Читать книгу A Quest for Healing – A Story of Love - EBOOK - Wendy Carol Abelson RNCP ROHP - Страница 10

It was a windy spring day in 1986, a day that would mark the beginning of one of the most challenging times of my life. When I entered Dr. Griffen’s office, I did not know that my world was about to shatter into a million pieces. “Hi Wendy,” said Dr. Griffen without smiling. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a monotone voice. Dr. Griffen was a good doctor, but the nurturing side of medicine was absent in his personality.

“I must admit that I’ve been feeling tired lately.”

“I can understand that from the results that we got back from the lab.” A lump formed in my throat as my heart began to pound. For fifteen years, I had juggled blood sugars, insulin, and food because of my diabetes. What was wrong now?

Dr. Griffen proceeded to tell me that my kidney and liver function were beginning to deteriorate, and that the tests did not look good. “The results show your kidneys are in distress, it is as if you have had diabetes for forty years,” said Dr. Griffen in a rough voice.

I swallowed back tears. It felt like my life was ending. “But I’m only twenty-one. This can’t be happening.”

I left Dr. Griffen’s office feeling like I had been handed a death sentence. To add to this distress, an echo filled my mind of a previous visit with an eye specialist. He believed that laser surgery was necessary in order to save my vision from diabetic retinopathy. Walls were closing in on me from all directions. There seemed to be nowhere that I could run.

By the time I reached home, my emotional strength was drained. I secluded myself in my bedroom and cried until I felt numb. Why was this happening to me? My basement room became a refuge from a world that seemed cold and dark.

The eye specialist began a series of laser treatments at the hospital. These were extremely painful and not merely “minor discomfort” as the eye specialist had led me to believe. It was obvious that the doctors who stated this had never endured the experience. After each session of laser surgery, I paced the floor of my home, crying. There had to be a better solution.

I spent days thinking about my life and my beliefs. I had read an interesting book about the power of the mind and how it affects reality, but the idea of positive thinking seemed far and remote from my current situation. I needed a miracle, but the more I prayed the more frustrated I became. The sadness inside me was unbearable.

One day, I was sitting in front of the TV, feeling a great deal of self-pity and fear. My brother drove up and I watched him walk up the sidewalk. James, a beautiful and loving soul, had an understanding of life that most people seemed to miss. I was thankful that he had decided to come for a visit.

“There is something that you might like to try. It worked well for a friend of mine who was very ill.” James told me about a natural method of healing known as wheat grass therapy. “There is a clinic in Boston run by Anne Wigmore. She works with raw vegetarian food. The clinic has had some amazing results.” James gave me a book that explained the science behind the therapy. With traditional methods not delivering the results I was seeking, I was willing to try anything.

“Do you think this might help my kidneys?” I asked.

“There is only one way to find out,” said James.

After reading about the healing properties of wheat grass, I became very inspired. My dad built me a lighting system to grow trays of wheat. I would juice it when it grew to about six inches tall.

For a month, I drank ounces of wheat grass and ate nothing but raw vegetarian food. It was an extreme step, but desperation was guiding my actions. My family would be feasting on baked potatoes and I would look on in envy. I tried to convince myself that I was not sacrificing anything, that this treatment would heal my body. Convincing myself was a challenge.

I was also taking the City’s Tai Chi classes from James. Tai Chi, an ancient form of martial art and meditation, taught me that the body has an energy field. When sickness occurs in the body, it is because there is a blockage in the flow of energy. Tai Chi balances the flow of energy to its natural state. In other words, health is a natural condition.

It was a Monday night when I sat at my desk, pondering over the stack of books that lay before me. I had been reading everything from Eastern spirituality to ideas that had never entered my mind. It all seemed confusing and contradictory. Where were the answers?

An overwhelming feeling of self-pity came over me. A part of me wanted to die and be free of physical limitations. The other part of me was silently calling out for help, but I felt like God was not listening. In desperation, I decided to pray one more time. “God, could you PLEASE help me! I don’t understand why all this is happening to me! Please heal me!” Feeling completely alone, I flopped myself onto my bed. I looked at the bottle of blood pressure pills that was on my desk. A brief thought came into my mind to swallow the entire contents of the bottle. As if I was threatening God to help me or else! I knew I would never do it however.

The telephone rang and I made my way to answer it.

“Hello,” I said.

“How are you?” asked my friend Tanya.

“I’ve certainly had better days in my life.”

“What’s wrong? I haven’t heard from you for a long time.”

I proceeded to tell Tanya about the terrible things that had happened with my health. “I wish I knew what to do.”

“I know someone who may be able to help you.” Tanya told me about a man who had worked with her friend who had cancer and now the cancer was gone. “His name is Michael and he works with the mind. He is a massage therapist here at the club. Would you like to have his phone number?”

“I am willing to try anything at this point.”

Two days later, I sat by the phone with Michael’s phone number in hand. My heart was beating rapidly as I dialed. The phone rang several times before a warm comforting voice answered. It was Michael.

“My name is Wendy and I’m a friend of Tanya’s. I’ve been experiencing some complications from diabetes, and Tanya thought you might be able to help.” I rambled on, unable to disguise the despair that I was feeling over my predicament.

“Wendy, I would like to get together with you. How about Wednesday at ten a.m.?”

“That would be great,” I said with relief. “How do you work with people, Michael?”

“I’ll give you a massage on Wednesday and then we can talk about some things.” I wondered how Michael could help me. What did massage have to do with healing? It was something I had never experienced, nor was I sure what it entailed. Instead of asking Michael about it, I chose to remain naive.

Wednesday morning finally arrived. The sun shone through the window as I sat on the soft velvet rocking chair in my living room, waiting. When I saw an orange Volkswagen van drive up, somehow I knew it was Michael. An array of thoughts began to fill my mind. I felt that I could trust Michael, but I did not understand why. He was almost a stranger, or was he more than that?

I watched Michael walk to the door. He was wearing a tweed jacket, a white shirt and jeans. His brown hair framed a beautiful face with strong cheekbones and a smile that brightened my day. I opened the door, nervous and excited at the same time.

“Hi, Wendy. How are you doing?” Michael asked.

“I’ve been better.” A strange feeling came over me as I gazed at Michael. “You look familiar.”

“You’ve seen me at the racquet club.” This was the same man that I had seen months previously and the same eyes in which I had seen something special and familiar.

“Would you like some tea, Michael?”

“Sounds great.”

I made peppermint tea and started to tell Michael about my health. Michael listened patiently and responded to my plea for help by offering me a much-needed hug. There was genuine love and comfort in his arms, a love that came from spiritual values and genuine concern. A peaceful feeling began to flow into my body.

“Thanks, I needed that.” It amazed me that a simple embrace could remedy so much fear.

“The environment here must be good. The plants look healthy and there is plenty of light,” commented Michael as he looked around the dining room.

I wondered what he meant by this, but then, as if answering my own question, I remembered something that I had heard. Plants sometimes looked unhealthy in an environment where angry or negative people live. Many believe that people’s vibrations have an effect on plants.

We went downstairs to have our tea in the family room. Michael brought his massage table and I carried two mugs and a pot full of peppermint tea. We sat on the sofa and I carefully poured the hot beverage. “I really want to be well, Michael. I just don’t know where to begin.”

“Why do you think this is happening to you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Let me ask that question in another way. If you thought you knew the reason, what might it be?”

“There are many possibilities,” I responded. “I’ve been reading ‘The Science of Mind’ by Ernest Holmes. It is one of my favorite books.”

“That is one of my favorites too. It accurately describes how our thoughts create our reality.”

“I too believe my thoughts create my reality, but why would I create this?”

“You tell me,” said Michael.

“My childhood was certainly stressful and traumatic. Perhaps these things had an effect upon me physically. I lived most of my childhood in fear, but this was so long ago. How could it possibly connect with the present?”

“This may be more important than you think,” said Michael. He was listening to my every word. As if what I said was helping him to solve a puzzle. I found it difficult to talk about myself, yet something about Michael allowed me to share things that I had not told anyone. I felt like I had always known him.

Michael gently placed his hand on my back. I felt my muscles tighten in response. Why was I creating the tension in my body? His touch was comforting and I did not want him to take his hand away.

“I know my parents love me greatly, but I feel so overprotected.” I wiped a tear from my face, trying to hide my emotions. “My mom is very afraid for me and this doesn’t help me either, although I know it’s her way of caring.”

Michael told me about his friend Imtiaz who had cancer. “Imtiaz spent much time looking at his past to understand why he had allowed cancer into his life,” said Michael. “This was an important part of his healing.”

“When I look at the past, I see how much I’ve tried to be what other people wanted me to be,” I said.

“I understand that one. I used to live that way too, and I never knew who I was. As I listen to you, I feel like I am looking into a mirror.” The word mirror echoed through my mind with a resonance that called to me. Michael’s voice brought forth a mysterious feeling that was beyond description.

“What can I do to heal myself? I’ve been drinking wheat grass and eating only raw vegetarian food. Do you have any more ideas?”

“I’ve been thinking about things that might help. Wheat grass is certainly one of them. Massage will be helpful too. Do you have a bathing suit or some shorts to wear while I work on you?”

I felt resistance to the idea of taking off any clothes, even if it was for a professional massage. I went into my room and put on my black one-piece bathing suit and a green pair of shorts. I walked back into the family room and flopped myself onto the massage table.

“I can tell you’ve never had a massage,” Michael said with a teasing grin. I innocently wondered what he meant by this. I was unaware that massage was usually done disrobed. Michael asked me what I wanted to do today. I was not sure what he meant by this either.

“How about relaxation or changing a few energy patterns?” I inquired. I did not know what changing a few energy patterns even entailed, but those were the words that came out of my mouth. There was a knowledge inside me that I was only beginning to discover.

“You said relaxation first, so let’s do that.” Questions filled my mind about whether it was safe to allow Michael to touch my body. I was afraid that he might try something sexual.

As Michael began to massage my feet, a little voice in my mind echoed that what I wanted to do was heal my body. The massage was wonderful, and the loving contact with another human being allowed me to drift away. My body began to shake and I felt vibrations of energy moving through me. “I feel like I have shivers running up my spine. I don’t understand what is happening.”

“Do you think shivers is the right word to describe this experience?” asked Michael.

“No,” I said, feeling bad that I had described it that way. The energy coming alive in my body was incredible. It was different than sexual energy. My body continued to vibrate with energy even after the massage was finished.

“I’d like to work with you every week,” said Michael. “I can see that you don’t feel worthy. Remember that you are worthy and you really do have control over your life.” Michael was observant. My self-worth and self-esteem needed to change dramatically in order for me to become well. If it was true that I did have control over my life, why was I creating a hell for myself?

“I feel so alone,” I said, feeling discouraged.

“We’re closer because of our beliefs and the paths we are following than some people who are together or know each other for years,” said Michael.

After putting on my sweats, I followed Michael out to the van. “Thank you for everything,” I said, giving him a big hug.

“Don’t put me on a pedestal. Keep me by your side.” I watched Michael drive away. Already, I looked forward to our next visit.

One of the things that Michael advised me to do was to think about loving myself. What did this have to do with healing? Michael had also given me the book Teach Only Love by Dr. Jerry Jampolsky. This author would be in Calgary the following week for a speaking engagement.

The next Tuesday, I went to the Calgary Center for the Performing Arts to see Jerry Jampolsky. I wondered if Michael too was somewhere in the audience. He mentioned that he might be there.

Jerry talked about The Center for Attitudinal Healing in California and the work he did there. His talk was about the miracle of love and its wonderful effect upon our lives. The pages of his book came to life as I listened.

As I left the theater, I had the feeling that my life was being guided by something I could not explain. Perhaps my prayers were being answered. I felt that Michael had been sent to help guide me.

Michael came to see me the next day. We had our usual cup of tea and talked about life. “Did you go to Dr. Jampolsky’s talk?” I asked with curiosity.

“No, I’ve been studying for exams, and I’m exhausted from lack of sleep.” Michael was taking an advanced massage course. “If I had gone to Jerry’s lecture, I would have been sitting in the balcony too. Maybe my seat would have been right next to you. Destiny perhaps.” Michael’s words brought forth a wave of excitement. The word destiny resounded in my being. My soul was trying to tell me something.

Michael gave me another massage. As I lay on the table, I drifted into a peaceful sleep and awoke when he carefully removed the pillow to work on my neck and shoulders. My body was alive with energy rushing up my spine. I did not understand what I was experiencing, but I felt like it was healing my body. “Michael, I wonder why all this health stuff is happening to me. My life seems so negative.”

“Your negatives can be seen as positives if you choose to use them in the right way. What has diabetes taught you that you might not have learned?”

“Many things, but I’m afraid of the health problems.”

“You really can choose love instead of fear. Love conquers all fear.” I started to think about what my experience with diabetes had taught me. It had certainly inspired a spiritual search to understand life.

After the massage, I offered Michael some wheat grass juice. He knew about its healing and cleansing properties, but he had never tasted it. We gathered a few trays from my indoor garden and headed for the kitchen. With a special juicer, we began the task of hand juicing bright green blades of wheat. “Hey this stuff tastes good!” said Michael with surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“It reminds me of when I was a kid playing out on the lawn. Every youngster has chewed on a few blades of grass. Even the color of the juice is wonderful.”

“I still think you’re crazy! I can’t stand the stuff.” I prepared one of my aloe vera and wheat grass combinations. I was about to do an eyewash when Michael asked me if he could try it.

“You’re serious? You want to try this? Why?”

“Just for the experience,” grinned Michael. I started to wonder if everything we did in life was just for the experience. Did I create all my health problems to learn something? Many questions echoed in my mind. Michael had brought hope into my life, but was hope enough to heal me?

Michael came to visit me every week for a couple of months. I enjoyed spending time with him. With his help, I felt like I was gaining a whole new perspective on all the changes occurring in my life. It was easy to share with Michael because he did not judge me.

It was a beautiful spring day and there was a gentle wind blowing through the trees. Michael’s van pulled up in front of the house, and I watched him carry his massage table to the door. I wondered how long Michael would be in my life.

“Hi, Wendy! How are you feeling?” asked Michael as he reached the first step to my house.

“Not bad, I guess.”

“Does that mean good or just OK?” I felt like Michael was gently reminding me how my thoughts create my reality. Perhaps I also needed to be more aware of the words that came out of my mouth.

We went downstairs to the family room and sat on the sofa. I looked into Michael’s eyes and a feeling of sadness came over me. The gentle curves of his face embraced a loving smile that had brought me hope these past few months. Why then did I feel sad?

“Is that your Volkswagen out back?” asked Michael.

“Yes, but I want to sell it. It’s been sitting there for a while.”

“Maybe I’ll take a look at it after I give you a massage. I’m thinking about selling my van and buying a house. I may start a full time massage practice here in Calgary.” Michael was working part-time for the racquet club and for a physiotherapy clinic.

Michael passed me a cassette tape that he had brought with him. “Want to listen to some music?” he asked.

“That’s funny, Michael. I just put that same tape into my stereo. You’ll hear it in a minute,” I said, grinning at the coincidence.

After the massage, we went outside to look at my beige VW Fastback. Michael opened the door and sat on the driver’s side. “I’ll think about buying your car. I’m going to Santa Barbara for a vacation next week so I won’t see you for a little while. I’ll give you a call when I get back.”

That week, I went to both the eye specialist and my doctor. My vision was deteriorating and my kidneys were no better. I felt like crawling under a rock. Dying seemed to be my only solution. I phoned Michael and left a message on his answering machine. He would not be home from Santa Barbara for several days, but leaving the message and hearing his voice was a comfort.

Days passed. I sat in silence in my room and prayed for a miracle. The phone rang and I jumped out of the chair to answer it. “Wendy, what’s wrong?” asked Michael. I told him what the doctors had said as I swallowed back tears. “Hang in there, Wendy. I’ll come over tomorrow night and we can talk.” I was relieved that Michael was coming over on a Saturday night to help me. My self-worth was steadily slipping downhill.

“Please help me! I can’t handle any more.”

“There is a positive side to all this. You just can’t see it yet.”

When the doorbell rang the next night, Michael entered wearing a bright colored shirt and white shorts that emphasized his beautifully tanned legs. He had obviously enjoyed many hours basking in the Santa Barbara sunshine. Michael held me in his arms and I lost myself in his embrace. For a brief moment, I forgot about my health.

I sat beside Michael on the sofa and looked into his eyes with despair. “I feel very confused,” I said with tears running down my face. “Everything seemed to be going so well. I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere now.”

“It is difficult to see your own progress because you are in the middle of it.”

“I just don’t know what to do about my health.”

“All the things that happened to you in the past have affected the present.”

“I believe that, but how many people do you know who can totally let go of the past! You can’t change what has already happened, Michael.”

“Yes, but we can change the way we perceive the past. I did this with one of my childhood memories.” When Michael was a small child, he was playing by a lake with his brother. His father was going fishing and Michael wanted to go with him. His father sent Michael back to the cabin for life jackets. When he reached the shoreline, his father was already way out into the lake. Michael went hysterical because he felt abandoned.

“What an awful thing to do to a child!” I commented.

“I could have been content to play on shore with my brother, but I did not understand,” said Michael.

“My reaction would have been the same.”

“I worked this one through years later by viewing it in another way. Although my father did this, he still loved me. I visualized myself as a small child holding my father’s hand while walking with him along the shoreline. This changed the way I perceived the situation. What is reality anyway? We all see situations in different ways.”

“Let me understand. You healed those emotional scars by visualizing the experience as if it happened in another way.”

“That’s right.” Michael believed that the subconscious mind was affected equally by actual experience and thought experience. “Both have an effect on the psyche. What we think has the power to make us happy or sad. Emotions can have an effect on us physically by creating biochemical changes. In this way, our thoughts create our reality, even our physical health.”

“I guess forgiveness was another important part of that visualization too.” Michael nodded in agreement.

Michael’s wisdom made complete sense to me because of a study I had read about visualization techniques. Basketball players had improved their skill by visualizing that they were shooting perfect hoops. This simple mental work improved their skill almost as much as actual practice. Visualization was certainly a powerful tool.

“There are many childhood memories that I need to view in another way. How do I do this when there are such strong emotions related to them?” I inquired.

“My friend Imtiaz learned to look at the past in a different light,” said Michael. “Forgiveness was an important part of this change, and one of the keys to his healing of cancer.”

“I’ve been having interesting dreams lately, Michael. I had one about you last night. I dreamt that I was looking at you, and your face became my face and then your face. I don’t understand what it means.”

“There is a part of our life that happens in our sleep that we don’t understand. I believe that we can learn many things about ourselves from dreams.” Michael was silent for a moment and a strange look came over his face. He seemed to be contemplating the meaning of my dream.

“I’ve been writing again,” I said. “I am hoping to find answers that will help my health.” In high school, I had discovered something called automatic handwriting. This was done without thinking about the words that would flow across the page. It was as if the writing was done by someone else. Many experts believed that it was a way to tune into the subconscious levels of the mind.

“Writing is a good idea. We should become pen pals.” My body began to shake. I knew what Michael was about to say. “I’m going back to Santa Barbara to spend some time at the Institute for Holistic Studies. This is where I studied massage. We can write to each other every week.”

“I’m happy for you,” I said in an unconvincing tone. “But, I feel sad that you are leaving.”

“Sometimes sadness can be caused when something we want from someone is not fulfilled. We don’t have anything physical, so what is there to be sad about?”

What did Michael mean? We did not have a sexual relationship, but I would still miss his friendship. “When my brother would go on his world trips, I’d feel sad. You are as close to me as my brother.” I was not telling Michael the whole truth. I did not think of Michael as just a brother. I was in love with him and afraid to let him know my true feelings.

What had happened to Michael’s plans of buying a house in Calgary and opening a business? “When I came to Calgary last September, I told Imtiaz that I would be here until June. I didn’t realize the truth of that statement until now,” said Michael.

I felt sad as Michael massaged my body. It was difficult to hold back the tears because I wondered if I would ever see Michael again. He worked on me with the same love and devotion as all the other times. I felt a beautiful unity with him, a unity that happens when two souls unite toward a common goal.

After the massage, we shared a wonderful embrace that I wanted to last forever. I could feel his heart beating against my chest. I felt a connection with Michael that I did not understand.

“Parting is difficult,” said Michael. We embraced each other again and I looked into his beautiful blue eyes. I saw something special and familiar, but I still did not know what it was. Michael’s eyes called my soul.

“I wish you all the best. I love you, Michael. Thank you for all your help.”

I sat by the living room window and watched Michael put his massage table into the back of his van. Michael waved and honked the horn several times before driving down the street. I felt like a part of me was driving away with him. In my heart, I knew that part of loving Michael was to let him discover himself. But knowing this and living it were two different things.