Holistic Healing for Migraine, Tension and Depression

Live Holistically is a multi-author site.
This post was written by: Carol Webb

I live in the middle of seven and a half acres of land, and as the sun rises it’s light falls on the monuments left by bereaved families, in remembrance of their loved ones. Statues of Angels, weather worn Gothic crosses and plain marble slabs have all become a part of this verdant landscape. Ivy lovingly clings to vandalized stone, as if to bind up the open wounds left by those that care not for the history of this Victorian homage to death.

It is a place of peace and tranquility, where people come and stand, quietly reading the potted obituaries of those long passed. A devoted mother who died in childbirth, “Her duty done,” lays next to a soldier of the first world war, who also died doing his duty. An idyllic spot of long grasses, wild flowers and Linden trees leaning at obtuse angles. Squirrels play in the branches, Magpies screech and the old black Crows caw caw to one another in the warm afternoon.

Spring comes and the grasses grow, and no-longer can people meander between the graves, the stones have disappeared, grasses peppered with out of control Horseradish have covered them. This environment is heaven for the many butterflies that lay their eggs on stands of luscious nettle and feed from the nectar pots of the Red Clover.

But storm clouds are brewing, there has been a complaint to the local newspaper. They sent a reporter to take a picture and published it with the heading: “Churchyard Disgrace.” The church authorities were galvanized into action, out came the strimmers. Each one operated by a youth covered in overalls and eyes shrouded in goggles. The noise was both grating and devastating. I begged them to stop. My whole body screamed in agony as the hellish vibration caused migraine headaches, tension and depression.

They finished their destruction quickly. Every stone was visible, gaunt against a brown wasteland.

The rains came, and once more the grass became green and luscious and long. The church pre-empted the complaints and hired a gardener to work long hours, this time with a single strimmer, to chop away the green. He seemed to spend hours all around the house, until I could stand it no longer and complained. I was laughed at, and I was mortified.

To find out how I solved my problem and resumed my peaceful existence, read the follow-up post here.

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