May Awareness Month: EDS and my life

May Awareness Month: EDS and my life

May is national Ehlers Danlos Syndrome awareness month. EDS is a genetic connective tissue disorder that affects many different body systems. The international symbol for EDS is the zebra. EDS is a rare disorder, like a zebra is rare compared to a horse.

I struggle with a hypermobility syndrome, most likely hypermobile EDS. Most of my joints move beyond a normal range of motion, causing injury and chronic pain. I also have gastrointestinal symptoms, respiratory symptoms, and eye problems. I have made a list of some of the ways EDS affects my life. I especially struggle with severe chronic pain. I want to help raise awareness of this syndrome for better medical treatments and public understanding.

1. My bendy joints help me to move.

My joints are flexible, and I have always enjoyed stretching and yoga. It is easy for me to get up and down from the floor. I am quite comfortable sitting in lotus for meditation. My hypermobile ankles give me a good, strong kick when I swim. Swimming is one of my favorite exercises, soothing my sore body.

2. Sports injuries are a constant struggle for me.

My hypermobile ankles and feet hurt when I run. I have suffered countless sprains because of the weak connective tissue in my ankles. Sometimes I sprain while walking around during my daily life. I have undergone complicated ankle surgery that left me still in pain. I have spent years in physical therapy. But I can rock a pair of crutches! Ehlers Danlos means that some days I walk and look normal, other days I have to use crutches or a cane to get around. read more

Healing Is So Much More Than Medicine

Healing Is So Much More Than Medicine

I am on crutches. Again.

I want to walk, to dance, to run. I want to count my steps in miles run through forests of moss and mist, not in painful hops from my couch to my car.

Healing is so much more than medicine.

“The X-ray shows a distal, non-displaced avulsion fracture of the 5th metatarsal,” the medical report says. “You tore a tendon and broke your foot,” the doctor explains to me.

Breaking is so much more than medicine.

Yes, I understand the medical jargon. I have done this before. I know that the X-ray means weeks of bone healing, months of soft tissue healing. Hopefully I can at least walk soon. Crutches are never easy. I have used them through so many sprains, fractures, joint surgery. But they never become easier. I don’t want the crutches, I want to run, I silently plead with the doctor. But the X-ray, and the pain, tell the truth.

I am terrible at sitting still. Crutches make me slow down and sit still. Just be. Listen inside to who I Am. To learn that there is poetry even in the pain.

I found my way into Reiki and natural healing through my earthly body which bends and breaks easily. Joint Hypermobility Syndrome. Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Connective tissue disorder, the doctors say. So many labels for my lifetime of strains, sprains, tendonitis, and fractures, the constant chronic joint pain that has accompanied me since childhood on this earth journey.

But the modern medical system can’t put a label on the spiritual parts of my aching body. How do you label a spirit stronger than its earthly body? I don’t want to break, I want to fly. Reiki helps me to find balance. The splint holds the bones in place while Reiki and prayer hold my spirit in place.

The hardest part is drowning out all the noise of the world around me, and my own inner chatter, to listen to the healing voice of the Holy Spirit. I hold my broken foot in the healing power of Reiki. I gently massage the joints, feeling the heat flow through my hands, and the healing blood flow through my veins. I hear the Holy Spirit singing healing over me. I remember the songs I have learned from the trees through the years.

Healing is so much more than medicine.

Breaking is so much more than medicine.

I was a serious runner when I was younger. I smashed 5Ks, 10Ks, and half marathons as I pressed toward the legendary 26.2 miles. I celebrated a 25 mile training run through immense pain. I ignored my body’s cry to stop. I tried to outrun the pressures of grad school. I ignored my spirit’s cry to stop. My ankle quit completely as I limped into a first aid tent, not able to complete the marathon.

I spent eight years healing from ankle injuries after that. I tried so hard to run, but there were times I couldn’t even walk. Months of crutches. Years of heartache. Breaking.

There were doctors who told me I would never run again. I did not believe them. I used Reiki to heal my spirit. I used lavender and Epsom salts to heal the physical pain of walking. I kept pressing on toward my goal.

Then last January, God sent me to a wise physical therapist. She helped me take one pain free step, then another. I worked hard on the exercises she assigned, months of baby steps back to running. Soon I ran for one minute. Then five minutes. Then a half mile. Finally the mile.

The mile! My spirit was flying. Oh how I celebrated that moment. Healing is so much more than medicine.

In my excitement I took things too fast. On New Year’s Day, eight months after that first mile, I ran a 10k. I celebrated the accomplishment, but my feet ached from the effort. That week, I stubbed my toe and my battered foot bone cracked. My will to reach my goal was yet again stronger than my joints. Mind over matter rarely works out well for me.

So now I am enjoying time in the pool. I can still walk in the support of the water, still swim, slowly. People say that swimming is the closest human movement on earth to flying. Water is spiritual. I think of all the stories of healing water in the Bible. The angels stirred the healing waters at the pool of Bethesda, the house of grace. Jesus healed a paralyzed man there. I listen inside to the Holy Spirit as I swim and move and fly. I pray for the water to heal me.

Healing. Slowly.

I listen to the wisdom of my body, the wisdom of I Am, the healing that is more than medicine. Through Reiki and the healing of the Holy Spirit, soon enough I will run. Again.

 

 

Image Credits: Heather Katsoulis, "Cora's Friend".

Roses, Peace, and Good Vibrations: Healing at the Park

Roses, Peace, and Good Vibrations: Healing at the Park

I had a fun time with my son on Sunday. The weather was perfect; summer is such a beautiful season in Minnesota. Somehow my cares, worries, and burdens seem to melt away as I enjoy the warm summer sun and cool northern breeze. I spend so much of my time and energy advocating for the poor and oppressed and worrying about peace and all the greed and problems in the world. Taking a day playing outside with my son refreshes my soul from these burdens.

The Rose Garden

First we went to the rose garden. We looked at all the beautiful pink, reds, and goldens made even more vibrant by this record wet summer. I taught my son how to breathe in the fragrance of the roses, to slow down for a quiet moment and learn from the unpretentious gift of the flowers. The roses do not struggle and compete with each other in ego shows of pomp and beauty; each bloom is crafted by the hands of fairies and nature spirits guided by the love of the Creator. Each bloom contributes its own unique color and fragrance to create a rainbow garden of one. If only we humans learned to live in contentment and oneness like the flowers. Peace.

The Peace Garden

After the rose garden, we visited the peace garden. This was a timeless place of rocks and perennial flowers, standing strong through storms of nature, and the chaos of human destruction. The rocks, flowers, and trees stand in witness at the darkness of human behavior, and wait for the day when evil will end and the oppressed and the needy receive justice. In Isaiah 55, the prophet poetically spoke of the day when evil repents and the poor have all they need. Verse 12 (NIV):

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

The trees have hands, and voices. At the peace park, my son wanted a leaf. I taught him to ask the tree’s permission for the gift. We felt the tree’s pain and saw holes in its leaves. We laid our hands on the tree in a gentle exchange of Reiki. The breeze rustled through the leaves as the tree murmured its appreciation. The most poignant moment of the day came next as we walked to the peace crane memorial. This is a statue of a paper crane, in memory of a young Japanese girl who died of radiation cancer from the bombing of Hiroshima. Before she flew away from this earth, she folded hundreds of these cranes in a Japanese traditional wish for peace. My son is still too young to understand this tragedy, but we folded a crane together to add to the thousands of other wishes for world peace.

Vibrations In The Park

We left our wishes at the peace garden and headed to the park for a picnic and fun together. We took off our shoes and wiggled our toes in the cool grass and warm gravel. With feet bare, we could feel the vibrations of the earth. Good vibrations. Healing vibrations. We do not spend enough time barefoot outdoors in modern civilization. The earth is alive and constantly vibrating beneath our feet with spiritual frequencies that help us to ground and center our souls on this plane. Wearing shoes and hurrying from place to place dampens these vibrations. I enjoyed reconnecting with the earth with my son. I also enjoyed playing with my child. Play is imagination is the Spirit and is healing. We climbed ladders, went on an imaginary bus ride, and rode the swings. We ended our day with a healthy body-nourishing picnic lunch and soul-nourishing treat at the ice cream parlour. It was a wonderful day of child-like fun, learning, and healing. A day of smelling roses and touching the peace of heaven, the kingdom of Yeshua. Take time today,  friends,  to explore the beauty and vibrations that still exist in a world of pain and chaos. Embrace the park and the light.

Reiki: Realigning the Spirit Body and the Physical Body

Reiki: Realigning the Spirit Body and the Physical Body

Every person, indeed every living thing on this planet, is surrounded by an invisible energy body. (Actually, you can train yourself to see this energy, the aura, through your spiritual eyes, but most people still rely only on their physical eyes). This energy body also surrounds the spirit body, connecting the physical realm and the spiritual realm.

I am often asked, what is the spirit body? The spirit body is our invisible consciousness, our higher thinking self, the body we exist in both before and after our earthly journey. Too many people foolishly waste too much energy focusing on their physical bodies, chasing after youthful looks, and even undergoing surgeries to try to look more beautiful, which is itself only a definition invented by one’s society.

Although you should take care of the health of your physical body, you are wise to focus your energy on nurturing and developing your spirit body. This is the consciousness and wisdom you will take with you when you cross over to the other side. Through meditation, prayer, reading, listening to and viewing the works of spiritually wise artists, and communicating with other spiritual seekers, you will develop spiritual beauty, and you will find true wisdom.

When I conduct Reiki healing sessions over people, I sometimes have the impression that the person needs to reclaim their space, to make themselves “bigger.” This has certainly been true for me personally, as I grew up in a family that constantly degraded my physical achievements and mocked my spirituality, saying it was “of the devil.” Consequently, as a young child, I learned to hide, keep my imaginary friends locked away inside, and try to make myself small. This crowded my energy body, and caused wounds in my spirit body.

I believe that most, if not all, chronic pain exists in the spirit body. That is why Western medicine has a hard time healing chronic pain. I see these issues constantly with people seeking Reiki healing. I am glad that they discovered Reiki, because I believe energy healing holds the key to realigning and spacing out the entire energy body for healing of both spirit body and physical body.

I knew one woman who struggled with headaches so severe that she could not work or even get out of bed for days at a time. She had visited many doctors who had given her many drugs and even recommended delicate surgery. But still, she struggled with pain. As I worked with her through Reiki, she shared with me some of her past, dealing with parents who belittled her intuitive spirituality and her love of art.

I cried when she told me of the poetry that she wrote as a high schooler that is still locked away in her dresser drawer, unseen and unheard. She needs to write, our world desperately needs her voice. No wonder she has headaches. Her spiritual voice is constantly struggling for release, but her energy body is misaligned by the damaging words of others. I used my hands to smooth out the disturbances I felt, and I encouraged her to go home and write. She did so, and slowly her headaches began to get better. Today she is able to work most of the time, and she only takes minimum pain medicine. The Holy Spirit is wooing her in love to come out with her voice. I think it is amazing.

Friends, if you are struggling, meditate on making your energy body bigger, taking up the room in the world for which it was meant. Create art and release your voice to realign your energy body. Flow in the love of the Holy Spirit and seek Reiki healing. Your life will surely change.

Picture used royalty-free, courtesy of k vohsen on sxc.hu

Gaining New Sight

 

Photo used freely, courtesy of Brybs on stock.xchng
Photo used freely, courtesy of Brybs on stock.xchng

I have often said that I am a healer in need of healing. All of the best spiritual healers in the world have suffered many ailments. It takes deep empathy to learn the art of healing. I often pray to walk a mile in another person’s shoes so I can change my world.

Right now I am in great need of healing. I have developed a cataract in one eye that is progressing very rapidly. The diagnosis shocked me, because I am only 32 years old. As much as I know about medicine, I always thought of cataracts as only a disease of advanced age.

I have been near-sighted most of my life, so, ironically, my problem started when my eye suddenly got much better and my glasses were uncomfortable. I went to the optometrist, and she had to change my glass prescription three times in a month, ultimately cutting my prescription in half.

Unfortunately, with each prescription change, I noticed a cloud starting to descend on my vision, like looking at the world through the spreading fog of a bathroom mirror after a hot shower. I also started to lose my near vision, even as my far vision got better. This hurts me because I love to read and write, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to do so. Working on my websites has also become a challenge.

I have an appointment with another opthalmologist, but they have already said that surgery may be my only option. I do not want to follow that path right now. I had a horrible experience with ankle surgery, and I am not eager to have surgery again. I know that Western medicine has its place, but I want to pursue holistic healing first.

I am practicing Reiki and meditation with my vision. Maybe this is a life lesson for me on my spiritual path. Perhaps my spiritual vision is affecting my physical vision; a temporary foggy patch as I ascend the clouds to another level of the mountain. I also think I need to learn to rest my eyes more, just rest in general. I have a high-stress day job, and maybe resting my eyes is a way to help me learn to calm down more and let all my worries fly away.

I am also learning to empathize with those who struggle to see in any way. I have thought often lately of the story in the Bible about the blind man whom Jesus healed (Mark 8). When Jesus first put his hands on the man’s eyes, the man said he saw “people looking like trees walking around.” Jesus then put his hands on the man a second time and he was healed completely.

I always thought this story was a bit odd. Why did he see people like trees? Now I can empathize, because the blurriness and fogginess that I am experiencing looks somewhat like that description.

This story also reminds me that healing takes time. The miracle may not happen completely or at all on the first attempt, even for the greatest Healer of all time. Maybe the man was not quite ready to see. Maybe he still had fears. After all, if he had been blind for most or all of his life, learning to see, although a great gift, would completely change his identity.

This principle is also true of the first week, or the first year, or the first decade of the healing process. Healing is a soul journey as much as a physical one. I want to participate fully in this journey. I believe that I will come out the other side with my vision restored, and even better than it was before.

I bless you on the healing journey, friends, and I would appreciate if you could send a little Reiki and healing energy my way as well.

Can Pain Be My Medicine?

pain as medicine
Photo by kaniths, used freely on stock.xchng

Is pain something to be avoided at all costs? Or can pain be my friend, my teacher, my companion on the spiritual journey?

Where does pain come from? This is a deep question that neither doctors nor philosophers can adequately answer. If I cut my finger or place my hand on a hot iron, my nerves fire lightning-speed, and my brain tells my muscles to withdraw. This is a natural protective response in our physical bodies to protect us from physical harm. Scientists call it the sympathetic nervous system.

But what about spiritual pain? How can we protect our spirit-bodies from injury? Intuition is key here. If you have a “gut feeling” about something, you should always follow that instinct. As a matter of fact, scientists say that the third nervous system of our physical bodies, called the enteric nervous system, is housed in our digestive system. Our guts can literally “think” for themselves, even if completely cut off from the brain. Our enteric nervous system holds most of our serotonin and dopamine receptors, our emotional center, and the enteric nervous system partners with the brain to process these emotions. We call this our “heart” feelings or “butterflies in our stomach.” And, again, butterflies are very spiritual. There are many connections here. Shamans and tribal people have often referred to the stomach as the origin of pain and the origin of healing, the seat of understanding.

Each person’s pain is unique, and I believe that all pain is a mixture of the physical, emotional, and spiritual. We cannot separate these parts of our being. If you fall down and break your ankle,your body has a marvelous power to mend the bones back together, but your spirit tends to hold the memory of that traumatic event in that joint. I struggle a lot with ankle pain, but I am learning to let go. I used to be a long-distance runner, something that I really enjoyed doing. When I developed severe tendonitis in my ankle, and could no longer run, I also suffered the emotional injury of losing an activity that I loved. In addition, I had wrapped part of my identity around being thin and “fit,” and my spirit body had experienced the pain of me rejecting my true self for a cultural ideal. There are many layers of pain, and unraveling all of this has taken me years of work, and is still a journey.

The pain is my teacher and guide to help me understand where I have strayed from my deepest self. For another example, when I was studying at the conservatory as a classical clarinetist, I developed severe, intractable pain in my arms and back. Some days I could hardly walk or lift anything or even get out of bed. It got so bad that I was forced to put down my instrument completely for a period of time.

But where did all this pain come from? Did I simply practice too much? Not really. The pain started out as an emotion. I beat myself up in the practice room over every little mistake, punishing myself for every imperfection in my last lesson or recital. My spirit shriveled under my self-abuse, and under the harsh words of my teachers, who themselves struggled with ego and emotional pain. The result eventually became physical pain in my body.

The pain was my wake-up call. The pain was my medicine. The pain forced me to look at my emotions and my beat-up spirit body. In the forced break from my instrument, I slowly learned the importance of refuge, rest, and nurturing of my spiritual self.

I am still a healer on a healing journey for myself. Sometimes when I do a Reiki session with another person, I feel their pain in my own body. My spirit connects with their spirit so deeply that I join them, if only briefly, on their spiritual journey. The pain is the guide to the healing. We are called to help bear one another’s burdens, and this pain is medicine, too.

If you are struggling with pain anywhere in your body or psyche today, listen to the pain. Welcome the pain as a guide and companion for your journey. Don’t just flush it away with another pill and ignore it (although there is certainly a time and a place for medicine). What is your spirit trying to communicate to your physical body? What memory do you need to process and release? What is causing tension and friction in your life, and how can you release that?

Breathe deeply, drink in the new day, and embrace your pain so that you can live in true healing.

Namaste, my friends.

Running Shoe

 

Photo used under creative commons license by Sharon Drummond on flickr.com
Photo used under creative commons license by Sharon Drummond on flickr.com

This is a story that I created for a writing class that I am taking. The teacher challenged us to use a shoe as metaphor, and this is my response. Several years ago, when I was a music student in graduate school, a marathon runner, and a wounded soul just beginning to discover my path of healing, I experienced a brutal ankle injury. Here is my memory of that time.

***

The shoe sits by my door, new dust of neglect mixing with the old dust of races won and lost. The shoe looks lonely, like a puppy waiting by the door, leash in mouth, looking for her owner to come home for a walk. But the outing will have to wait for a brighter day.

Months earlier, I had sat on the edge of the doctor’s table. “Take off your shoes, please,” he mumbled as he stared at the X-ray. “Well, there’s nothing broken, but you will have to lay off running for a while.” He took my bare foot in his hand and gently flexed my ankle. “Does that hurt?”

Does that hurt? I wanted to scream at him. If it didn’t hurt, why would I be here? Please, fix it now. I have a race this weekend, and then in two weeks, the big one. The marathon. I have trained all year for this race. Eight miles a day. Twenty-mile-plus runs on the weekend. Does that hurt? Yeah, but the pain is good, right? Just breathe, Amy. Just breathe.

I stared at the doctor. He picked up my shoe and studied the bottom, looking for some clue in the wear pattern. Was there something wrong with my gait? Maybe a pebble had gotten lodged in some deep crevice, making me limp, ever so slightly, changing the balance.

Balance.

New Balance.

That was the name of this pair of shoes. Ironic. My life seems so out of balance right now. There is so much pressure in grad school. Perform, perform, perform. Audition next week. Get those études perfect. Come on, I expected more out of you. You call that music?

Running is my escape. I lace up my shoes and let them take me deep into the woods, and I meditate to the rhythm of my shoes on the path and the trees whispering around me.

But now the shoes and the trees are silent. I only hear the ticking clock in the doctor’s office. He has left the room to go talk to someone. He comes back with a prescription for pain medicine  and physical therapy. He looks at me sternly. “Take it easy. Keep your weight off that ankle as much as possible and DO NOT run.” I nod my head and get up to leave. I see compassion in his gaze as he watches me, and I think I hear him whisper, “I know how it is. I miss my shoes, too.”

I cannot stay away. I load up on pain drugs, and I hobble to the race. The physical pain in my ankle is nothing compared to the emotional pain that I can beat away on the pavement. Maybe it’s an addiction. Maybe I can erase the pain of my past and all the abuse and hurtful words by running them into the ground. My running shoes are an escape valve for my exploding heart. I am excited by the cheers of the race-day crowd, and I breathe deeply of the brisk autumn air tickling the red and gold leaves on the trees. I am propelled forward by a physical high, my body responding to injury upon injury by supplying an extraordinary, primal adrenaline rush. I finish the race with a new personal best time.

Then I collapse in the first aid tent, pain coursing through my foot like a hammer crushing through my dreams.

A friend takes me back to the doctor. I have to trade my shoe for a walking cast and crutches. The doctor looks at the pain in my eyes, and he holds back his lecture. Instead, he pats me on the shoulder and says, “You will get better, in time. Give it time.”

The damage is complete, and complications ensue. I end up traversing seven months on crutches, two surgeries, and almost a year of physical therapy before I can walk normally again. While the storm rages, I learn to invite the rain to begin healing the deep places in my soul and make peace with my music and my past. At the end of the year, I hobble across the graduation stage, minus one shoe, but plus seven months of a lifetime of wisdom.

The Joy of Life

The Joy of Life

I have a serious personality, too often expressed through the tears falling on my pillow. I feel the pain of others wherever I go, and I am so connected to the spirit realm that I can sometimes feel the pain of those who have crossed over. All of this is a weight on my body, and is connected to my own issues with chronic joint pain.

I am a healer in need of healing.

I am in good company. Hildegard von Bingen, a vibrant Catholic mystic, struggled with migraine headaches, violent, painful auras in which she learned deep spiritual truths. Two of my favorite authors struggled with pain and despite this, or more likely, because of their pain, they wrote deeply and brilliantly about the human condition. Fyodor Dostoyevsky, had epilepsy, perhaps due to his violent encounters with a government who tried to kill him and silence his work. Ernest Hemingway struggled with chronic pain, emotional and physical, so severe that he eventually committed suicide. Even Jesus often went away to silent places to pray, and I imagine he had great emotional and even physical pain. He was certainly an empath, and the Bible says that he bore the weight of humanity on his body.

I have been meditating on the source of my pain, and the Holy Spirit whispers to me that I need to find Joy. The Joy of Life. Even as I look at the ugly parts of human society which put people in bondage and oppression, there is another side of human love. I am reminded of this when all the children in my preschool class, which I teach, run up and gleefully yell my name as they hug me every morning when I enter the classroom. If I leave and come back only ten minutes later, they do it again, the joy of their boundless child love shared through their smiles and arms.

I am reminded of the joy of life when I see another person give change to a homeless man on the street or give a place to stay for an orphaned teenager. I know joy when I see a group of Christians embrace a group of homosexuals in a show, or even an attempt, of love and understanding. I know joy when I see a mother kiss the head of her wide-eyed newborn.

I see joy when I look at the trees and flowers on a sunny day or marvel at the cloud formations in a coming storm. Joy is all around me, a gift of nature and the Universe to help me through this earthly journey. Today, I will purpose to let go of my pain and pursue the joy of life.

Broken Glasses, Body Memories

broken glasses
Photo used freely, courtesy of jfg on stock.xchng

Healing is a journey taken deep within. Your body holds the memories of all the pains and injustices felt throughout your life. Pain can be covered up by a pill or bandage, but to get rid of pain completely, you must do the hard work of processing and forgiving traumas.

Sometimes the healer needs healing. This is the case in my own life. Although I do Reiki over others, I need its power for myself as well. Today on the 4th of July, I woke up with a swollen, droopy, teary eye. It is painful, but more annoying than harmful. Still, my eye is trying to tell me something. I placed a cold compress to ease the pain, and I sat down to meditate. I thought back to last year on the 4th of July.

The fireworks burst over my friend’s house, high above the Michigan trees, adding to the sizzle of the hottest summer on record. I sat on the steps of the camper trailer in his yard, my temporary home with my husband and young son. At least I felt grateful to have a bed and a shelter from the elements.

But, to make matters worse, I wore a pair of broken glasses. Earlier that week, I had set my glasses on top of my car while I put on my sunglasses, and then forgotten about them. A half hour later, I arrived at my destination.  I looked in my car to take off my sunglasses, and change back into my regular glasses, but, to my horror, I could not find the glasses. I panicked. To say that I am blind as a bat is insulting to the bat. I am sorely dependent upon my glasses.

I turned my car around and drove back to my friend’s house, slowly, scouring the road for any sign of optical life. I found the glasses laying in their case in the middle of the road, cars going by on both sides. I parked my car and waited for the traffic to clear. I nabbed my specs, still nestled in their cracked case, and took them back to my car. Hands shaking, I opened the case.

The glasses lay with frame twisted and mangled. I moaned to my husband, “What am I going to do?”

He replied, “Look closer.”

In the middle of the carnage, a miracle. God only knows how many times cars had run over the glasses, yet the lenses stayed completely intact. Not a scratch. God had worked a small miracle for me. It is amazing that with all of the world problems occupying his time, God still sent an angel to watch over my glasses.

I pieced the frame back together, and I actually formed a cool design with the tape. Still, I mourned because I had no money for an eye exam or new glasses. I know that sounds pitiful and ungrateful, but it felt like the last straw in a series of misfortunes. I was also hobbling around on crutches at this point with a severely sprained, maybe broken, ankle and no insurance to see a doctor.  Still, again, God  had supplied those crutches.

I felt all alone in the world.  My family and most of my friends had disowned me simply because they believed in a hateful church doctrine with which I disagreed. They had thrown the gambit, and I had chosen to pursue the path of Love and the universe. Did anyone care about my struggles?

Months went by and things slowly got better for me and my little family. We moved to Minnesota and found work, and I bought new glasses. Through Reiki, time, and the innate healing powers of my own body, my ankle healed. Small miracles.

Yet, my body holds these painful memories. With meditation, Reiki, and prayer, I am learning to let go and make room for true healing.

If you are hurting today, listen to the message of your body. Meditate on the root of your pain, large or small. Let your muscles relax, and release those memories to the Universe. Forgive all the wrongs you have experienced. Forgiveness does not make the actions right or just, it only releases the injustice to the hands of karma and the great Judge.

Let go and let the healing flow!

Heart Disease

heart disease reiki
Image used freely, courtesy of spekulator on stock.xchng

We are a society at dis-ease. According to the CDC, The number one cause of death in the United States is heart disease. We are a heartsick nation.

We are a nation of fast food, fast appointments, and fast lives. We have Fast Company magazine, touting all our latest and greatest productivity. We rush past the homeless man on our 30 minute lunch break, so as not to disturb the almighty production. We are too busy to help the single mom struggling to get her baby and her groceries on the bus as we rush to our next appointment and our kid’s soccer match. We are too fast to care. We leave behind the helpless and the hurting, and we leave behind a vital piece of our heart.

This speed breaks our hearts. This uncaring breaks our hearts.

We yell in aggression at the traffic, and our hearts speed up, tick-tocking ever closer to destruction. We rail against paying taxes to help another “sucking welfare leech” and our hearts crack a little more under the weight of uncaring. Our hearts were made to care and love. To beat for each other in the sea of human connection. To take time to help the lonely child and look at the lowly flower.

Reiki is healing energy, but the healing comes from within. Reiki alone cannot stop heart disease started by a fast, angry, uncaring existence. True healing comes from opening the heart. Slowing down to help and to love.

The Holy Spirit longs to heal our heart and society dis-ease. Will we take the time to slow down and listen to her gentle call of wisdom?

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