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