A Testament To The Tenacity of Life

As a testament to the tenacity of life, an individual lotus can live a thousand years. Rooted in mud, the bud rises again and again from a watery bed to blossom once more in the light of a new day. It sloughs off all traces of murky slumber in the mire of it’s origins, and a hundred petals splay themselves to receive the kiss of an energy emanating from 150 million kilometers away.

~ S

Now You See It, Now You Don’t

Now You See It, Now You Don’t

The 4th of July holiday weekend rolled around and I was invited to a party at Mountain Island Lake at the home of a successful chiropractor. The party was well attended, and I knew a handful of the twenty or thirty people there. A group of us were on a large deck over a dock that also served as a shelter for a couple of boats moored underneath. It was a beautiful day, the conversation was light, the weather was warm and could have been hot if not for the shade, the breeze, and the lake. My cool beverage ran out and I went in for another, and to use the facilities.

In the kitchen, I overheard someone sharing their experience of a recent knee surgery. He was on crutches and there was some swelling around his knee. I’d asked if he’d considered healing energy work and he confessed to never having heard of it. I don’t recall exactly what I said, but he reached out to feel the energy from my hands and the woman of the house was also present and asked to feel the energy, then she asked if I would work on her mother. I said sure and she went to get her.

In the living room, I was introduced to a slender, older Italian woman, possibly in her mid-eighties who, as I recall did not speak much English. Her daughter pulled the back of the collar of the woman’s blouse back a bit to show me a lump on her back the size of half a grapefruit under the skin. It was on the right side about at the bottom of the shoulder blade.

She and I sat in the living room on a couple of dining chairs facing each other, the daughter left to tend to guests, and I began moving energy in her mother’s hands. I went slow and made sure we both stayed connected and present with the work. Some people tend to drift off in their imagination when I do the work, but that doesn’t help at all. I prefer people not do that. I avoid any hint of hypnosis or mesmerism in my work.

I continued to work on the woman’s hands, wrists, forearms, and then feet, ankles, and calves. I had worked on her maybe 10 minutes or so, when the daughter came in and pulled the woman’s collar back, peered down the back of her blouse and announced, “It’s gone.”

I got up and looked and sure enough, it was gone.  

I smiled and sat down and after the women left the room I remained there a few minutes quietly contemplating what had just happened. A few minutes later an older Italian man came hurriedly through the room. He turned and tried to scowl at me on his way towards the front door. He opened the door and waited for the older woman I’d worked on to catch up and he escorted her out. 

I think he was pretending to be angry but was actually happy for his wife to have been healed. I guess it was miraculous by any standards and could throw anyone off, but I was sort of getting used to miraculous healings. My problem was I was still trying to figure it out. I say problem but being analytical about this has it’s plus points if you don’t go overboard or draw conclusions too soon. 

Something else here, when you walk away from something like this and try to tell others about it, it doesn’t really carry well. It’s like putting water in a wicker basket. You give it to someone and the water is gone. The people I knew at the party were aware of Quantum Touch and Reiki and other healing techniques, but you sit down at a table on a deck ten feet over a couple of boats on the water of a beautiful lake at a 4th of July party and when you’re asked what took you so long and you say you did some energy healing and you’re asked how’d it go and you say a lump the size of a salad bowl disappeared in ten minutes, the people there smile like they are wondering how many beers you’ve had and change the subject. 

I guess if it’s meaningful to you you’ll get something out of it if not, it doesn’t hold water. Maybe most miracles are meant to be private affairs. No need to dilute their gift by trying to get others to believe them. 

Something else, about coming to conclusions; a friend once said that a conclusion is when you get tired of thinking about something. I laughed at that. It sounds absurd, but there’s a lot of truth to it. Could it be the reason we do it is to avoid not knowing? To avoid the mystery of life? Imagine what life would be like if we just accepted and lived the mystery, and stayed present to the continuous unfolding of the miracle of life?