Reblogged on WordPress.com
Reblogged on WordPress.com
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.
My Dear. Religion is rather like a penis. It’s perfectly fine for you to have one and to be proud of it. However, when you whip it out, wave it in my face and try to shove it down my throat, then we have a problem.
I simply adore this quote. It really does speak to me on a deep level. Now I know that it’s humerous and it’s irrelevant but it helps me to remain calm and focused in the face of adversity. Why do I do that? I feel insulted when my spiritual choices are ridiculed and belittled by people who have simply no idea what they are talking about.
I respect everyone’s spiritual/religious choices. You can believe in Buddha, the goddess and the horned god, god or Allah. You can even worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster if you want to. As long as it makes you happy and it doesn’t hurt or upset anyone else, it is fine by me.
However. When I extend a courtesy to you, I would like to think that same courtesy to me. You don’t have the right to be disrespectful to another person over their religious/spiritual beliefs. Just because someone doesn’t have the same set of beliefs as you, does not mean that you can mock their beliefs. If I don’t know anything about the religion of a friend of mine then I will make an effort to discover what I can about that religion so that I can discuss things and know what I am talking about. I think it is disrespectful and it only implies ignorance if one attempts to argue a topic when one has no knowledge of it.
Yet members of certain religions or a certain religion in particular think that they have the right to denounce you and tell the world that you are going to hell because you do not follow the same religion as them. They rudely announce that they will pray for you soul despite you telling them that your soul is just fine and needs no help from them. They will pressurise you to follow their religion and tell you how you should live.
Can people not learn that ignorance is one of the prime causes of conflict? Both verbal and physical? Surely people can see that having a little more knowledge and tolerance of the spiritual pathway of others can promote a greater sense of understanding? We have to be more open and tolerant. We have to make the effort to learn to know more about other religions. We have to be tolerant. Hate begets hate
OK. I am the queen of weird assed dreams. It is now official. I had what I thought was the weirdest dream ever a few weeks ago. I was in Tesco getting my shopping (very weird, I always shop online) and there was a potato serving on the till. I was the only one who thought this was weird. All the other shoppers thought it was totally normal!!! How is that normal? Go figure!!! *shrug*
Last night’s offering was even weirder. All the dogs and cats were walking around on their hind legs and the humans were on all fours as the pets!
I told you. Weird assed dreams!