Sun Spots

Kindling

The Sun is like a partner, feeding energy to the body swaying back and forth with the thrust of the branch saw. Pruned branches are cut manually with a branch saw, one of the most ingenious tools ever devised, the most simple, the most appreciated. The branch saw is small, from six to twelve inches long plus the handle, and curved, so that with every thrust you are cutting much more branch than with a straight saw. I try to cut through without stopping, even as my arms are aching and my lungs say "Stop!!" Sometimes I "win" and make it until the heavy limb sinks with a sigh to the ground. Sometimes I am not so macho and collect twigs in between bouts of muscle-building sawing.

Last May, as the joy of spring brought me outdoors for other kinds of tasks, some dark spots on my nose turned darker, almost black. Oh No, I thought, scrutinizing them in the 10X mirror I use for checking out wild hairs, No no no! But just in case, I decided to visit Helena, a para-medical dermatologist who knows more about the skin than her boss, as far as I and many of her many friends are concerned. I had only once seen a melanoma spot, and it was way blacker than mine. But maybe it started like mine, a very dark brown.

Helena could take me either in three weeks, or in exactly seven minutes. I flew down the hill and in no time my dear friend was peering at my nose with a big lens and saying, "Constance, I don't see anything to worry about. Just be sensible, and keep an eye on it." Being sensible to us means wearing light clothing in the brightest part of the day, saving outdoor work for early or late, and wearing a broad-brim hat. Neither Helena, who is a flaming red-head with translucent, super-sensitive skin, nor I ever wear sun screen. This especially gratified me, as I was prepared for the usual sun-screen speech. Our research turns up the same information: that sun screen usage and the increase of melanoma (skin cancer) are exactly proportional. This is not to say that sun screen causes the disease, but perhaps people are more brazen with the sun, considering themselves immune from its power thanks to the protection of chemicals. Chemicals do not protect us from stupidity or the power of the sun. Besides, both my dermatologist and I enjoy the natural living so prevalent here in our high desert. Many of us, especially single women, live in simple cabins and live "green" way before the term was invented. We live like queens, with the luxury of freedom royalty never had. We live in and love in the sun.

Staying out of the full sun in daytime June through August is a no-brainer, so I lose some spring tan. Toward the middle of August I remembered to check the spots on my nose and ... where are they? They were gone! I'd completely forgotten about it. I said a prayer of thanks. Even though the vitiligo spots on my face are a map all over the map this year, I am so grateful it is only vitiligo. They are also in new areas of my body --on my shins, more spread out on my hands and arms, and some random spots on my back.

I live in California because of the sun. Although it triggers this "auto-immune" condition called vitiligo, it is the deep Healer of my days and of my soul. It is the giver of life to my awakenings, my moods that tend to depression when I allow myself to get out of balance. A book I discovered on healing with light* makes total sense to me. It brought an exquisite awareness of all the ways my being can savor the Sun, drink it in with my cells and my consciousness, letting its supreme love fill my heart with warmth and connection with the peaceful earth where I live.

*Light: Medicine of the Future, by Jacob Liberman, O.D., Ph.d.