Some time ago I conducted an Energy Healing Workshop at Michigan State University. The workshop was sold out, with people in attendance from many walks of life. One of those participants was a young woman in medical school. She was there because she had an acute pain in her colon that had persisted for many months. She had been to see conventional doctors. She had pursued every alternative therapy she could find. Nothing had worked. This workshop, she said, was her last hope.
I had her lay on a table with the first group of participants to be worked on. There were many tables filling the large room with three to four people per table working on the person now laying on the table. Every hour we’d rotate and a new person would lay on the table while the person who had just been worked on joined the group working on the new person.
This young woman was very attractive but considerably overweight. I showed the people in her group where to put their hands on her body to facilitate the release of her repressed trauma. I had one person put a hand on top of her liver, the other under her liver. I had another person put their hands on the soles of her feet and the third person put one hand on her forehead and the other under the back of her head. I told them it wouldn’t take long for her to “pop.” I’d be back as soon as she did.
Sure enough, her repressed trauma popped up quickly.Within minutes, she curled on her side and started sobbing. I came over and led her through the trauma. She was an infant of nine months laying in her crib. Her father came over and stood above her. At this point, she tried to turn away from the experience, forget it, and go unconscious. Her fear was palpable to all of us. Her whole body shook with terror. I told her not to run away. That it was time to face what happened long ago in her life. She was safe. It was a different time and her father was nowhere in sight. Now was the time to face her ghost and free herself from its hold over her. With that guidance, a huge scream ripped out of her. It was followed by deep sobs of pain and agony. She kicked and pounded the table with her fists. Her legs and arms vibrated and shook uncontrollably. Her clothes were soaking wet as if she’d been caught in a rainstorm. Time passed. Eventually the tempest stopped, the tears ended and she became peaceful, silent, still.
When she came around and opened her eyes I asked her what she had experienced. She confided that her father had sexually abused her.
I asked her how her colon was feeling. A surprised look came on her face as she focussed on her body. “It’s gone!” she said. “The pain’s gone!”
It never came back.
The workshop was held on a Saturday. The next Tuesday I ran into her at a food coop in East Lansing. She was in the back of the store when I entered. Seconds after I entered she came running up the aisle toward me, a big smile on her face.
“I felt your energy as soon as you walked in,” she said excitedly. “I can’t believe what’s happened to me since the workshop! I’ve lost twelve pounds without trying. I haven’t changed my diet at all.”
“That’s because you released what happened to you when you where 9 months old. You no longer need all that baby fat. It’s melting away.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “You’ve changed my life.”
She gave me a big hug and went back to shopping. I would see her one more time.
(To be continued.)