The Healing of the Wasichu. Was a step into the unknown. Readers of my first two books wanted to know what happened next. I was traced down via Facebook and asked for updates. That was incredibly humbling. I was just an ordinary guy from Newcroft in Weedon. And in my heart I still am. I have that child’s brain in a much larger tattooed body.
Well by an incredible amount of coincidences I found myself in the mountains of Arizona. Or some may say fate. I was the other side of the breakdown, but still struggling. I found myself finding peace in the mountains and deserts of Arizona.
I wandered the rocks talking to the animals and whoever crossed my path. It was there that I first encountered the wonderful natives of that land. Wasichu is a Native American word for white man. At that point I was so white I was almost transparent.
The next part of my recovery began. At the time I didn’t even know it. It proved that I needed people and humans to survive. I again marched forward seeing the funny side of everything.
