The gentleman with history of melanoma told me, that on the day he played football with his twelve-year-old son, that when he removed his shirt, his very impressed son said, “Whoa! Dad! You’re ripped!” Translation: he looked great.
I had one lady who was forty-two years old tell me that she had never looked as good as she did recovering from a car accident! Her actual words were, “I didn’t look this good when I was fifteen!”
I won’t go into detail about how this affected the rest of their lives. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this had a dramatic alteration on their self-esteem, an essential personal shift.
When you are given a terminal health diagnosis, as I myself have had, a period of grief for the life you had closely follows. Whether it is “You have two weeks to live” or “You’ll never walk again”, you are forced to accept what feels like an unacceptable permanent change, one that alters everything within you. Your perspective of yourself and the life you have is dramatically changed. Your family, your friends, all the decisions you have made that have gotten you to that place; all this changes in view of this new perspective. And though it seems like the end, bizarrely, it’s a great starting point.
Things are not always what they seem.
It is no coincidence that just prior to a person finding their essential gift, or realizing their goals, or achieving their very best, it is often the case that they have recently undergone a major, personal, traumatic event in their life. Some of us need that slap in the face in order to see more clearly, I guess. Take me, for example. That altered perspective changes everything. Some of us need that huge amount of pressure behind us, to get us over the line.
Take the simple element of carbon. Put under enough pressure, it becomes a diamond.
And so, here I am, telling you that physical healing is within your grasp. And the physical healing is often the very least of it.
The human body is astonishing in its power to heal itself. Put in the right environment, the possibilities are beyond our understanding of what the body can do to repair itself. Beyond our understanding, however, does not mean it isn’t occurring.
My own clients have and continue to experience healings that appear incredible and sometimes impossible. I have seen an eighty-six-year-old woman grow more than two inches as her scoliosis-affected spine straightened out in a single session. I’ve seen a disabled child speak and say “Mum” for the very first time. A stroke victim once again is able to move his arm. A man with a broken foot walks out unaided by crutches. People walk in with cancerous tumours and leave without them. A woman suffering from drug-induced depression is able to smile and function again, never again knowing the panic attacks that had hospitalized her on a weekly basis.
This isn’t an occasional occurrence, either; it is happening every day. Can you even imagine what it’s like to wake up each morning, knowing that you will be present for such a moment? For such a healing! I tell you, you are going to love this.
There is medical evidence of these individuals’ ailments prior to walking into the room. And there is medical evidence of the incredible changes that occurred for these individuals after they had walked out of the room. What I cannot offer you is the medical, or even much scientific evidence of what occurred for each of these people whilst in the session itself. Rest assured, there is research underway, and as soon as we know, we’ll let you know!
Regardless, the healings occur.
What each client experiences however, during their sessions, for this I have thousands and thousands of pages of documentation, as each experience has been as unique as the individual themselves. And those same individuals were keen for you to hear about it. Throughout this book, you will be witness to many client sessions, as I was, so that you may do what I did: learn. Some of the names of the clients are changed, but, by request, most aren’t. To each of those clients, so generous in sharing their experiences, I say thank you.
Welcome to a new perspective on healing. My gift to you is to allow you this alternate perspective by delving into my own experience. After all, this book is really about you…and this extraordinary and truly beautiful gift is available to us all.
I can’t wait to see what you do with it!
The World Doesn’t Revolve Around You, You Know!
“If you’re going through Hell, keep going.” –Winston Churchill
I don’t remember a lot of the details about my grandfather. I don’t recall a lot of the incidental day-to-day stuff. But I do clearly remember, knowing him so very well, as I have felt it all my life. I was his eleventh grandchild and six years old when he died.
Shortly before his death I was sitting on his lap, amid the colourful multidirectional banter of an extended family gathering. I was leaning back onto his chest chatting to him, just so he would answer me and I could feel that great rumble of a voice rolling out of that great mountain of a man. My absolute love and admiration for Popa was full and intense, and even at the age of six I would consciously allow it to envelop me in its ecstasy.
Nearly all of my relatives were somewhat dumbfounded by me, and as such I was the proverbial “black sheep” and always a “naughty little girl.” But I was a pretty girl with blonde curls and blue eyes, so they loved showing me off—provided I didn’t speak or do anything “weird.” I was always kept under close restraint, particularly in public, but not by my Popa; he just loved me.
At a gathering only a few years ago, many years after the event, my older cousin recounted to me the conversation I had with Popa that afternoon, upon his lap. He recalled the tears running down Popa’s cheeks when I answered.
Popa rumbled, “Lissy, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
And I said, “Wise.”
I remember saying it. I remember Pop’s silence, for it made me turn to look at him and bask in his gentle smile. My cousin tells me it was a rare day when he wasn’t astonished by me, but on this day I actually silenced the entire family. I can still see the dismayed heads shaking.
Weeks later, I was at school, playing in the playground at recess, when for no reason I knew at all I burst into tears. When the teacher came over and asked, “What is it, Melissa?” I replied, “My Popa just died.” She stared at me hard for a moment, then rolled her exasperated eyes and walked away.
I sat down on a bench, desolate and alone beneath the stark branches of a winter tree. My friends were playing around me but knew not to come to me. I remember feeling within myself that somehow, I had made the wrong choice. When my parents picked me up from school that afternoon they told me that Popa had died, indeed at 10:47am, while I was at recess. I said, “I know.” Of course, I was punished for being unfeeling and ill-mannered.
My childhood was not easy. And I was not an easy child. I’m certainly not proud of that fact, but I do forgive myself now that I am a little wiser.
The truth is, I didn’t really want to talk about myself in his book. It was a friend working in healing who convinced me. He said, “Melissa, who better to help someone that ails than someone who has been to hell and back, and then gone back a few times just to see if the climate has changed?”
As a child, the confusion was very real. I just could not comprehend the need or the rush of people to conform. Actually, I still don’t. Norman Vincent Peale seems to understand and put it concisely: “Conformity is one of the most fundamental dishonesties of all. When we reject