religious affiliation).

          The Nazi dentist, past life thing felt truly real to my friend, torturing at times based on our conversations. Besides the inner demons (thoughts)-which made up his whole so-called problem, my friend’s outer waking life showed no negative correlative karma—in the dental arena at least.

          I’m starting to wonder, however, if I wasn’t his dental assistant back then. Though not rocked by torturous thoughts and visions of unnecessary dental procedures and experiments inflicted on people, the actual fact is: this mouth has been pounded, beaten and yanked upon, and bled. Time to call the oral surgeon. He’ll fit me in and add some torque to an already, as he said ‘difficult extraction process’.

          Recently old tooth number 3, stewing in a botched root canal, did not go quietly. Drilled into 3 pieces to match his 3 roots, chiseled, hammered, drilled again and again. Did I mention tugged? At one point the oral surgeon, a sweetheart of a guy by the way, I’m sure was going to put his feet on my chest for more leverage ala Peter Sellers (as Closeau) in the original Pink Panther movies. 

          Even with all the modern equipment, extracting an FN tooth is still a battle. When Number 3 finally left, not so much as a whimper was heard…but Did he leave any depth charges behind? You know, babies: necrotic bone potholes, bits of residual periodontal ligament or other pissed off brethren. Next time I go under the dental knife, it’s definitely half a fifth of JD and a pair of pliers-I’ll pull it myself!

          So instead of a quick recovery, I am into what is called: Dry Socket. They say it happens somewhat rarely, normally during the wisdom tooth extraction process and takes place when an improper blood clot forms exposing the bone underneath. 

          Holy shit batman; Misty Migraine marries Stanley Steroid!

          Dry Socket is a Native American name for a pet feral cat you never see and never want to see again. Dry Socket, my feline friend laughed at Advil; thought Tylenol was catnip. Until it received some upper level help from the Grandfathers off the Opiate Clan, I was astral-projecting forgiveness prayers to the dead Shaman the one I badmouthed 20 years ago for trying to sleep with all his female students.

          “Take the arrows out of Mikey Doll’s face, jaw, neck and head–Oh pretty please. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll add. “You can sleep with her now.”

          The truth is: One moment at a time. No mind story, just sensation. No labels: ‘pain’, ‘nausea’ – just breath. Otherwise a dramatic mess starts with “I” am in pain. “I” this and that. But if there’s no “I” thought story, then what?!

          “But I could vomit any minute.” “I” again. Who or what is “I”? Tracing it back with inquiry, no “I” is found. No “I” was ever there. Migraine, nausea are only associative labels added on to continue the false narrative. Tracing back… to the source of “I”- “I” is gone, never there, ending in SOURCE, what always is our true nature.