It's been mentioned to me, a number of times in this lifetime, that I might be a 'healer'. I've always found myself adverse to people calling themselves this. I would certainly never go around calling myself that, even if I were to experience miracles. I'm wary of people walking around proclaiming that they 'heal' people or animals. It's always sort of seemed to me, that healing is something that happens, or it doesn't.
I am drawn to books written by folks who 'heal'. I read them with a certain amount of discernment. I, perhaps cynically, find myself wondering HOW they know that they heal or that they can take money from people for sharing their gift.
And then I met Greg(g) today.
I'm supposed to have met Greg(g) several times by now and it's just never happened. I knew this morning that today would be the day. Not sure how I knew that, but...I did.
So, we met.
He asked me what's going on. Oh, where to begin?
So, I said that I'd sort of had some health crises in the past year. Apparently I have Systemic Mastocytosis and some super crap allergies, like latex & a pile of foods. I found myself talking about these things in a non-believer kind of way. I am utterly adverse to stuffing myself into this box of disease. I'm not in denial about its presence, or the impact on my life & the life of my family and friends. I, well, I just can't bring myself to think of myself as 'sick'. I don't believe I am. I think that I'm unbalanced internally, perhaps spiritually, perhaps emotionally, perhaps any number of things...at the end of the day though, it sort of seems like things are misfiring, somewhere. My doctors are scratching their heads. Even my new Immunologist isn't sure I'm fitting snuggly into the Masto profile he's used to seeing, anymore...ergo I now have to have another bone marrow biopsy done WITH the c-kit mutation testing. That 1% he was telling me about...well, that's where we are now. He can't believe that I had a bone marrow biopsy in October last year and that they didn't do it then...apparently if you suspect Masto you should be doing this test, not just checking for an abundance of mast cells (which I don't have.)
He asked me why I don't believe that I'm sick.
Simple, I replied. If I tell myself (and others) that I'm sick, I will be. I don't deny the presence of Masto or my severe latex allergy or reactions and sensitivities to foods, perfumes, dyes, everything. However, I'm not willing to consider that I am ill. I want to be well. Everything I am doing, and going through, and taking, is attempts to be well. This isn't about not dying. It's about feeling good while I'm living. At the end of the day, that's what we all want. When your 'normal' shifts and is no longer normal, you find yourself wishing for what used to be 'normal' to return, even if it was never actually any good for you...it was comfortable; it was familiar. However, as I've discovered over the past year, when 'normal' changes, we need to adapt. This is a process; a journey; a path. And, it doesn't happen overnight.
I told him that when I announced to the Universe; to God; to Gaia; to Buddha; to whoever or whatever was listening (me?) that I no longer wanted to work at the soul-sucking work I'd been doing for almost 20 years (with various companies and faces); that I no longer wanted to be driving my family all over God's half acre, day in, day out; that I wanted nothing to do with money anymore; that I wanted more time at home; that I wanted to be here for my children to put them on the school bus and meet them after the bus completes it's daily cycle; that I wanted to have more time to write; that I wanted more time to paint; that I wanted more time to explore this 'teacher/wellness mentor/whole body health thingy'; that I wanted more time to myself...this wasn't exactly what I meant.
However, here I am...with all that I asked for.
Then I asked Greg(g) how long he'd known about his 'gift'. He laughed. He told me that ever since he was a child, as long as he can remember, he's been outside the box. From the time he can remember, he could feel things, sense things, know things, see things, hear things that others were obviously oblivious to.
I asked him if he'd always been aware that others were oblivious to it. No, he wasn't aware of that until he was much older - about the time that he started blocking these feelings; these sensations and trying to 'grow up' and ignore this vital part of himself. And it made him chronically ill for ages.
My big test question was next. "Are you a Healer?" I asked.
Pause.
Pause.
Chuckle.
"I don't think of myself like that," he replied. "It's something that I do. I can't explain it. I can't name it. I don't know what to call it. I just do it. I don't try. It just happens."
I tell myself perhaps I should reserve judgement (or not judge at all), because whatever it is that he does, he hasn't done it yet, on me.
So, he came over to my chair. He placed his hands on my head. And in much the way that I do when I'm permitted to touch other people (especially my husband, children and motherinlaw), he ran his hands over my head. Stopped in one place for a while. And that was it.
I didn't feel anything except the calm openess of his hands on my hair and skull. No weirdo energy surges down my spine; no tingling; no nothing. Then he took his hands off of me. My chest, neck and face immediately surged with heat, much the way it does at the onset of a reaction. He asked if I was ok; he suggested we open the exterior door to let some cold air in and did so. I asked him to shut the door because despite this heat, I was cold.
He sat down. I asked him what he felt when he puts his hands on people, because when I do, without being told, my hands find the area of 'heat' or stress or where I need to stop. I don't do this very often and am actually adverse to touching people because of these sensations. My motherinlaw and husband have said to me numerous times, "how did you know where I hurt?"; "how did you know to stop there?"; "I don't know what you just did, but that feels amazing." And, I'm not doing anything. Just have my hands where they need to go. I don't think about it. I don't try to do it. And usually, I find this heat spot...but not always. And, I let whatever needs to happen, happen. Sometimes it's nothing but holding my hands over the spot. So, I asked Greg(g) if this was akin to his experience. Apparently, it is.
Greg(g) said he doesn't meet people everyday that 'get it' or 'know' what he means when talks about this 'gift'. So he's stopped explaining. However, today, he was pleasantly surprised. As was I.
I'm not sure what to make of it. So I'm letting it be what it is.
However, this afternoon I napped for the first time in ages. Such a restful sleep. And I'm about to get into bed again now, feeling this good. So, perhaps there's something in this afterall?
I don't know. And maybe, just maybe, I'm not meant to know.
I am drawn to books written by folks who 'heal'. I read them with a certain amount of discernment. I, perhaps cynically, find myself wondering HOW they know that they heal or that they can take money from people for sharing their gift.
And then I met Greg(g) today.
I'm supposed to have met Greg(g) several times by now and it's just never happened. I knew this morning that today would be the day. Not sure how I knew that, but...I did.
So, we met.
He asked me what's going on. Oh, where to begin?
So, I said that I'd sort of had some health crises in the past year. Apparently I have Systemic Mastocytosis and some super crap allergies, like latex & a pile of foods. I found myself talking about these things in a non-believer kind of way. I am utterly adverse to stuffing myself into this box of disease. I'm not in denial about its presence, or the impact on my life & the life of my family and friends. I, well, I just can't bring myself to think of myself as 'sick'. I don't believe I am. I think that I'm unbalanced internally, perhaps spiritually, perhaps emotionally, perhaps any number of things...at the end of the day though, it sort of seems like things are misfiring, somewhere. My doctors are scratching their heads. Even my new Immunologist isn't sure I'm fitting snuggly into the Masto profile he's used to seeing, anymore...ergo I now have to have another bone marrow biopsy done WITH the c-kit mutation testing. That 1% he was telling me about...well, that's where we are now. He can't believe that I had a bone marrow biopsy in October last year and that they didn't do it then...apparently if you suspect Masto you should be doing this test, not just checking for an abundance of mast cells (which I don't have.)
He asked me why I don't believe that I'm sick.
Simple, I replied. If I tell myself (and others) that I'm sick, I will be. I don't deny the presence of Masto or my severe latex allergy or reactions and sensitivities to foods, perfumes, dyes, everything. However, I'm not willing to consider that I am ill. I want to be well. Everything I am doing, and going through, and taking, is attempts to be well. This isn't about not dying. It's about feeling good while I'm living. At the end of the day, that's what we all want. When your 'normal' shifts and is no longer normal, you find yourself wishing for what used to be 'normal' to return, even if it was never actually any good for you...it was comfortable; it was familiar. However, as I've discovered over the past year, when 'normal' changes, we need to adapt. This is a process; a journey; a path. And, it doesn't happen overnight.
I told him that when I announced to the Universe; to God; to Gaia; to Buddha; to whoever or whatever was listening (me?) that I no longer wanted to work at the soul-sucking work I'd been doing for almost 20 years (with various companies and faces); that I no longer wanted to be driving my family all over God's half acre, day in, day out; that I wanted nothing to do with money anymore; that I wanted more time at home; that I wanted to be here for my children to put them on the school bus and meet them after the bus completes it's daily cycle; that I wanted to have more time to write; that I wanted more time to paint; that I wanted more time to explore this 'teacher/wellness mentor/whole body health thingy'; that I wanted more time to myself...this wasn't exactly what I meant.
However, here I am...with all that I asked for.
Then I asked Greg(g) how long he'd known about his 'gift'. He laughed. He told me that ever since he was a child, as long as he can remember, he's been outside the box. From the time he can remember, he could feel things, sense things, know things, see things, hear things that others were obviously oblivious to.
I asked him if he'd always been aware that others were oblivious to it. No, he wasn't aware of that until he was much older - about the time that he started blocking these feelings; these sensations and trying to 'grow up' and ignore this vital part of himself. And it made him chronically ill for ages.
My big test question was next. "Are you a Healer?" I asked.
Pause.
Pause.
Chuckle.
"I don't think of myself like that," he replied. "It's something that I do. I can't explain it. I can't name it. I don't know what to call it. I just do it. I don't try. It just happens."
I tell myself perhaps I should reserve judgement (or not judge at all), because whatever it is that he does, he hasn't done it yet, on me.
So, he came over to my chair. He placed his hands on my head. And in much the way that I do when I'm permitted to touch other people (especially my husband, children and motherinlaw), he ran his hands over my head. Stopped in one place for a while. And that was it.
I didn't feel anything except the calm openess of his hands on my hair and skull. No weirdo energy surges down my spine; no tingling; no nothing. Then he took his hands off of me. My chest, neck and face immediately surged with heat, much the way it does at the onset of a reaction. He asked if I was ok; he suggested we open the exterior door to let some cold air in and did so. I asked him to shut the door because despite this heat, I was cold.
He sat down. I asked him what he felt when he puts his hands on people, because when I do, without being told, my hands find the area of 'heat' or stress or where I need to stop. I don't do this very often and am actually adverse to touching people because of these sensations. My motherinlaw and husband have said to me numerous times, "how did you know where I hurt?"; "how did you know to stop there?"; "I don't know what you just did, but that feels amazing." And, I'm not doing anything. Just have my hands where they need to go. I don't think about it. I don't try to do it. And usually, I find this heat spot...but not always. And, I let whatever needs to happen, happen. Sometimes it's nothing but holding my hands over the spot. So, I asked Greg(g) if this was akin to his experience. Apparently, it is.
Greg(g) said he doesn't meet people everyday that 'get it' or 'know' what he means when talks about this 'gift'. So he's stopped explaining. However, today, he was pleasantly surprised. As was I.
I'm not sure what to make of it. So I'm letting it be what it is.
However, this afternoon I napped for the first time in ages. Such a restful sleep. And I'm about to get into bed again now, feeling this good. So, perhaps there's something in this afterall?
I don't know. And maybe, just maybe, I'm not meant to know.
2 comments:
I too dislike the term "healer". I usually refer to these people as intuitives as it's not just a healing but a natural intuition to know things.
When I'm in an emotional crisis, my best friend will know, intuitively, that I'm hurting and if I need her, she's there. Nothing is ever said out loud. My husband didn't believe me until he saw things first hand.
We have a friend who has a very severe autoimmune disease that has almost killed her several times. After a particular bad hospitalization, she was all swollen. I could sense her lymphatic system was backed up, causing the pain and swelling and I begged her to let me work on her. She was afraid but finally gave in. I told her "just five minutes". 45 minutes later, I had to stop as my hands were buzzing. I soaked up so much of her energy that I didn't sleep for days. She, on the other hand, for the first time in 3 years went to bed at 4:00 p.m. and didn't awake until 11:00 a.m. the next day (her husband and nurse were so worried).
Now, she receives body work 2x a week and her health, comparatively speaking, is incredible.
Thank you for your cogent thoughts on latex allergies; this is an important and often overlooked issue, and I found your words provocative and insightful.
The organization I work for, the Pacific Northwest Foundation, is devoted to researching alternative modes of healing for a variety of illnesses, including latex allergy. I wanted to share with you a video presentation of a case study we conducted some years ago about a woman with severe latex allergy who, through a variety of methods, was able to diminish her reactivity. The link to the presentation is http://pnf.org/html/anna_s_case.html.
I'd like to thank you so much for your contribution to the subject of latex allergy, and hope you will find the case study above helpful in your continued exploration into the subject.
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