I visited a nutritionist after work, whom had studied in India and knew more about you than you knew about yourself by a simple blood test and an eye exam, or so they said. I was skeptical, but am a lot more skeptical with western medicine, vowing never to take pills. I figured the worst that can happen is a wasted 100 bucks.
When I walked into her office, I was expecting a clean bill of health, maybe a sign that I had been drinking more water and exercising more than when I was fatter. Overall, a sign that I didn't need a plan and that I was on the right track.
She drew some blood from my finger, and took a picture of my eye with this fancy camera. And then came the prognosis: My initial expectation couldn't have been farther from the truth.
I won't divulge all of my nasty details but I will say that she told me I had severe circulation problems because of my digestive system.
On that screen, dozens of brown lines and shapes in my eyes detailed my health history in the blink of an eye (no pun intended) (ok, it was).
She'd point to a part of my iris and asked if I'd been in an accident, saying that a certain discoloration meant my left knee was injured and still hurt. That was the knee that I hit in my first car accident. That weird dark spot on the southwest part of my iris? Snowboarding accident. Nothing got passed her. I had the sudden urge to take this picture along with me and show it off as I would a battle scar.
The part that shocked me the most was when she pointed to northernmost part of my iris. She told me I was depressed. That a certain situation in my life was preventing me from being as happy as I wanted to be. That it involved a masculine entity.
What I thought would be a routine health check became a short therapy session with the Sylvia Brown of natural medicine.
My skepticism withered away. I knew, for a long time, what was bothering me. My mothers' relationship with my stepfather had been eating away at me for years. But I had no clue to what role it was playing in my physical well-being until now. I had always believed the soul cries out and the body reacts, but it was much more eye-opening(I had to sneak that one in) to see it manifested so palpably.
It had taken her less than an hour to know me in so many ways without as much as a drop of my blood and a snapshot of my eyes.
The problem's out in the open, so now healing can begin.
Never did the phrase 'The eyes are the windows to the soul' ring more clearly than today.
