Smoking
More Healing Tales
"Diane," a young physician, was serving two fellowships in different universities. One required intensive study and research, while the other required being on-call to see pediatric patients. The jobs required frequent commuting between the two institutions and she also had a third job, moonlighting. Looking like something the proverbial cat had dragged in, she asked me for help with that "Therapeutic thing you do". When asked what was wrong, she said, "I'm sad". When asked what she wanted to work on, she said, "My spirit's broken." She had overestimated what she could do, between the two fellowships. She got very little sleep and was very tired. Nothing was physically wrong. She could sleep when given the chance, but was woken up every half hour from being on call.
When asked about other problems, she said she did not have any. We sat her in a chair and I said she did not have to do anything, just relax. Generally, she could keep her eyes shut, but she was allowed to peek. As I rebalanced her energy field using Therapeutic Touch, I asked her to mentally list, but not in any exhaustive way, perhaps more in a whimsical way, everything that was not wrong. No sleeping disorders. Did not have a boyfriend who beat her. No painful arthritis. "My tongue doesn't hurt," she said.
"OK, you can kind of let that list keep going on its own - everything that's not wrong - and now I'd like you to imagine that you're doing fun things. Perhaps some off-the-beaten-track things for you that you don't usually do, maybe bowling. I don't know. Skiing. But it's fun. And some things you do do for fun. And just kind of imagine these things, again, whimsically, in any way you like."
Assessing her energy field from behind, I felt heaviness behind the chair, beneath her butt, like a big, heavy, sad burden. Not a big butt, but just a big heaviness, weighing her down, like too much gravity. "OK, you can kind of let those fun things continue on their own, and now I'd like you to imagine that you're on a long journey. And you're carrying a heavy burden. And it's heavy, but it was easy at first. Then it became harder, but manageable. Then it began to chafe your shoulders. And then it became nearly impossible. And it occurred to you, that there are some things you need in this thing you're carrying, and some things you don't. They're all mixed in together. When you left, you threw in everything together. You didn't have time to sort. And now, you're going to put it down, and you're thinking how much fun it's going to be to sort through it, and take a little time, and keep the things you need, and leave the things you don't. And someone else may find them who does need them, and you have fun wondering about this. You may never meet the person, but it doesn't matter. And you're wondering, will you have half your burden left, or a quarter, or a third, or four-fifths, and you don't know that yet, but you know it will be lighter. And you're having a great time sorting through it, and you find this big, ugly, jagged thing that you definitely don't need, and you don't even know how it got in there. It wasn't even yours. Nobody wanted it. And you're going to leave it behind."
Already, Diane has visibly relaxed and a lightness has overtaken her bearing. She body looks relieved and like it's having fun.
"And imagine a child who is very sad --- because some beautiful thing, beautifully crafted, is broken, maybe a doll, a beautiful doll, maybe not, I don't know. But it's broken, and she's so sad, but you say to her that you have some healing glue, and you can fix this beautiful toy of the child's. And the child has a great deal of confidence in you, because you're Diane and also because you're a doctor. And you glue the thing together. It's not perfect, but the child believes that because it's healing glue, it's better than ever, and she hugs this beautiful thing you fixed, and she's so happy! And you think that you knew you were a good doctor, but you didn't realize that you could heal a spirit, with your healing glue, but you have."
Subtle, minuscule signals which I take in simply by instinct tell me that Diane is happy and relaxed. I leave her with the suggestion that she sit comfortably and rest for a minute or a little while, and that a minute of real relaxation might be equal to an hour, or a half hour, or twenty minutes, or a couple hours of sleep. And that she should be open to her ability to learn, as time goes by, how to relax deeply and restore herself in a short time. I have confidence she can learn this, she's learned so many wonderful things in life.
When Diane saw me a week later for a second session, she told me that the night of our first session she had realized there was something she had to hash out with a guy (not her boyfriend. She called him and they talked for an hour and a half. Following that, she felt like a burden had left her. "It felt just like that jagged thing in the story." She had gotten rid of it. She and this guy were now closer than ever. She had not thought of the story, but now this burden had lifted and she felt lighter.
"That's how the unconscious works. You don't realize right away, but you act on it."
Already, Diane looked different. She said things were not as bad as they had been. She was not as tired. She had a feeling of hope. Something had lightened. Her face looked focused in a good way, bright. Before, she had looked scattered and gray. Some kind of dread, gray depression was nibbling at her features. There was the look of a defeated child about her. Now there was the energy of a child shining through in a buoyant, hopeful, appealing way.
We worked, in a playful way, on issues of time and energy, and played a game with a calendar. By the end of that session, I turned the job of managing her stress over to her own healing spirit. Diane learned to handle her stressful situation to her satisfaction but, even better, she made a life decision to get a position that would not be stressful this way, and at the end of her fellowships, she found ONE job she was happy with.