I hear a young voice behind me. At first, I think it’s a boy. Turns out, it’s Mary Kate, a 7-year-old girl. She’s crying. Not loudly, but softly, as if she’s hurting somewhere no one can comfort.
Her mother is praying over me. She is administering a “pranic healing.” My eyes close. I envision this young woman, a school teacher, and a “healer” at a Skippack, PA, spiritual center, is removing negative particles surrounding my aura, my energy field.
Whoosh! There goes a hand sweeping across my head. I feel a light breeze. Although I am meditating, I am completely aware of my surroundings. I feel safe. Secure.
The childs asks for something. Mom responds, offering a compromise of sorts. The youngster rejects it, requesting something else, something more. How do I know this? Call it a “feeling” as I focus on the youth, wanting to help her. I want to ease her discomfort, so my healing could start.
I reach inside, into that well of “good” feelings. I call it Love with a capital “L.” It’s connected to energy all around me as well as within. We all have it. Some call it “Divine Love.” But, we rarely use it.
I “project ” that good feeling, that Love to the child, hoping to rid her suffering, her pain. Wave after wave of warmth washes over me as I open a gate to let whatever healing power there may exist, aid the young person.
Unconditionally. . .Compassionately. . .Lovingly.
Tears start, first at the crease of one of my eyes and then the other. Not bad tears, you know, the good ones that come at end of an old-time movie when the hero overcomes evil and saves the day. You know how it will end, but you watch because you like the way it makes you feel.