‘Real heat – soothing heat’

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.

WHAT?

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?”

“Yes.”

UNBELIEVABLE.

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.

My Holy Grail

They say that just holding it in your hands is sometimes all it takes to be affected by the energy – to begin to feel the frequencies.

The book. I’m talking about the book.  Not THE BOOK –which granted has already changed my life, or shaped it to this point, but a more humble paperback which was to influence where I went from here – the next stage of the journey.

 

I didn’t actually have a physical copy of the book to hold in my hand. I had downloaded it from Kindle, remember, with an impulsive flick of my finger on the one-click setting.  But that didn’t seem to matter.  I COULD feel it.  A slight, warm tingling at first that intensified to pin-pricks that indicated undeniably something akin to an electrical current was flowing in and through my body.

 

The Reconnection: Heal Others, Heal Yourself tells the story of how Eric Pearl, a chiropractor in LA, began to feel similar sensations after receiving some form of quantum re-calibration from a gypsy woman he met on a beach. I’m not selling it very well, I know. You’re thinking it’s all a bit whacky-do.  The point is, his patients began to experience cures.  Incredible, miraculous cures.  And rather than enhance his professional success, he began to lose clients.  It all became a bit too strange.  Indeed he knew himself he was dealing with something ‘off the scale’ which would take some re-adjustment on his part, and on the future direction his life would take.

 

I won’t go into more detail. You can read the book for yourself should you have a mind to.  Suffice to say, that what he came to name “Reconnective Healing” is indeed a form of healing that appears to be newly accessible to us, and that anyone can learn.

Eric Pearl now dedicates his time to travelling the world, teaching others how to access these frequencies to facilitate healings.

 

What is most surprising to me is the ease with which I picked up these sensations just from reading the book. There is a section that instructs you on how to try it out at home on friends or family members.

Once again husband became guinea pig. As I let the palm of my hand float about four inches in front of his open palm I began to feel sharp pin-pricks randomly at different points on the surface area of my skin.

As I ‘hit on’ a sensation I stayed with it, refining and stretching, as I had read about and seen Eric demonstrate on the You Tube videos I had watched.

‘What do you feel?’ I ask.

‘A sort of breeze on the back of my hand,’ he replies. ‘And it feels as though it’s being pulled, like a magnet. It’s weird.’

 

Yes, it is weird. But very exciting.

 

A few days later our eight-year old son returned from school with a slight limp. He says he hurt his knee when he fell playing football.  When he was still limping a day later I asked if I could try to heal him.

 

It was then I had the idea to test out one method of healing against the other.

 

First I ask him to sit on a stool (a white stool, it must be white).   I go through the procedure of the King Technique.  Now the full thing takes  about thirty minutes, if you do it correctly, and I didn’t want to leave any bits out in case it wouldn’t work.  (Even as I write this I realise how wrong it all sounds).    Whereas some people might enjoy the hands-on focussed attention for a full half-hour, and regard it as quality time, eight-year old boys have a tendency to get restless and wriggle about.

 

He tells me he felt some heat from my hands, but his knee still hurts. I leave it a couple of hours before a second attempt using the hands-off Reconnective Healing approach.

 

This time it doesn’t matter where he sits, or what colour the chair is. In fact I ask him to lie down on the sofa, which he is quite happy to do.

 

There is no beginning ritual. No counting the number of sweeps in a certain direction.  No visualising white light.  So I can relax a bit.  I have freedom to begin how I choose.  Instinctively I raise my arms above his head, slightly to the side and kind of swoop into his field, a bit like a gentle big dipper motion.  And there it is, the first ‘indicator’ – a little nip in my palm.  I pause, stay with the sensation, circling it, pulling it higher.  My son begins to respond.  I notice his closed eyelids flicker slightly.  Then I move slowly across his face.  At his right shoulder I sense another ‘prick’, in the tip of my index finger this time.  I move my hand so the sensation is localised in the centre of my palm.  Then I rotate, stretch, ‘playing with it’ as Eric likes to say.

At this point my son gasps, and reaches down to touch his knee.

“Ooh… I felt something in my knee,” he says.  “Like a little tickle.”

Really?

I wasn’t anywhere near his knee. And I was working on the left side of his body (at the other end) not the right.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Immediately I want to test it out. The book tells me a healing can be instantaneous – there doesn’t need to be a set length of time for sessions in order for a healing to ‘work’.   So I ask him to get up and put some weight on it.

He does, and he can’t feel any pain.

He starts running around the room. Then he is out of the door and I don’t see him again until tea time.  But there is no limp this time.

 

I feel uplifted and inspired.

This is more like it. This is natural, intuitive and I don’t feel compromised in any way by taking on new rituals or belief patterns.

I think this is it. This really is it.

I’ve found my Holy Grail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I just want to be normal

I buy myself a medical/lab coat from Amazon because I am told I need one. I put it on and look at myself in the mirror.  I like the way it looks, but it feels like dressing up.  Secret dressing up.  I’m not sure I’d answer the door wearing it.  So how am I going to do this healing thing that I feel I’m called to do, and keep it secret at the same time?

I wear my white coat when I practise on my Mum. I take it with me in a Next carrier bag.  But just as we finish some visitors arrive.  I whip it off quickly and shove it back in the bag before they see.

Goodness – I can’t be doing with this carry on every time.

Maybe I could become a volunteer with at the Aetherius Temple, where all the other healers will be wearing white coats too and I won’t feel so conspicuous. But the Aetherius Temple is a long drive from where I live.  It isn’t a practical option.

Maybe I should join?

The thing is, I’ve already joined one organisation in my life – the evangelical Christian mission of which my family were members. I even became a minister within this church myself.  But when I decided I really wanted a life for myself,  and to be free to make my own choices, I left.

It was like the unforgiveable sin, because I’d signed up for life.

It wasn’t easy.  I wrestled with the dilemma for a long time.  Should I sacrifice my own desires (for a husband, a family) and put God and ‘the work’ first?

Then I heard the voice within.

Why do you find it so hard to believe I would want to give you something good?

The ‘something good’ was my freedom, my personal happiness.

This ‘word’ was enough for me. I accepted the fact that they would try (by their silent disapproval) to heap guilt upon me.  I had failed, given up, abandoned the ‘good fight’ and put myself first.

I knew that God didn’t think this, but they did. And I didn’t want a repeat of this sense of  failure.

 

Nevertheless I go along to Sunday worship at the Aetherius Temple, out of curiosity and because I genuinely liked the people I’d met.

The two lovely ladies are there. But this time they are wearing robes, as are all the others.  Helen leads the worship. Behind her is a wooden cross embedded with crystals.  To the left is a picture of Jesus.  I recognise it as the same painting we had in our family home when I was growing up.  How I loved that picture.  I had spoken to that face many times.  Poured my heart out and felt its loving response. To the right is a portrait of Dr George King.  For this face I feel nothing.  Both these figures are esteemed Ascended Masters by members of the Aetherius society.  But to give them equal status?

I’m not sure how I feel about this.

During worship I am allowed to join in with one of the mantras:

Om mani padme hum.  Om mani padme hum.

We had already been introduced to the use of this mantra for the purpose of distance healing at the training day.

But other mantras I can only listen to, and must not try to join in with.

There seems to be a lot of protocol. And it all seems very alien to normal everyday life.

The rules, the chanting, the robes…

 

The organisation to which I belonged before had a uniform. There was always internal disagreement about whether it was a bad thing because it separated us out from others, or a good thing because it identified us with a set of values and beliefs.

I don’t want to set myself apart as different anymore.

I just want to be normal.

Or as normal as is possible when you’ve decided you want to be a healer!

 

The Aetherius Society’s beliefs cover a wide spectrum of philosophy, religion, metaphysics and spiritual sciences, in a similar way to the Theosophy movement. Their particular focus is helping the world through dynamic prayer and spiritual healing, both incredibly worthy priorities and values I share.

I know, however, I cannot make a commitment to another organisation. I cannot take that spiritual ‘vow’.

I am grateful to the Aetherius Society for introducing me to healing, for giving me faith in myself and showing me I could do it. Through my encounter with them I met some wonderful spiritual people of real integrity who will remain life-long friends.

But I know this is not the way forward for me.

So what is?

A Close Encounter with the Aetherius Society

It’s not long before I stumble across a book during an internet search that catches my eye. The book is called ‘You Too Can Heal’.  Its title answers my burning question, and what’s more, I can download it on my Kindle for £4.50.  Within minutes I’m reading about Dr George King, a bus driver who also practised Yoga for up to twelve hours a day (back in the day when it was hard to lay your hands on a book about Yoga in England) and became a Master.  He was also a trance medium, and was contacted by an ET intelligence known as “Aetherius”.

George King is telling me that I too can heal if I have a desire to do so, and I can develop the skill through practise and following certain technique given to him by Aetherius. I test out my propensity by standing in front of a mirror and holding my palm about 6 inches from the surface as instructed.  Do I feel any sensations?  Yes I do –  a slight pulsating energy in my palm.  If I move further back, can I still feel it?  I take a few steps.  Yes.  And a few more until my back is against the bathroom wall.  Although its weaker, I can still feel some kind of sensation in my hand.

I am encouraged by this initial positive sign and race through the book, testing out the technique step by step on my husband. He tells me he can feel heat coming from my hands.  I watch a video on You Tube of Aetherius Society members demonstrating the King Method at a Festival for Mind, Body, Spirit.

All the healers are wearing white lab coats which is explained in the book as being mandatory (because white is contains all the colour energies) and preferably cotton not polyester. Volunteers sit on chairs on the stage.  The healers begin at the same time following the routine outlined in the book.  To begin they stand behind placing their hands on the person’s forehead and make seven passes across the forehead and right down the back with both hands still close together.   This is followed by seven swift strokes down the full length of the back.  This is done to stimulate the nervous system and charge it with your healing power.  Also adverse conditions are pulled away from the aura of the patient this way.  Following this the hands must be moved away from the person and shaken to shake off the negative condition.  Then they begin to work down the body starting with the head. Using both hands (one at the front, one at the back) they hold the position for about 20 seconds, then move to the other side and repeat. While this is happening they visualise white light entering the body. This pattern is repeated as the healer systematically moves down the chakras of the body to the base chakra.  The better your ability to visualise is, the more effective the healing will be, according to the instruction manual.

 

I am excited to discover a method that anyone can learn that I decide to sign up for a training day to be held at the Aetherius Society Northern branch.

When I arrive slightly late on the Saturday morning, I am warmly greeted by Helen and Emily (not their real names), whom I can only describe as beautiful ladies, not just because of their outward appearance, but the joy and love that radiates from them. Immediately I knew I was among friends.

There are only a few of us and we each introduce ourselves. The first hour is spent learning about the philosophy and teachings of the Aetherius Society. We are then asked to choose a white coat as the practical sessions begin.

Helen and Emily demonstrate, before we practise on each other. They observe our technique to ensure we are doing it correctly.  I begin, doing the passes as I had been doing them on husband at home.  Helen jumps to her feet and tells me I have my thumbs up!  I didn’t know I wasn’t meant to.  Thumbs must be down, flat against the index finger, she explains.  If thumbs are up, I am making a Mudra, which is a powerful spiritual symbol.  I could be inviting energies in without knowing.  Woops.  This is trickier than I thought.  I must be more careful.  Is the problem with my inadvertently forming a Mudra that I could bring in negative energies, or is it because I haven’t yet been initiated into the use of Mudras.  I don’t know.  But I do as I am told and quickly tuck my thumbs in.

It becomes clear as we progress that it is very important to follow the technique precisely.  This makes me feel under pressure, especially as they keep a close eye on us to ensure we are getting it right.

At the end of the afternoon we are assessed. I feel nervous; there’s a lot to remember.  I don’t want to forget any part of the technique, or make a mistake.  The timing has to be right, the position of the hands on the chakras, the closing shaking off ritual.  Nothing must be left out.  And at the end I must remember to wash my hands to cleanse away any residual energy from the last patient before starting with the next.

I pass. And I feel really pleased with myself.

I can’t wait to test it out.

 

The opportunity comes when I visited my Mother the next day. She had been complaining of a sore shoulder from a fall she had about six months earlier.  The Xray showed no fracture, but she continued to be troubled with a nagging pain in her upper arm.

She agrees to be my ‘patient’. I work my way through the King Technique, then I place my hands around the specific area of concern as we had been directed.  I kneel beside her and place one hand on her shoulder, the other beneath her arm.  Immediately I began to feel heat in my hands.  Then, after a few moments, to my amazement, I hear the unmistakeable sound of clicking coming from inside her arm.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

Afterwards I ask her if she also heard this. No, she says, but she felt the bones inside her arm move!

What’s more, she felt some relief from the pain.

 

How did THAT happen?

This is momentous. I know that a new phase has begun.

I am on my way to becoming a healer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘In the name of JEEEESUS!’

So I resist the obvious Reiki route and decide that since I am a Christian I really should stick with the Christians and join in with their healing thing.   The only problem being, in your ‘bog-standard’ (is that irreverent?) church you don’t see much healing going on.  You have to go to one of these MEGA-churches like you see on the tele (or You Tube).

 

Now it just so happened that we lived within walking distance of one of these free independent churches that was well-attended and ‘alive’.  I also found out that this church had followed the US model of having associated Healing Rooms that people could attend mid-week.  So clearly this church prioritised healing as a central part of its ministry.

Excellent.

I went along to Sunday worship.  I rather liked the band – the electric guitars and drums, played by very talented musicians skilled at enhancing the mood; rousing and euphoric one minute and with a soothing and gentle sensitivity the next.  I seem to remember being rather mesmerised by the bass player who must have only been about 15.  These guys are clearly dedicated and put the hours of practise in.

The people were very loving, very joyful, glowing in fact.  Their love of God, their sincere worship created a sacred space. Tangibly so. The air became thick with the presence of the Holy Spirit, the Shekinah.  I recognised it.  Years earlier I had followed a calling into the ministry.  I was familiar with the Holy Spirit, and the intensity of experience that could be witnessed at such collective gatherings.

We sang.  And sang. And sang some more.

People were standing, arms in the air, eyes closed, swaying gently, and their was a sense of collective hypnosis that seemed to take effect and swell in magnitude.  Only I was on the outside.  I didn’t feel comfortable putting my hands up in the air.  Bit self-conscious maybe, but that’s just me.  So after the sixteenth repeat of “I will sing of your love forever,” (not being facetious btw – the chorus is that same line four times,  so after four repeats of the chorus it adds up),  I sat down and just bathed in the presence.  By now I was starting to get hungry.  I know it’s wrong, but I’m not used to these two hour services. I glance at the lady across the aisle who’s gone a bit When Harry Met Sally – her face is creased up, I think in ecstasy rather than agony, but it could be either.  Yet I’m not feeling it. My stomach’s rumbling and I can’t help thinking about roast potatoes and gravy…

I slip out before the end because it’s OK to move about here – all very relaxed and informal.  As I walk home I feel different.  I can tell my consciousness has been altered.  It’s how I imagine being on drugs to be like. A gentle sedation that softens everything along with a wonderful feeling of pleasure and deep peace. This altered state temporarily cushions me from the harsh reality of living in the world, this town that could be grubby and hostile.  The pavement seems more vivid, I notice.  And the litter….  And the blaring sirens of a police car racing past…  I don’t want my bubble to burst.  I’m enjoying this cocoon.  The contrast is striking and the wonderful inner feeling stays with me all day.

I decide to visit the Healing Rooms the following Wednesday.  Having had corneal surgery on both eyes, I am left with compromised visual acuity.  I give some details, fill out a form and three volunteers are assigned to me.  We go into a quiet back room.  I sit on a chair and after listening to me,  the three of them surround the chair, placing a hand on my shoulder, arm, back.  They are so gentle, warm, loving.  I feel the air in the room thicken with grace one again.  As they lay hands on me and take turns to pray I feel deeply blessed.  Beryl tells me she feels my healing will be gradual and I must just trust and know it will happen.

I make a return visit a few weeks later.  This time a different lady leads.  Before we go into the room she tells me she had a ‘word’ about eyes this morning, and that she feels sure a miracle is going to happen.  Irene (not her real name)  asks me to stand.  She places her hands over my eyes, but that doesn’t seem to be enough.  She places her index and middle finger together and presses them against my eyelids while she’talks’ to the cornea, commanding it in the name of Jesus.  I am then asked to sit down.  She begins questioning me about my past, my relationship with my first husband.  I answer truthfully, but am beginning to find it all a bit personal and, well invasive to be honest. My husband didn’t treat me right.  Did I ever wish he was dead?  I am astonished.  The others seem a bit awkward too.  It’s important, she tells me.  I need to repent of sin that may be blocking and preventing a healing.  I am asked to repeat certain phrases after her.  Not in my head, out loud.  It has to be out loud, witnessed by others.  I do as I’m told, but inside I’m squirming.  It’s embarrassing as much as anything.  I know all about using spiritual authority, but this is a type of aggression.  “I cast out this spirit of infirmity and disease in the name  of JEEEESUS!” she almost shouts,  pushing back my forehead.  I think this lady has been watching too many You Tube videos.  She is styling herself on the evangelical celebrity pastors with their theatrical stage tactics that I find such uncomfortable viewing.   The others are muttering “Thank you, Jesus” and “Yes, Lord” while she’s doing this, but all I can think is let me out of here, and I know I won’t be coming back for more of this – there won’t be a next time.  I found the experience unpleasant and humiliating.  It was so very different from my first visit to the Healing Rooms.

 

So what do I learn from this?   That Christian healing doesn’t work?  That it’s all hype and hot air?  No.  I believe that Jesus can and does heal through this followers today.  But more significantly I learn that there is a lot about the style, presentation and delivery of healing within the evangelical church that I do not feel comfortable with.  The emphasis on proclamations and declarations I believe to be unnecessary and fear-based, reducing a living faith to ritualistic superstition.  Why was it so important I had to say certain words out loud?  Who makes these rules?

I also know I cannot be certain what kind of experience I’m going to have when I ask for Christian healing.  Some will say, that’s because the Holy Spirit will do what he will, and we can’t predict or control what that will look like.  But I’m not talking about this.  I’m talking about the things we can control.  Making sure the encounter is user-friendly.  That a person would know pretty much what to expect when they made a visit, and there wouldn’t be any curveballs.  This doesn’t seem to be the case because the priesthood of all believers encompasses a diversity of personality types each with their own way of doing things.  And if someone says the Spirit led them to do it like this, who can argue with that?

 

So I choose Anglicanism.  The uniformity of the liturgy and communion service gives me the  ‘quality control’ and assurance against vigilante charismatics I need.  Every second Sunday of the month, the Communion service incorporates an invitation to healing prayer.  As the organ plays you can go forward, kneel at the rail, and the vicar will place his hand on your head and voice a personal prayer customised to your concern.  No casting out spirits, no raised voices, no undignified falling backwards on the floor.

But does it work?  I commented to a friend who happened to be on the church council, that we never seemed to hear much about healing in the Anglican church (surprising considering healing was such a central part of Jesus’ earthly ministry).  She told me something that made my mind up once and for all.

She told me of a lady (without disclosing the name), who had gone forward to the rail to receive healing prayer.  And had indeed received a miraculous cure.  I was fascinated.   Was this something that might have got better by itself, or could it really be classed as a ‘miracle’?  She confirmed the latter.  BUT the details of this unexplained improvement in symptoms was told in strictest confidence, and my friend had to promise never to disclose this information to anyone.

This lady’s healing was clearly a source of embarrassment to her.

No testimony.  No glorifying God for the sake of expanding the Kingdom and bringing others to faith.  Secrecy for the sake of respectability at all costs.

 

I feel disappointed.  Disillusioned. Saddened more than anything.   I realise that the stigma attached to healing has become a cause of real division within the church, an inconvenient political fly in the ointment.

And yet I know more than anything That I want yo be involved in healing.  I want to help people overcome illness and suffering because I don’t believe this s part of the Father’s design for us.  And I believe it s possible to heal through the same transformative power that was demonstrated in Jesus, and that he promised would be available to us.

 

I love Jesus.  Passionately.  Deeply.  And I know that my soul is eternally ‘in Christ’.

But what I don’t know, what I’m unsure of is whether I will find an avenue of service within the church.

 

Where do I go from here?