I can’t wait to test it out – these new healing powers that seem to have shown up in my front room through the crumby-edged screen of my Kindle.
But it’s not the sort of thing you can just bring into conversation easily. “Can I practise some healing on you?”
At work, in the staff room, I stick to the safe usual banter and in-house talk that punctuates our gobbled sandwich-eating between marking books and a quick glance over the afternoon’s planning. But I do confide in a colleague whom I know well enough to trust with a confidence. Emma is interested and curious, mentioning her own lower back problem. “Maybe it could help me,” she says lightly. Before we know it we’re arranging a trial distance healing session for the same evening.
Back at home, after delegating the washing up to teenage daughter (now that’s going to happen) I head up to the room we use as a kind of office (meaning it has a desk and printer in one corner, and some built in storage, but other than that is quite a nice-sized empty space). Shutting the door behind me I stand in the middle of the room. I recall what the practitioner had told me when I’d asked about distance healing. How he said he would go into the treatment room and work around the table as though the client was there.
I found this intriguing. And did it work? I’d asked. Did the person feel the same sensations they would feel if they were present in person? Surely not!
‘Oh yes,’ he’d said.
“And did people experience healings?”
Yet I so want it to be true.
Looking at my phone I see that the time shows 6.30pm. Emma will be lying down in a quiet place as arranged, waiting. I will send healing for 20 minutes. She will then text afterwards to report back. This is what we have agreed.
I take a few deep breaths. I’m feeling nervous. I’m also feeling a bit self-conscious. What would people think if they could see me now – standing in an empty space, raising my hands, floating them around, over and above … nothing. No treatment couch, no client.
They’d think I was a total nutter.
I probably am.
But then, within moments the familiar prickling sensation begins. Tiny electrical currents dancing across the surface of my palms. I move my hand in a circular motion, pulling and stretching the ‘energy’ to see how the sensations change.
I feel like a child playing. I’m totally focused in the moment, thinking of Emma but noticing subtle nuances at the same time. What will happen if I reach up here? How about circling my fingers like this…. Or what if I dart them like ray-guns?
I notice a tingling along my left calf… then the back of my hand is alive, pricking like a pincushion.
I’m surprised to see that 20 minutes have passed and it’s time to stop. I leave it a few moments then I pick up my phone and start texting
‘did you feel anything?’
Then delete. It makes me too vulnerable. How would I take it if she said no? I re-phrase – making it more playful, less important:
“Haha – hope that was as good 4 u as it was 4 me.”
It’s still a risk I know.
My heart is pounding. I feel strangely excited.
Am I seriously expecting her to have experienced anything out of the ordinary?
My phone beeps.
I read the screen…
Lol! First I got tingling in my feet then warmth spreading up through my spine into my neck and the back of my head. Real heat, soothing heat!
I can’t believe my eyes. She really felt something?
How did THAT happen?
She lives twenty miles away for goodness sake.
I feel exhilarated, confused, excited, and maybe a little bit scared.
This is something else. This changes everything. You can’t just walk away from something like this.
“How’s your back?” I ask Emma on Monday when we’re back at work. She tells me that on Friday, after the session she felt a lot more comfortable and the warm feeling stayed with her all evening. Not only that, the pain didn’t return at all over the weekend.
Sometimes what you hope for just happens.
Sometimes The Universe just gives you a great big YES.