It occurred to me that there was no useful reason to take in more about loving kindness and sit on the cushion for too long. After 11 years of searching for inner peace, which now goes by the umbrella term "healing," the miracle seemed to have taken place. I had learned to like myself.
It wasn't until I had a whopper of a breakdown in 2003 that I even recognized that maybe, just maybe, the centre was not holding (to quote W.B. Yeats). Here that meltdown is recounted in an e-book you can download free Download Geezerguts.
What happened in those 11 years to generate the internal shift? Hell, if I know. I will probably never know. The few things I might have done right included dumping, pronto, people, places, and things which made me feel less-than, pissed off, or old. Collectively, I label that "the wreckage of the past."
I decided to enjoy them. We meet up with plenty of people, other canines, interesting architecture, and recreational vehicles sticking out of driveways. Yesterday, I asked the owner about the latter. He gave me an earful. Surprisingly I loved hearing about something which has nothing to do with my work.
Perhaps the best definition of "healing" is simply breaking open to life, as it is. Part of that life is bringing in income, but only a part.