2. Zen in the art of dangling

Every morning I climbed down into the pool, every morning I shivered as i entered the cold (28C!) water. Grimaced as the weight of my body coaxed my twisted spine and memory locked muscles towards their long lost healthy curve. Sighed as I resigned myself to another boring hour.

There is no order of difficulty in miracles. One is not "harder" or "bigger" than another (ACIM)

You may well ask why I persisted on this course. I was convinced that nothing I had done thus far had had the desired effect (and I promise you I had tried many talented healers and therapists). I was all out of smart ideas. One year lying on my back had hit me with a tidal wave of despair (topped off with the spume of providence) and given me the humility to trust someone else and follow their guidance.

It was humiliating and annoying to drag my sorry arse into that pool each morning. My self image had never been outstanding, but being the modern day incarnation of the Hunchback of Notre Dame took me to a new low. I had become familiar with the pattern of a brief improvement with a new treatment preceding a subsequent relapse. It was different with the hanging and floating.

Healing was slow and barely perceptible. Some times the only way I knew it was helping was when I missed a day and the slight relief I experienced late in the day was reduced. My osteopath had told me that I needed to forget doing any work for at least a year and that I would never be able to lift heavy weights again. Some big lessons I hadn't wanted to learn, but was learning now, were about commitment, surrender and patience.

Now the best part of a year is a long time to be floating daily for an hour in a swimming pool. Boredom, resentment, ennui, burning tingling nerve pain, envy, funny stories, dull muscular aches, anger, whining self pity, floated in and drifted away again. Did I mention total despair, devastation, depression and self hatred? Some of these stayed for days or weeks, some for a minute and a few, (usually the best, most poignant, profound or witty) would flicker and wane in the blink of an eyelid.

For some years I had had a morning practice. I'd gone through phases of affirmation, divination, of moaning, complaining and petitioning the lord with prayer. What some called daily meditation I renamed sitting down and worrying about stuff- and I was a skilled proponent. Now I'm not really a  slouch when it comes to the inner journey, I had learnt, practiced and taught psychological and spiritual healing techniques, energy work, Ho'oponopono and more. Not to mention taken more mind expanding drugs than you could shake a stick at.

Every step that you take could be your biggest mistake, It could bend or it could break, That's the risk that you take (Coldplay)

But physical pain has undoubtedly been one of the best teachers I have had. Years earlier, I had learned to observe, dis-identify with and release the debilitating pain of migraine headaches. With this the practice intensified. The stakes were higher. The material I had to work with was better than ever. I had little more to lose and somewhat more to gain.

I had hours and hours and hours (and hours) of time to spare and nothing better to do with it than to relax, focus on the breath, deeply accept the (apparent) fact of chronic physical, emotional and spiritual pain. To recognise the relationship between these different levels of human experience. To see the process of healing unfolding inside me in a more profound, practical and prosaic way than ever before.

And to watch people swim.

1. How it began

Don't take for granted the touch of a child's hand and the trust they invest in you

Ok, so it didn't actually begin here, but things never do begin where we think they do, do they? And since this is a story, I can be less than exact, not so much with 'facts', as with details.

Some years ago, I forget how many,  for my memory isn't what it used to be. I found myself unable to walk, stand, lift anything (including my beautiful and, at that time, tiny kids) or do very much except lie on my back. This sorry state continued for about 8 to 10 months.

I tried almost every type of therapy you can think of, from a long course of daily traditional Chinese acupuncture, Chakra healing, massage therapy, chiropractic, psychotherapy, energy healing,  hot baths, ice packs, visualisations, rest and many more besides.

Various pain killers didn't even touch the pain, which was chronic, debilitating and constant. Because of my commitment to total abstinence from mind altering chemicals, I kicked them into touch. My spine had organised itself with the help of my core muscles into an antalgesic scoliosis which made me walk like Quasimodo and gave me virtually no vertical stability.

Finally, I even went to a 'conventional' NHS doctor, so intense was the pain and so deep my desperation, to request a scan. This eventually came and I only had to wait 12 weeks, because I was self employed and had 4 dependents.

The MRI scan showed two prolapsed discs and after waiting some more weeks to see a spinal specialist, I was offered an injection of steroids and painkillers into my spine. Serious side effects, very little chance of long term success and an abiding mistrust in the medical and pharmaceutical industries in their present form led me to continue the search for an alternative.

At this time I started to see a cranial osteopath who told me to go to my local pool and hang vertically with a float under my armpits to encourage my spine to vertically extend. I was to allow the core muscles to weaken at the same time to relax their grip (so no physio or pilates etc). I hung at the pool every morning for a year or more.

Progress was slow- on leaving the pool, I was in so much pain I would have to sit down at least once on the 100m walk to my car. After 4 months I began to feel some slight relief and with 4 weekly visits to my osteo. After about 8 months I walked for the first time for an hour without turning grey, sweating and being unable to do other than constantly think about my back.