Feelers… Whoa. Whoa.
Whoa. Whoa Feelers…
If you can remember the 1974 song “Feelings”, by Morris
Albert, sung by him and at times Andy Williams. That’s the tune I had going
through my head as a thought crossed my mind. It was as, ‘what I would write
for my non-fiction writing today’. After my morning clients and a brief
five mile run, I knew I hadn’t yet written a short piece today. I’d been writing
every morning over the past two weeks. I write non-fiction in the early morning
and work on fiction book pieces and screenplays in the afternoon and/or evening
hours after work and training/running. And ‘no’, I don’t sleep.
In my run today, I’d just seen someone I knew, out walking a
dog. I expressed something to her and added, “I know this because I’ve touched
bodies for a living. It’s what I do.” On that thought, our feelings many times are
our feelers. Some of us are not in tune
with those feelers. Which I could compare to either the roots of trees that
grow out and down into and onto the surface as if each tree type were of human origin.
Take a pine tree’s roots which can be as far out from the
center of the tree as twice the height of the tree. And the depth of the roots
of a pine tree can be as much as three feet deep. Whereas most other trees,
such as maple or oak trees have a shorter roots. Reaching down into the ground usually
no more than twelve to eighteen inches. The widths may span as far as four to
seven times the width of the tree’s crown. I will venture to say that the crown of a tree
would be comparatively a smaller diameter versus the height of an old pine
tree. Yet, it all depends on the space it is into.
This brings me to the human capacity of the depth of how we
feel and initiate our feelers. For what ever reason, I have worked on,
maintained and expanded my feelers. However, I think all beings can do
this. It’s a choice. The more we feel,
perhaps there is more fullness in our ability to feel other’s existence and
feelings. I’ll give an example. Nearly fifteen years ago a relative I’d known
most of my life, wanted to see me. They
arrived in my office one Friday morning after calling me, stating they needed
my expertise. They felt ill or injured
they weren’t really sure which it was.
They arrived in my office as I was finishing up with another
person in one of my treatment rooms. I
said good-bye to her. Then as she exited, I took one look at him. He didn’t look like he was completely there.
I don’t mean that he was on drugs or drunk.
Quite to the contrary. It was
spiritually, something was missing. I
went to welcome him, giving him a hug. I felt no one inside the vessel. When I gave
him a hug, it felt like he’d left the building.
I knew then he was in trouble. I felt death when I hugged him. The
spirit had left his body. Death to me at times feels like an old piece of
driftwood. It has no entity, no warmth. It’s empty.
As I brought him into the treatment room, he did not realize
that he could barely handle even gentle touch to his back, which he thought was
the problem. I sat him up on my treatment
table. I said, “You know, you need to see a doctor. You’re very sick.” With my license, I have to
refrain from diagnosing. I’m not allowed to diagnose, and I told him so. I kept
my thoughts to myself, that I knew he had a form of metastatic cancer and there
was no coming back. He was already dead. The next time I saw him, was seven
weeks later, mostly brain-dead, on a ventilator, in a coma. He was now a dead
body living on machines. He never knew he had cancer, but the medical community
saw the mass that was crushing his ventricles, arteries and heart to death. He
never came back.
I found out later that, he saw one doctor twice, after he’d
seen me. The second time the doctor said
that he was in deep trouble. The doctor
didn’t say what he felt. Yet that it was
urgent.
About a decade or so ago, I was having tea with a friend. I
warned her, I said, “You have too much anger in your system. Your liver is going. If you don’t take care
of it, you’re going to get very sick.”
She was my friend, I hated that I had the urge to warn her of an illness
I foresaw. I don’t know how I felt it at the restaurant as we shared conversation,
soup and tea. But to my surprise the words for me to speak freely arrived, and
came out of my mouth to her. She, being well-schooled in her medical field and
all. She just looked at me, as she’d taken a sip of her soup. It was a stare of a knowing, I saw in her
eyes. She knew about what I understood about her position in life. Which
included her caring too much. Yet, I knew she was not being aided in helping her
parents. Her siblings let her do it all, as she being the oldest of the
children.
Four months passed, she called me. She was ill.
She wanted to see me. The next day she arrived in my office. With a serious look on her face she said,
“Jody, they don’t know what’s wrong with me.
They say it’s my liver.” It was. Part of it had become necrotic. She
asked me if I knew if she would get better. I felt it in the air and around
her. I listened and felt the body’s
responses to my thoughts. I didn’t verbalize to her my thoughts. I asked her
for her permission to speak to her soul. She granted it. I remained quiet and
spoke spirit to spirit. We finished and I told her more than likely the doctors
will use what your body has to offer. I knew the answers were within her
realm.
About two weeks later the doctor, who was an expert in the
field, expressed that he would do blood-letting on her. Yep, you heard me blood-letting. No drugs
were involved. She had a rare disease of the liver, which women do not get. The
only thing that tipped her off, was her constant unexplainable fatigue, that
had occurred for the past two months; two months after our tea and soup lunch
we had together. Then she remembered our
conversation. She is now all better. But she could’ve died, because she was
dying slowly.
I’ve had women walk in after being misdiagnosed by multiple medical
doctors, doctors explaining that they were either ‘just depressed’ or ‘it
was …in their head’. If I sense that it’s out of my realm, I express it to
them. Then I give them the phone number
of a neurologist or a specialist, if I think that’s the direction they should
go in. I’ve encouraged men and women to
get re-evaluated on their glycemic levels.
I had a man express that there was nothing wrong with his heart. However, I felt he had the signs of
congestive heart-failure. He cursed at
me as I urged him not to take the session he’d booked with me. Yet I wanted him seen by at least his internist
and or a cardiologist immediately.
That same man two months later, called me up and apologized
greatly and thanked me. He had lasted another six weeks after cursing at me as
I made him call his doctors. Then as he was jogging on a treadmill in a gym, he
heard my voice in his head. He felt awful.
He drove himself to a local hospital, where they diagnosed him with
congestive heart-failure. He made it out
alive five days later and called me to thank me.
I’ve touched people who were dying, young and old. I’ve seen
nearly ghost-like figures of people leaving as they were suffering. It’s not that they were a ghost, it was that
they presented as they could no longer be here.
It was time for them to leave, so their vessel was being vacated by
their spirit. I’ve also felt death in bodies, that appear to remain whole,
spirit still intact inside the vessel of being human. Yet, I knew nearly to the
day as to when they would die. I would know it months before. Why? Because I
feel it.
This aforementioned items, are a miniscule amount of what my
feelers have brought into my essence of knowing people’s departures, accidents,
joy, sadness, goodness, elevation in life, etc… We as humans cannot predict
much very well. Yet, we have the
capacity to make conscious contact with a Divine knowing. What we attain from that, for the rest of humanity
I do not know. But for me, it reaffirms
that we are all Divinely created. And if
we really want understanding, and peace, we just have to be available to the
Divine with our Divine structure.----Jody-Lynn Reicher
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