Combing my hair had never been a big deal. But over time it became increasingly difficult to raise my arm enough to use a comb. Gradually the immobility began affecting both shoulders. I had been praying about my natural health and wholeness as God’s spiritual idea. I denied I was made of matter or vulnerable to it. And I expected freedom. But the opposite was happening.
One morning, as I made a painful effort with the comb, I noticed in the mirror the expression on my face. I was startled. In a flash, I recognized that agonized expression from a woman on a TV ad of years ago. The ad was selling a drug promising to bring some relief to this condition. I hadn’t thought of the ad until I saw my face presenting the same graphic expression she had when trying to comb her hair. What a wake-up call! In fact, that was the turning point. Soon I was not only combing my hair but I was swimming again with full freedom—and feeling very grateful.
How often do we think of a condition as physical when actually it may be the portrayal of a memory? We might describe the memory a mortal carries around as simply a collection of material beliefs. This can be an accumulation of impressions—some good, some not so good. Material joys and sorrows. Hopes and doubts. Expectations and frustrations. A tear might represent a recent frustration. A pain might symbolize a long-held impression, such as the way I had tucked into memory that TV ad. A friend once told me about an advertising agency that was directed by a pharmaceutical client to design ads that would “sell the disease first, then sell the drug.”
