This is such a powerful healing story which offers healing gifts in so many ways we’d like to share it at least once a year.
We usually publish it around the Winter Solstice celebrations, a profound time to honor the dying away of the old and the bringing in of new healing energies, but this year, for whatever reason, we feel moved to share it a bit earlier.
In this story Kay is sharing an experience she had working with a client a few years back.
For privacy reasons she changed the client’s name; everything else tells the story of events during Kay’s work with her.
I worked extensively on Jane who was in a car accident earlier this year leaving her with bleeding in the brain and she fell into a coma shortly after the accident. I performed the ancient healing techniques on her twice a day.
As I worked on her in her last days she showed me what she was experiencing. She gifted me with a view and a taste of what she was discovering about life and death and choices.
On one of those days during medical procedures her heart stopped beating and she was resuscitated.
This stopping of her world and her life let all of her old worries and fears, her beliefs about her relationships, her self and the nature of existence fall away. She was dead, yet, still very much in existence; aware of her consciousness; aware of her physical environment. What she thought was so real and crucially important before, dissipated. She could see the truth of things. A world of different priorities sprang up around her.
What she had believed in before, the confining walls of her life and her interactions with her world, dissipated. As if it were all a tiny, dark, encrusted box that she once lived inside of and she watched it crumble away. This was the image she showed me and what was left was a giant horizon of a world full of brightness and loving energy. Everything looked fresh, different. New. And very much alive.
She could see others around her living from inside their own tiny boxes, unaware of the rest of the world, unaware of the life beyond the box, not comprehending the connectedness between all things, each thing unique but never unloved, never left out.
As she looked around into her new world she could see faraway places. She suddenly understood things that were unavailable to her before. The brightness and love and feeling of health and well being were everywhere. She was alive and aware of a different, bigger, paradigm.
She noticed that she was not inside her body nor was she relating much to her body.
Before the dying she was forcing herself to stay inside her body no matter how painful and difficult it was. But now she realized she didn’t have to do that; she could keep her body alive and not be subject to it’s discomforts.
As the hours and the days moved on she grew more and more curious about the new horizon and what was possible in this new perspective of the world.
She stayed close to her family, relishing her new insights into who they were and what kind of closeness and loving exchanges could occur with them within the new perspective. She felt very honored and touched that they were all there in the hospital so much of the time. She would sit with them and poor love out to them. She wanted so much to be able to ease their distress. She asked me to do healing on each of them.
The light and brightness of everything around her lured her. Little by little she let herself go out and explore the view of Earth and Life as she had never seen it before. And then return to be with her family.
As her understanding of her new perspective grew, she began asking me for specific types of energies and colors in the healings: golds and rainbows and sparking showers of lights. She was grasping what they did, their healing effects.
She was exploring more each day. There was a sense of freedom from the physical distresses and the stresses of daily life. She was having fun. There was a great adventure at hand. Once she had seen it, she wanted to fully experience it while her physical body was still alive.
When I was beginning the healing for that evening she greeted me with several of her spirit helpers offering me a thank you in the form of a healing for me. She wanted to give back, to give thanks. She said the healing energies with all their love and light that had been given to her helped shatter her little box when she had the dying experience and allowed her to wake up while her physical body was still alive. She even told me which of my healing processes she liked best and what worked and what didn’t work; another gift of thanks.
The next day as I approached her to do our regular healing she said to me that she would give me permission to do this healing but only if I went with her on a spirit adventure to Africa, to the big game reserve in Kenya. And before I knew what was happening we were off.
I thought I was giving her a healing and instead she was giving me one of the most precious gifts I’ve ever received: a view, a thorough tasting, from her new, out of the old box, perspective. She said one does not have to have a death experience or be dead to break out of their box. Anybody can do it.
What a delicious surprise! What a delicious landing!
We were at the edge of a little river in the savanna. Jane was sitting in her underwear, barefoot, in the mud, rubbing the water and dirt on her face. I had the distinct impression at that moment that she had been a woman that would never have been barefoot in that mud before let alone rub it on her face.
She was smelling the mud. Tasting it. I could feel her passion for it. It felt like being in love.
A momma hippo and her baby were just feet away. Jane was bathing in the smells and tastes of everything. She reached out to touch whatever was near, crawling in the mud to reach the baby hippo.
Her gift to me was sharing this sacred place complete with all the smells, tastes, textures, sounds and feelings.
The dirt had a characteristic smell unique to Africa. The breeze carried the sent of the trees and grasses. I smelt it all!
The animals grunting, snorting, trumpeting, barking – I could physically feel it in my ears. I could physically feel the ground thumping under their steps.
Elephants were only yards away. Jane got up and walked over to them, pulling me along with her. She leaned up into a tall female elephant, rubbing its skin as though she had never touched anything before. Her face nuzzling into the folds of the skin she breathed in deeply, smelling, relishing. I felt them as she felt them. Each so unique. Strong. Glorious. Wild. So alive.
We were with the elephants for some time and then she took me over to a nearby tree that was covered in blossoms. She reached slowly out to the tree, enjoying every second of moving her arms and shoulders. Smelling the blossoms, sweet and medicinal. One petal at a time into her mouth, entrenched in the taste.
The sounds of the savanna ebbing and receding. The barking of hyenas after a kill in the grasses far away. Water buffalo moving towards the river in the distance.
Jane took me through the grasses to see the face of a lion sleeping in the shade. And further on, a moment where a giraffe was moving through the trees.
Walking back to the river’s edge, it’s as if she had never felt herself walking before. She savored every step, playing with the dirt and plants with her toes, sniffing the air. I could feel her. She was relishing, bathing, in a world of deep beauty and aliveness that surrounded her. She wanted to feel everything, mingle and merge – with everything.
There was something else, something extra, about what she was seeing, feeling, smelling, tasting. There was a glow and movement of colors and lights in and around everything. The trees. The dirt. The water. The animals. The grass. The colors were full of aliveness and thoughts. They moved in and around each thing and from one thing to another. It was an energetic talking. Everything was talking to everything else. Conscious. Thinking. Sharing. Loving. And Jane was watching it all, partaking in it all. She was conversing with them.
She shared this hidden sacred view of life with me. A beauty more profound and exquisite and extensive than anything I had encountered. Colors like I had never seen before. Colors that held conversations and caring and life.
And then I heard something. Sound not unlike music coming from the nearby trees. They were singing. Not the sound of leaves in the wind. The sound was part of the light and colors that came from the core of each thing: the mud, the trees, the water, the air. It was delicate and almost other worldly. I was afraid to breath lest I lose their song.
We sat in the mud together with the baby hippo, feeling, smelling, listening, watching, tasting, touching. We walked in the middle of the herds, sharing, caring, giving, receiving.
Jane said this was what life is really all about.
A very big thank you to our dearest friend Ronnie for allowing us to share this story.
Please comment and share – thanks.