I met with my naturopath yesterday. We had a good session. She prescribed some new herbs. She does love herbs. She suggested using honey on my legs to help the healing process. I just started giggling. A book I'd written had the hero in a fire and the healers used honey and blueberries on the burns. It was fun sharing. She's hoping to write a book on herbalist being burned at the stake in Europe during the Dark Ages. I've got to talk with her more on that, once I'm truly better.
I'd told her my writing was starting to feel more like a job and not a joy. She suggested I start a journal. I've tried journalling for years and hate it. Truly hate it. She suggested a Muse Journal. This got me excited.
I often decry the fact that I 'lose' some great ideas and thoughts and even words or phrases because I'm not writing them down. Used to be, my memory was great. With this illness and the myriad drugs I'm on, I'm not as good as I once was.
The journal sounds like a great idea. I used to carry a little recorder around with me. I don't know where it went in the move. I put a little notebook in my purse and I'm putting one in my car compartment today. I vow to write down all thoughts from the Muse. That should satisfy the fiend. *g*
Life is scintillating.