Stealth Microbes and the Spiritual Path

Life perpetually presents spiritual journeys, whether we are willing to travel or not. The form of the journey doesn’t matter, even when we’re tempted to reject the current form! Today I cultivate gratitude for my journey—this leg and the big, messy whole—as I take my morning supplements.

The Morning Supplements

I am grateful

for this Divine Earth Medicine,
the powerful healing agents at my fingertips
so easy to take,
so lovingly and thoughtfully prepared,
clean and ethically sourced,
delivered to my doorstep.

I am grateful
for being led to healing,
and all the signs and support along the way.

I am grateful
to know I have chronic Lyme disease
and to hold
a solution.


Painful Conclusion
Lyme disease is a vast topic with a snowflakes’ palette of human presentations. For me it took five years of roving, intermittent joint pain (lumbar, sacroiliac, hip, wrists, elbows, thumbs), a dogged sense that my whole body was inflamed (visible only as puffy eyelids), slowly expanding fatigue and drifting brain fog, along with several seemingly unrelated symptoms—from floaters to food sensitivities—to clue me in that I might have chronic Lyme disease or a similar stealth microbe infection.

For several years I thought my pain was due to asking too much of my body as a massage therapist. I made changes to reduce the demands, and that was good. But it wasn’t the answer.

So I thought pain might be payment due for my body-abusing past—and in an eye-for-an-eye world that might have been just. But this is no longer an eye-for-an-eye world and I don’t have to pay for my mistakes that way.

I even had thoughts that the pain-go-round was just what it was like to be getting old in my body. Thankfully I was wrong.

My pain is due to hungry little microbes gobbling up my collagen and other good stuff in already-stressed locations, tenderized by inflammatory secretions. In other words, bacteria are pounding mallets and shaking Adolph’s meat tenderizer on my most-used joints and sitting down to dinner. By the time I figured it must be Lyme my joints were fed up, and I often felt pulled in too many directions, overburdened, conflicted and torn. This was an alert to “me,” the witness and decision-maker within, carried by my body in a way that would be hard to ignore.

A lot of research brought me to the Lyme conclusion, but four things are especially notable. The first two are what some call “coincidences.” I see them as guidance. In the context of my life, they were messages from a higher place to spur me to action.

  • In 2016 my assigned Primary Care Provider was one of very few Lyme-literate MDs in Houston. She might be the only LLMD, as this information is often played close to the vest due to the controversy around Lyme disease in the medical profession. The story is hilarious in retrospect. I called the doctor’s office and was told I needed to submit a questionnaire about my health before an appointment could be reserved. I was so offended by this perceived inconvenience that I promptly changed PCPs. Two years later, this brave doctor became my ally in the quest for a laboratory diagnosis.
  • In June of 2017, a dear client shared that her daughter had been diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease. ANY answer to explain the woman’s deteriorating health was by now a Godsend because she’d been sick for years, with doctor after doctor unable to help. I researched Lyme disease simply to support my client from a knowledgeable place. While reading, I began to wonder if Lyme might explain my own joint pain. But it seemed that most Lymies (as I like to call myself) were a lot sicker than me. Then I remembered a strange and horrible case of the flu that had arisen in my body at the end of a long week at a deer-saturated hot springs resort in the California mountains back in the fall of 2011. I’d taken a 3-hour hike through the woods on overgrown trails. When I sat down on the plane to go home, my nose began to bleed profusely. A few hours later I was sicker than a dog in every respect. I was so weak I could barely eke out a few sparely-worded emails to cancel my appointments the next day. The same day I remembered that trip, I discovered tiny insect scouts had breeched my home by way of a water pipe to the half bath sink. I assumed they were ants and placed a trap strategically.
  • Then I came across the Burrascano Symptom List. A quick once-over compelled me to fill it out for myself. This brilliant list put together many disparate symptoms I didn’t know could be connected to Lyme disease.

    Direct Download

    Via CanLyme Patient Checklist (#5)
  • The last piece was Dr. William Rawls’ book, Unlocking Lyme: Myths, Truths, and Practical Solutions for Chronic Lyme Disease.  This clear treasure trove of knowledge aimed at regular folks was instrumental for sorting through the conflicting as well as the overly technical information available. It offers hope for treatment with a reasonably-priced herbal plan that rebuilds the immune system rather than destroying it. Details, with many enlightening articles free for the reading, are here:

Also of importance is what didn’t lead me here: a positive Western blot. This antibody assay is the conventional “gold” and CDC standard to diagnose Lyme and its frequent coinfections. Dig into this unreliable beaker of laboratory worms and you’ll find out why Lyme disease is massively under-diagnosed. False negatives are the rule. False positives are possible. But my aim here is not to provide this discussion; many others are more qualified and have already done it better.

Around the same time I began the formal process of testing for Lyme Borrelia burgdorferi, which often starts with a 6-week course of antibiotics, my home was invaded by more tiny crawling insects. I wasn’t 100% sure they were ants, they were so small and fast-moving. I caught one on a piece of tape and looked it up online. As I took doxycycline for the first time, I also launched my first conscious counter-assault on the pharaoh ants, also known as pissants. It was around Halloween, the night the veil is thinnest, the night that ghosts and ghouls roam the Earth plane more freely. I was soon to be reminded that creepy crawlies rarely go easily.

There is laboratory evidence for my Lyme diagnosis. My CD57 is low, in the range associated with very active chronic Lyme infection for more than one year and (most probably) the Borrelia burgdorferi spirochete. It sank from 48 to 43 after 5 weeks of doxycycline. Whether or not low CD57 is only associated with Borrelia burgdorferi is disputed. Nearly everything about stealth microbe infections is disputed or in flux, much to the detriment of those who are infected.

Any illness is a possession of sorts; one’s body is possessed by the agent of dis-ease and turned to its purposes. Perhaps repossession is a better word. Health is repossessed by some creditor that’s lost patience and energy is garnished. But the story doesn’t have to end here.

Illness is a call to spend one’s assets more wisely in order to buy back what one owns. This always includes spiritual identity; it may also involve physical health. The Great Creator did not create puny, ailing versions of Itself. In forgetting its true inheritance, humanity opened the door to disease. When we attempt to heal ONLY the physical, we are missing the point—yet one more time. So, when we find ourselves ill, we are wise to consider the spiritual journey along with all the tools we might employ for healing the body.

I take a moment to ask the personal meaning of:

  • miniscule ants invading my home,
  • smaller still stealth bacteria invading my body,
  • these bacteria being in the form of spirochetes, a form which also killed my grandfather and, I suspect, my father,
  • being possessed by a force that opposes me.

I know the ants were my positive Western blot. (Days after receiving this insight I noticed another message: ant bodies, antibodies.) I know that my father and grandfather were good men whose illnesses became deadly due to lack of knowledge. The spirochete evokes the spiral: a symbol for oneness, how everything is connected. I know that stealth microbes are opportunistic. What possessed me to give them an opening?

Stress. Fear. The stress of fear. The fear that pushes me to work too much, because good won’t hang around while I decide when to reach for it. The fear that goads me to over-prepare lest I fail, lest anyone realize how dull and mundane I really am. The fear that whispers that mistakes once made will be repeated. The beating fear that time is ticking away. The fear that screams that things I didn’t plan are ruining my life, and for what? The fear of things I can’t control happening or not happening; that someday I may wonder if I tried hard enough, said the right words, understood enough, loved enough. The fear of wasting time, when so much is already wasted. The fear of not having enough time to tell the story of a trauma-filled past life, the novel that emerged in my consciousness at the same time the effects of the stealth microbe infection were heartily manifesting in my body. The fear of not telling the story well enough. Lines of fear marching round, through and beneath my consciousness on scent trails, carving ever-wider trenches for voracious opportunists to get in.

I know that sounds dramatic. Fear is a drama queen. Give her a line and she tries to steal the show. On the surface my life has looked as normal as it ever will. And yet, fear has been having her way with me.

The familiar fears about time—that illusionary construct that not only isn’t real, it isn’t even linear. Winding myself up in knots over time, crocheting doors for bugs and ghouls.

I take my herbs. The medicine of Mother Earth moves gently to restore all that’s gone awry. I say my prayers as I putter through chores.

I give my life to God to guide today and always.
I rule my mind, which I alone must rule.
Let every voice but God’s be still in me.
Unconditional love is the attitude and energy I choose today.

When I choose unconditional love, the Holy Spirit looks and speaks through me.
Help me to be ready, willing and able:
ready to listen, willing to learn and able to do Your will.
I will to see my teacher and myself through the eyes of truth and not of judgment.
I choose to see my teacher’s innocence; in him, or her, or it, I find myself.
Forgiveness lets me know that minds are joined.
I have no cause for anger or for fear, for You surround me.
And in every need that I perceive, Your grace suffices me.

[deep, healing breath]

Peace fills my heart, and floods my body with the purpose of forgiveness.
Father-Mother-Creator-God, Your peace envelopes me,
and I forget all things except Your Love.
(Developed from A Course in Miracles)

Passing the mirror, the face I see no longer reflects illness. Instead I see progress, and I can’t help but smile.

With Peace, Love and Joy,
Mira Carroll

For Dad, who passed from Alzheimer’s (possibly related to Lyme disease), for Sarah, who definitely suffers from Lyme disease, and for the millions of others affected.

Purchase Healing Loss paperback Healing Loss eBook

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Healing Loss: Choose Love Now by Miradrienne Carroll
outlines spiritual principles and practices
for anyone who wants to heal, at any time,
from the context of healing grief and loss.

Copyright © 2018

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One Response to “Stealth Microbes and the Spiritual Path”
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  1. […] both symbolic and an omen but wasn’t privy to the details. I assumed it was personal. Since I’m recovering from chronic Lyme disease, it seemed to be a signal that my ailing was done and I was moving forward with more peace, […]


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