Capital Spirit

Just because someone insisted… December 31, 2007

Over on the Capitals Message Boards, one of the regulars was asking me (again) what the story is on my healing skills.  Rather than tell the story there, go way off topic, and possibly get in trouble, I’ll tell the story here.  Here goes.

I’m a Level II Reconnective healer. 

Here is their website, and here is the book on Amazon, if you’re still interested after you’re done reading this.

Back in May of 2005, I took a three-day weekend’s worth of training from Dr. Eric Pearl.  There were about fifty other people who came out to this, most with a lot more initials after their names than me.  I’m not trained in any Western modalities–this is all I do.  So imagine how intimidated I was to walk into a roomful of medical professionals–some of whom already were in practice–and here I was, a well-informed medical layman and that’s it.

One part of the training quite frankly scared the heck out of me–I still remember how it felt.  It was Sunday, the last day, just before lunch.  All of us were taking turns at various points giving and receiving the energy, and it was my turn to play guinea pig.  So there I was, laying on a massage table, two people practicing on me, one on my left, one on my right.  I was in this really funky, hypnotic state (I’ve been under hypnosis several times, and I know how it feels.)  My eyes were closed, but behind my eyelids, I was seeing number grids and symbols I had never seen before.  Yet somehow, I knew those symbols were a non-human alphabet.  And that’s when I felt something brush my arm–very, very lightly.  It was like fabric…silk?  Gossamer?

My mind didn’t question it.  I remember thinking, “Oh, so that’s what an angel’s robe feels like.  WHAT?!”  And just like that, it stopped.  Which is consistent with what I know about angels: if you’re scared, and they can’t reassure you, they’ll back off right away.  After that session, we broke for lunch.  I was having a lot of trouble processing what had just happened.  The seminar was at…I want to say the Doubletree?–near Pentagon City.  So I went over to the mall, down to the food court, straight to Popeye’s, and ordered some jambalaya, which for me is comfort food (and the spicier, the better).

After I got done eating, I thought about cutting through the Metro station to get across Hayes Street (the crosswalk is EXTREMELY slow at that intersection.)  But I knew better: if I even set foot in that station, I would have been on the first train to anywhere in an absolute panic.  I did NOT want to go back there to confirm what I already knew had to be true.  That couldn’t have been…no way…

I walked across Hayes at street level.

I got back to the hotel, and I tracked down the woman who’d been working on my right side, where I’d felt that brushing.  She was wearing a knit sweater.  I explained what happened, and asked if I could touch the sweater.  It didn’t match.  I asked if there was any chance the person on the next table over might have bumped into me.  She said that was impossible: no one touched your arm.  Really.

I was standing near a wall, and I pretty much collapsed into it.  I was probably crying, but I can’t remember.  All I remember at that point was being very frightened–I’d just felt, for certain, the touch of something–someone–from beyond.  I had a pretty good idea who it was, too–and if it was who I thought it was, that made it that much more important.  And I knew this had to be real.  I’d been doing a lot of spirit work for a decade before that, and there were times I wondered if I was making this all up.  After that, I stopped doubting.

My life hasn’t really been the same since.  How could it be?  When you’re sensitive to higher energies, it makes you different.  Not different as in special–just different as in not the same.  For me, there’s no going back, for better or worse.  There are days when I really wonder if I’m the right person to be involved in this kind of work, but…it’s what I know I was meant to do, you know?

I’d never seen an NHL game at that point, either.  I’m not sure why I opted to get a Caps ticket for my birthday present to myself, but I did.  Caps-Bolts, October 16, 2005.  One of the lowest-attendance hockey games at Verizon Center, featuring a rebuilding team…and yet, I knew once I left that game that I had to go back.  And again.  And again…

Before that year was out, I was a Capitals planholder.  I signed on for the ’06-’07 season without thinking twice, and this year was a similar no-brainer.  I’d found something–a piece of the puzzle that didn’t make sense just yet.  In some ways, it still doesn’t.  But this is part of my journey–to be a fan of the Capitals, and to try to find the deeper, more spiritual truths of the game of hockey.

That’s what this blog is all about.

I know I haven’t gotten as in-depth with an explanation of my healing skills as some would like, but that at least is the background on what they are and how I came by them.

Questions?