Whether you believe in healing hands or not is totally irrelevant here. I do believe in healing. I am a proud, card carrying Pagan. I have a very spiritual outlook and have always had the desire to heal in my blood. Ever since I was a little girl and I would put bandages on my teddies and put my poor mum through hours of being my “patient”, I knew that this was more than just a game for me. It was what I was. Then my mum became ill for real. My ‘father’ was too busy screwing his whore. He had no thought for us at all. I was left to nurse my dying mum with no help or support at the age of 15. It was a hellish time of my life. Yet despite that, I felt proud to nurse her. I did not want anyone else to do it. It felt like my duty. Then she became worse, and was taken into hospital, where she died three days later. I was broken. What kept me from going under was knowing that I had given her love and care to the best of my ability. She deserved to be honoured as her life drew towards its close.
This was when I knew that I was going to be a nurse. Healing was in my blood already, but my decision on nursing came about as my mum was dying. The support that I was given by the staff looking after my mum was just appalling. I was never noticed. Hell, my mum wasn’t noticed and she was supposed to be their patient! My mum’s death was not a pleasant one. She died in agony and not knowing who I was. The morphine claimed her mind, but not her pain. Once my mum had died, I was basically ignored by the staff on the ward. One even went as far as to say, “Oh, are you still here?” I was devastated. I felt that if I could prevent even just one person from having a lousy experience like that then I had to do it. Hence the motivation to become a nurse. The fire in my belly was lit.
Yet as I went through my nurse training, I began to notice certain things. When I gave injections, I would be told that I was the only person who didn’t hurt them. When I held a patient’s hand when they were distressed, they would calm within seconds. When I spoke to irate relatives, they would calm quickly. This all made me feel that I was doing my job to the absolute best of my ability. All these things made me feel like I had been right to trust my instincts. I was a healer. I had chosen the right path.
I decided that I was going to persue other aspects of healing besides my nursing. I undertook a massage diploma and also a reiki course. I would channel reiki whilst massaging and without fail my clients would fall asleep every time and wake feeling so much better. I enjoyed the complementary side of healing more than I enjoyed nursing. I started to think about opening my own clinic offering holistic complementary healing. I just knew I was born for it.
Then something happened to stop me in my tracks. My illnesses. By February of 2009 I was not able to walk more than ten paces. My dreams were crushed.
Yet I found something out. I may not be able to stand up and deliver massages, but I could still put my hands on people and I could still send distance healing. So why the hell shouldn’t I make use of what I have to help others?
I know that I and others like me have done good things with our gifts. Yet we are mocked and laughed at and disrespected. It’s funny how the Christians forget that they evangelise over the laying on of hands (hypocrisy much?) Surely it shouldn’t be all about making people feel guilty for their spiritual pathway? It should be about what is in our hearts and our ability to make another human being feel better. It should be about wanting to help others and not a sense of making one’s self feel better by mocking others. If one has the gift of being able to heal, then one should be able to do that without the fear of being mocked or belittled. Healing is healing after all. It should be respected and not not mocked. Namaste.