Free The Tenth Insight: Holding the Vision by James Redfield

from about thirty feet away. I froze as she walked
     toward me.
    “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice concerned but wary. She was a tall black woman, perhaps forty, dressed in loose-fitting
     sweat clothes and tennis shoes. Strands of dark hair hadpulled out of her ponytail and dangled in the breeze above her temples. In her hand was a small green knapsack.
    “I was sitting over there and saw you fall,” she said. “I’m a doctor. Do you want me to take a look?”
    “I’d appreciate that,” I said dizzily, not believing the coincidence.
    She knelt down beside me and moved the foot gently, at the same time surveying the area toward the creek. “Are you out here
     alone?”
    I told her briefly about looking for Charlene, but left out everything else. She said she had seen no one of that description.
     As she talked, finally introducing herself as Maya Ponder, I became convinced that she was completely trustworthy. I told
     her my name and where I lived.
    When I finished, she said, “I’m from Asheville, although I have a health center, with a partner, a few miles south of here.
     It’s new. We also own forty acres of the valley right here that joins the National Forest.” She pointed to the area where
     we were sitting. “And another forty acres up the ridge to the south.”
    I unzipped a pocket on my hiking pack and pulled out my canteen.
    “Would you like some water?” I asked.
    “No thanks, I have some.” She reached inside her own pack, retrieved a canteen, and opened the top. But instead of drinking,
     she soaked a small towel and wrapped my foot, an action that made me grimace in pain.
    Turning and looking into my eyes, she said, “You’ve definitely sprained this ankle.”
    “How badly?” I asked.
    She hesitated. “What do you think?”
    “I don’t know. Let me try to walk on it.”
    I attempted to stand, but she stopped me. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Before you try to walk, analyze your attitude. How badly
     do you think you’re hurt?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean that very often your recuperation time depends on what
you
think, not me.”
    I looked down at the ankle. “I think it could be pretty bad. If it is, I’ll have to get back to town somehow.”
    “What then?”
    “I don’t know. If I can’t walk, I may have to go find someone else to look for Charlene.”
    “Do you have any idea why this accident happened now?”
    “Not really. Why does that matter?”
    “Because, again, very often your attitude about why an accident or illness has happened has an effect on your recuperation.”
    I looked at her closely, well aware that I was resisting. Part of me felt as though I didn’t have time for this discussion
     right now. It seemed too self-involved for the situation. Although the hum had ceased, I had to assume that the experiment
     was continuing. Everything felt too dangerous and it was almost dark… and Charlene could be in terrible trouble for all I
     knew.
    I was also aware of a deep sense of guilt toward Maya. Why would I feel guilty? I tried to shake off the emotion.
    “What kind of doctor are you?” I asked, sipping some water.
    She smiled, and for the first time I saw her energy lift. She had decided to trust me too.
    “Permit me to tell you about the kind of medicine I practice,” she said. “Medicine is changing, and changing rapidly. We don’t
     think of the body as a machine anymore, with parts that eventually wear out and have to be fixed or replaced. We’re beginning
     to understand that the health of the body is determined to a greatdegree by our mental processes: what we think of life and especially of ourselves, at both the conscious and the unconscious
     levels.
    “This represents a fundamental shift. Under the old method the doctor was the expert and healer, and the patient the passive
     recipient, hoping the doctor would have all the answers. But we know now that the inner attitude of the patient is crucial.
     A key factor is fear