Yesterday a mid-60s couple from Lynchburg came into our farm store and told me their story.  While I've heard countless of these, I never tire of them.

             Two years ago the husband was diagnosed with diabetes.  His wife had a rare kidney ailment.  These issues drove them into nutrition and they did a 180 turn in their food.  They quit drinking soda, quit shopping in the center aisles of the supermarket, eliminated junk food and highly processed items.

             Within 120 days, he completely reversed his diabetes diagnosis and she had no more kidney issues.

             They feel fantastic, each lost 30 pounds.  They have a sparkle in their eyes and a spring in their steps that is palpable. They were delightful to talk to and I considered it an honor to have them in the store.

             The end of the story, though, is a proverbial bummer.  They have relatives with the same issues, but nobody will listen to their story.  These relatives keep going to the doctor, the pharmacy, the orthodoxy.  "We've showed them an alternative.  Why?" the couple pleaded.

             If I had the answer to that, I'd be running circles around Tony Robbins.  But it is indeed the question of the ages, isn't it?  Change is scary.  Going against orthodoxy takes courage.  Being a maverick is lonely.  I can think of a hundred excuses why the less-traveled path, or the path to truth, is not crowded. 

             As I told them, most folks are happy as long as beer is in the fridge, the NFL is on TV, and the Kardashians are still on the cover of People magazine.  That means all is well and right in the world.  It's maddening but it's true.

             And so what do we do?  We lead by example.  We tell our stories--someone will listen (not many, but some).  We learn more so we can teach better.  And we cheerlead the folks who dare to break new ground.  We must be the wind beneath their wings. 

             This is why I have trouble getting worked up about health care, drug prices, and all the other brouhaha surrounding modern wellness--or lack thereof--in America.  Of course policy can make one path easier than the other.  But all of us seeking truth must realize that our path will never be orthodox.  It will be on the lunatic fringe; that's where we'll find answers.  This couple's story simply illustrates for the umpteenth time that solutions come from personal decisions.

             We don't have a health care crisis, Bernie.  We have a food crisis--both what we produce and how we eat.  Unless and until we deal with that, we'll never solve the current personal and statistical nightmare.

             That's why freedom is so important.  The more government injects itself into decisions, either through regulations, incentives, or information, the harder it is for folks to extricate themselves from mob-think.  The smaller the government, the less it's injected into our lives, the more liberty we have to personally think; therein lies the great advantage of freedom.

             Have you healed a disease with unorthodox methods?