Why Sharing Compassion Helps All

The show of compassion is healing to us.

That is, to display and share compassion with another who is in need, is also a form of self-love.

Studies show that 'meaningful interaction' with patients reduces burnout in the physician, nurse, and hospital staff.  There is less depression in the caregiver when genuine empathy is felt for their patient.

How can this phenomenon be?

Everyone around us, metaphysically in ways we cannot explain, is in some way a mirror to us.

In this photo, the healthy one shows compassion for the one who is sick. Healing is encouraged.  This is a form of love primarily from the healthy one to the sick.

It is furthermore a love from the healthy one to ALL who are sick.

Ultimately, it is a recognition in the soul of the healthy one, of the parts in themselves which have experienced illness, and a blessing to themselves too.

In this photograph, the tourist is helping the beggar. Both are women.

The one who has the abundance, and is filled with youth, honors the downtrodden woman in the country of travel.

In this simple act of kindness, she accepts there is poverty in the world, and does something to ease it.

She is loving the mirror which reflect to her, on some level, the depth of poverty which has been present in her own soul for some time.

In giving alms she not only loves her neighbor, she loves herself.

Love IS the solution for everything!

Let me share an example for you.  Yesterday I was at the bedside of my niece, who is improving slowly.

Sometimes she gets in the way of her own care with her anxiety over medical procedures.

It is hard to witness these outbursts of terror and fear shown by this young woman.  She needs xanax to cope with it.  She can't get a procedure, even a non-invasive one, without some form of drug.

I didn't judge. Not beyond the 'this is going to make recovery more difficult. I wonder what medical 'chess move' is available for them to do next?' curiosity because of my line of work.

Then it hit me.

I was a screamer who used to run naked out of the pediatrician's office who they would have to chase down the street to get me back.

I was legendary for my fainting with my blood draws.  (our whole family is what they call 'vasovagal').

I had forgotten.

Then I shared with my niece and brother-in-law a story.  How when I was little, I thought my blood was in my skin the same way a water balloon contains water. One needle stick and all my blood was gonna squirt out just like a water balloon.

I got phobic.  I was scared of the shots. And even after the shot I was scared for the leak.

For this I wouldn't take off the band aid. After a while, I wouldn't take off my panties, just to make sure if the band aid fell off my blood would stay in.

I did this even in the bath.

One day my father, who had reached his limit with the behavior and was totally exasperated, pulled me out of the tub, took my underwear off, ripped off my band aid, and I screamed with the agony of death which I KNEW would be quick.  How could my own father wish to kill me?!

I kept screaming. I kept screaming and crying and much to my surprise, I was not dead!

That was the lesson my father brutally showed me.

My father, bless his soul, was not so accepting of the irrational and fearful parts of himself.

He wanted to put a stop to it, my fear, with 'tough love'--the fastest and most blunt way possible.

There could have been countless ways to stop this fear.

Later on, in my youth, father chose to work with me to 'face my fears'.  He put in the gentle talks, the listening, and the encouragement from his heart to give me the coping skills to make it through life.  It was an ongoing thing my whole childhood.

As an adult, I have been given the diagnosis of anxiety disorder.  Then it turned out I had post traumatic distress disorder from a violent attack I experienced as a child (not from my dad with the band aid or my dad in any way) which had a buried memory which came up at age twenty-six.

That one was a long journey, and a different story.

My niece enjoyed hearing of my fears, and how I overcame them. Her father shared his fear of the 'big black bees'--we have carpenter bees where I grew up.  He was able to overcome it too. He said he shot one with a bee bee gun, and after that, he felt sorry for it, and wasn't able to hate the bees any more.

I think I had the first injury from one of my bracelets.

On May 7 I was playing catch with my son. The knuckle ball took a bad bounce out of my mitt, and next thing I knew, on the inside of my wrist there was blood everywhere.

It was the funniest thing.  It never healed. And it hurt REALLY bad whenever I touched it.

It just got red like a foreign body reaction--like how some people react to suture. And the scab never came off.

The night before last, I put arnica gel on it. For the first time it wasn't painful.

Last night, I wanted to rip the scab off--to see if there was infection and pus underneath. The wound looked kind of like a pimple.

I had to pull very hard.

It was the hardest scab I've ever felt.

It was like a rock!  Like glass!

When I threw it in the trash can, it made a metallic sound on the metal can.

I realized what my eyes had seen medically was right. It WAS a foreign body reaction!  It WAS like glass--that was embedded in my flesh! A sliver of the stone had gone under my skin and my body had spit it out as far as it could. That's why it took time, and why it looked like a scab.

I had to yank it off for me to heal.

Now when I touch it there is no pain whatsoever.

And I didn't realize it, but a large vein is next to the sharp sliver. I could have been seriously injured by the glass at any time, but my skin protected my by building a thick wall of inflammation around it so it wouldn't move!

How amazing is the wisdom of the body!

Like many at this time, my niece is at a place where here fears are like the sharp sliver that is ready to come out.   If she wishes to heal them, now is the time, through counseling. 

Be mindful of the emotional pain you have suffered. Acknowledge it as it comes up. Face it squarely. Ask for your angels, guides and deceased loved ones to help you find your way through your lesson.

And LOVE.

Both for you, and for anyone who is a mirror to you. And after all, everyone is!

We are One human family, where everyone is our auntie, uncle, or cousin <3





Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,

Reiki Doc

A Far Away Dream, A Far Away Place, A Far Away Hour

Two months ago I had spent the day with my boy and my mother. There was a family-get together at a local restaurant later that night. Mom wanted some time to get ready and my niece and nephew had to study, so we couldn't stay with mom or go over to my sister's house.

Mom lives about an hour away from our home. It wasn't worth it to drive home only to drive all the way back.

So we had some time to kill.

My boy wanted to go to a park. My home town where I grew up has lots of beautiful parks. So I took him to the one that was closest to us.

Quickly we found a playground. There were children playing on it but there were two swings open.

I enjoy riding the swings. I always have. And when I go to the playground with my boy, I often swing right next to him just to keep him company.

This swing was different.

It was the same kind I used to ride while I was a child. It had the same squeak of the metal. It had the same smell of the park. Although the actual park I went to when I was little is across town (my parents moved when I was fourteen), I was instantly transported back in time to that memory.

I could feel the contentment of being an only child, with my beautiful mother in her fashionable outfit and hair, pushing me on the swings for as long as I would like. I could feel the sun, smell the grass, and hear the music that was playing on the radio at the picnic table not too far away.

And I was content.

My being a swing set philosopher goes way back.

I used to start every morning riding the swing in my back yard. Mother would help me get dressed for school, I don't remember if I even ate breakfast, and OUT I would go into the fresh morning of our back yard. Many times there would be dew on everything, even the seat, and I would have to wipe it carefully so as not to stain my clothes.

I sang 'Jerimiah Was A Bullfrog' at the top of my lungs, riding that swing, thanking God for the opportunity to be alive.

And I thought about my life, and what I wanted to do with it. And my family.

I thought about how chaotic the relationship between my mother and my younger sister had been--the sister would not poop and the mother screaming with frustration is only one example---and the contrast with the fresh morning air and solitude was highly welcome to my soul.

What IS the memory?

How is it that it transports us back in time at the whiff of a scent we once knew? Or seeing a reminder --for example, when going through her old things, my mother asked if I would like the clock that was on the wall while I was growing up. It was a handsome clock, and looked like an antique watch and was made of wood. So much horror overcame me while I looked at that watch--all the memories of mother yelling and screaming, of me standing in the living room with her brushing my hair with a plastic brush. BAM (brush contacts head at top), pull (brush comes down against knots in hair), OUCH! (hard bristles scratch my entire ear).  The one time I flinched and showed pain at the brushing of my ears, not even asking her to stop, my mother started screaming in chemical-fueled rage and threw the brush across the room as hard as she could at the front door.

I had to remind myself that I am a grownup now, and can protect myself against her anger, and the memory of it.

I declined her offer, politely, and thanked God for all the personal growth so I could love her as she is, temper and all, AND be emotionally safe and protected at the same time.

If memory has the power to transport us instantly in place and time, if this just a random occurrence that only goes backward in time?

Or does the CONSCIOUSNESS retain this ability to move anywhere, anytime, in an instant, not just in meditation, but in our hearts, once our natural abilities are not longer blocked by 3D, duality, and The Veil?

In mediumship, the Consciousness is able to do some pretty amazing things.

So is Reiki Healing--I once sent a healing to a friend who was in trouble in Hawaii, which is five hours away. She felt the calm hit her instantly, the minute I sent it.

With HSZHN, we who are Reiki trained CAN and DO send Reiki across distance and time.

Is it possible that memory, Reiki Healing, and mediumship are quantum energetic experiences that do not ''follow' the restrictions of 3D, Duality, and The Veil?

And what is going to happen when we all arrive at once, as humanity, into the Higher Realms?

It's worth thinking about it, isn't it?

I love you all so very much.

I look forward to Awakening together in the New Energies of New Gaia.

Not A Bad Thing by Justin Timberlake

http://youtu.be/0SMqtLI1d1k

OMG this song has been going over and over in my head the whole time I was writing this! I might as well share...

Aloha and Mahalos,

Namaste,

Peace,

Reiki Doc

On Healing PTSD: Leather and Lace

Yesterday I experienced profound, deep healing for my PTSD.

I share because know I am not alone in this diagnosis. At least one in three women has suffered like myself, and at least one in  ten men. And what happened to me was only one kind of trauma that can produce the PTSD psychological response in a human heart.

PTSD is a protective mechanism that is produced by the subconscious to protect an individual from overwhelming, life-threatening harm.

In a way, PTSD is 'good', in that it promotes survival. But like any 'defense', it carried a price, and it is a different form of suffering. If you have it, you and those around you need to know it has 'layers like an onion', and once you break through one level, do not be surprised if other 'layers' in turn follow. The subconscious only permits that to 'come through' which is possible for you to 'process' and 'recover from'.

Instead of 'layers', when I think of this response in myself, the image of a cat trying to 'cough up a fur ball' comes to mind.

Let me share with you my latest one. There was a twelve-hour delay for this 'fur ball' to 'come up' and an entire day to be able to write about it. So friends and family, KEEP AT IT with your kindness and support. This is NOT instant mashed potatoes. This is more like making them from scratch, okay? Have patience.

Here is my story:

My 'person' that I told does not speak. I went to where he works the night before last. My soul 'connected' to him in this healing process. You would be surprised because you would think it would pick someone very close to you, like a close friend or coworker who you share lots of experiences and trust. But this happens on a 'soul level', and even though in ordinary appearances the longest conversation we have ever had was perhaps ten minutes, for my healing, 'it works'.

He gave me a hug, and then about ten seconds after, he touched my arm between the elbow and the shoulder.

Why is he poking my arm? I thought. I forgot I had written this recommendation of using touch to heal someone with PTSD, and I NEVER thought he might have read it. I brushed the thought away.

When it was time to go, we hugged 'goodbye'. As an afterthought, he reached out and touched my arm the same way.

The brain of a PTSD person is 'different': it has a thick emotional 'filter of protection' that is run by the subconscious. Although the signal 'I care and want you to heal' was GIVEN at eight-thirty p.m., it didn't register until seven-thirty a.m. the following day that 'yes, this person is sincere and wants me to feel better.'

This 'emotional processing delay' is something like gravity--it just IS and as frustrating it is for everyone involved with PTSD, it is important to let go of expectation that is based upon NORMAL human experience in the healing of trauma from something that is OUTSIDE THE RANGE OF NORMAL human experience.

The healing came on a soul level in the morning.

It went in steps, like this, with his soul 'talking' to mine:

1. I forgive you for everything that has happened to you, and your reaction to it. It wasn't your fault. You have only tried to heal. It is OKAY with me. I care.
2. I accept your hatred of men, and it is OKAY because I love you anyway. Not all of us are like THOSE that hurt you. You have your son, and he is one of the good ones. Now you also have me.
3. I acknowledge your anger, both at yourself for not being able to stop what happened, and at them for what they did to you. You don't have to be angry any more. When you are ready, it can be let go.
4. (Holds my hand and smiles) You are going to be free to release your sorrow and experience Happiness and Joy! 
5. I want to you think of this: points across his forehead and I see in big font UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. Whenever you think of my face I want you to think of this word written on it. Then he makes me a tee shirt with his face and the word UNCONDITIONAL above it and LOVE below it in HUGE letters.
6. I want you to have the courage to Let Go and allow me to be near you in this healing process. My heart knows what to do. Just like you trust me to make a meal for you in the kitchen. I won't hurt you. I know what to do here like I know what to do to nourish you. Will you trust me enough to let me be there for you like this Here and Now? (there is no sense of time--just a presence)
7. If you let me, I will use all of my Spiritual intelligence and education on your behalf to help you heal.
8. Know there are going to be 'Ups and Downs' in this healing process. It cycles between More Healing and Doesn't Look Like Anything Is Going On At All. This is to be expected. I will be with you through this process No Matter What.
9. This connection between us will always honor that which is Holy--God--The Divine. And for YOU, I 'raise it' to include the energy of The Goddess! (this was the first one that stopped my tears of HUGE RELIEFand made me smile a genuine smile!!!)  My symptoms of pain and suffering had ended because of his presence about a month ago, but this next step, from Unhealed With No Symptoms to Healing is what is going on. It is a new level.
10. The goal is for you to experience Peace. Isn't that what you wanted from me in the first place when we first met? I am only going to deliver it...(he smiles softly and makes me laugh)

Later through the day, there were little 'messages' of one or two words each, designed to help me get used to the idea that his spirit is actively helping, reaching out through my 'fog of suffering' that has been 'normal' for me ever since I was four. I wrote all of them down. Here is one of them--sometimes he speaks in music to help me learn:

This song doesn't finish. We are still singing it. The all important healing between the divine masculine (leather) and divine feminine (lace) is still flowing.

Is he an angel? I don't know! Is he even aware that his higher self does this? Is it my own guides making me 'believe' it is him in this healing?

I don't even care.

I feel better.  For the first time I have in as long as I can remember. There is a brand new connection that is healing between two hearts.

I am not going to stomp on it! I am not going to inspect it! How do I know it is not from Satan?

I JUST KNOW! My Spirit knows what is RIGHT for me at this time! It has gotten me through hell on earth and I trust in it to get me through this HEALING Here and Now!

When everyone is in 5D or higher, this is how we are ALL going to learn and grow: by trusting our Source and our connection to is as a 'God of our own understanding'.

I am so thankful that although my 'Leather' is a soul who only wears 'pleather' because there is less cruelty, is taking the time and effort to make a difference in the heart of someone who has had all but four years of their life in the wreckage of cruelty that is beyond comprehension. I have known and suffered from cruelty for longer than I have been able to read and write! 

That's why I think he is the best. And yes, I trust in him for more than to make me something to eat.

It is my sincerest hope, that in my sharing with you the adventure of this healing process, both as a survivor and as a physician and energy healer, that Light will shine bright on you in your suffering too.

It is never to late for one to Heal. <3

Aloha and Mahalo,
Namaste,

Reiki Doc

P.S. As chance would have it, my second patient was the same body type and size as my friend. This one spoke no english--only something asian. As the circulating nurse spoke with him and translated for me, I sat in a chair on the patient's left hand side of the bed. The side rail was up, and I folded my arms and rested my head, watching the interaction intently as they spoke. It was BEAUTIFUL, seeing two people of the same culture interact in the healing connection! I don't know why, but since it was his first operation, even though he was old enough to be a grandpa, I explained every little detail of what I would do and what he could expect in the perioperative experience--nausea, constipation, not being able to pee (big prostates sometimes do that after surgery). I took three times longer than usual to explain everything.

Guess what?

The surgeon said in the middle of the case, 'This patient is highly unusual. He has no family. None. Not one single person. Isn't that sad?'

Intuition and Energy Healing is incredible! The 'antennae' are working just fine!

How To Heal Someone With PTSD

Look at the hand of the child as it reaches for the hand of the mother in this photo. Can you feel the trust and love of the mother-child relationship? The child has every right to believe that it is going to be well-taken care of, and given what it needs to grow.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD, happens when this basic right to 'be' is violated tragically.

The victim feels powerless, and experiences threat to their very existence at the hands of others or or natural disaster.

The key in psychological terms is the victim has survived something 'outside the range of normal human experience'.

In doing so, the brain 'switches' to a different kind of memory recording system. Like the 'black box' in an airplane, the 'black box' in the brain are the memories that are encoded in the presence of high levels of norepinephrine (a powerful neurotransmitter and pressor like adrenaline). These are the memories which might get 'buried' because the subconscious is unable to cope with them (it would overwhelm the individual--the subconscious goes into 'protective mode'), or may remain conscious to some extent.
I will talk more about the aftermath of these memories later, but for now, let us explore the types of violent experiences that encode the memories of PTSD:

• Rape
• War
• Torture
• Assault
• Ritual Abuse
• Large-scale natural disaster
• Witnessing the above in another person

What does it feel like when you go through one of these experiences? I know, I speak first-hand as a survivor. Basically you think you are going to die and you leave your body. In psychology terms instead of 'energetic ones' the term is 'you disassociate'.  You feel like an outsider looking in to the attack.

In the immediate aftermath, you just think 'it's over and I am going to be okay'. For a majority of the people, this is true. But for some, like me, sooner or later the symptoms come up.

Here are some of my symptoms I had before I remembered:

• Hypervigilance
• Nightmares
• Mood swings
• poor close interpersonal relationships
• avoidance behavior (for example, I would take well-travelled paths in college so 'I wouldn't be another statistic')
• psychic awakening (in 'leaving the body' you 'discover' the higher 'registers' of your soul/energy body--the ones that are psychic, and they stay 'open'. You 'discover them' by trying to 'hide' from the brutal attack, as a soul.)

I had those symptoms, which were vague, for twenty-two years before I 'remembered'. Then I had:

• Flashbacks--re-experiencing bits and pieces of the trauma like it was real (the norepinephrine memory is 'clearer' and does this to people as it heals. Bits and pieces. First the sounds, then the vision, then the feelings)
• Trouble sleeping, waking up screaming from nightmares 'reliving' the event
• Not wanting to eat, tearfulness and other signs of depression
• Feeling 'not in your body'
• Feeling 'dirty'
• Wanting to be held. (this one is hard because a loved one can't reassure you in one hug. You need MANY, and my first husband left our marriage over this.)
• Talk, talk, talk your story with anyone who will listen. Sometimes even those who find it TMI

In time, the person regains ability to function. And the memories are triggered less and less, but still are only 'under the surface' and "thirty seconds away from full fetal position on the floor covering the eyes and ears rocking and crying and staying 'make it stop!' 'make it stop!' "

Once a soul is shattered, as loved ones how do we help 'put it back in'?

Listen.

That's all you have to do is listen with your heart, and if you can, touch the patient/victim to let them know you care.

Repeat until patient feels better. And also offer tea. Lots of it!!

Dr. Peter Levine is an expert in this field. I took a class on CD by him, and it uses a technique called 'somatic experiencing'. Your body is STRONG and it is still HERE even though you thought you would die, basically. He teaches you to use 'tapping' to reassure yourself that 'all is well'. It triggers the natural healing mechanism in the body and soul. 

What I recommend is that when a victim is sharing with you, they are 'overwhelmed' by negative sensory input, or memories of it that are slowly processing at the rate the subconscious deems it 'safe'. 

Your hands, particularly Reiki hands, have the power to address this by adding POSITIVE physical contact--hold the hand, and rub the arm, not too light, not too heavy. Or touch gently between the elbow and the shoulder as the victim confides in you what is happening, how they feel, what they want you to know.

When it comes right down to it, in children who are fresh from a trauma, they need to 'tell their story', often with art drawings or role play through dolls more than words. Many times they have to tell their loved ones, in their own words, what happened, how it makes them feel, and how they never want to talk about it again. (There is a special field in this in psychology for survivors who are very young.)

It is a question in adults of finding the right 'loved one to tell'. Mamie Van Doren, the Miss America who spoke up about her incest she experienced growing up, found healing in telling her boyfriend. She said, 'The one person you think you should never tell, is the one you need to tell' (to heal). I found that one person, for me, and told them, even though I think they didn't want to know. Although I didn't get the warm loving arms I had hoped to get when I came to this important step, on a soul level I healed, and my symptoms after over many, many years of suffering, trouble me no more. My person doesn't speak--he has a vow of silence, and I marvel at how smart my subconscious is to 'find someone that wouldn't tell' to share the 'secret' with. My person is gentle and loving and spiritual, not too into emotions, but supportive enough to let me know he cares.  I healed by writing him many emails. He didn't even respond to most. But knowing he was 'there' was enough for my soul to finish the healing process on its own. The drive to be whole is one of the most powerful energies in the Universe...

In these times of change across Gaia, is it important for healers to recognize the need for 'victims' to 'reconnect' with Love and Light and beautiful healing Goddess Energy. 

People in Egypt and elsewhere who are bringing about change for a fair and positive society, might get PTSD after the fact.

Imagine how all those 'asleep' are going to feel when they discover the truth about the Illuminati and government's intentions? Total shock and denial at first, but then some major grappling!

I can see hundreds of thousands of people dazed and in shock after the Flash of The Event, going to the ATM and finding that it does not work, and trying to use a credit card that is basically useless. Even though this is only for about two weeks for a bank re-set, you can imagine the chaos that will follow.

Healers, you are not alone in this! There are Angels, Guides, Deceased Love Ones, Ascended Masters, the Inner Earth Family, and the Galactic Family who have a 'higher perspective' to assist. Ask for guidance and help in dealing with whoever is before you in need of your care. There will also be broadcast on the media, by the Light workers, what is going on, what to expect, and what needs to be known to the general public. Still, there is a great need for YOU. Keep these guidelines in mind:

• Who is the right one? The one who is with you.
• What is the right way to act? What your heart is saying to do Now.
• How will I know it is enough? Anything you do is better than not doing anything for those that suffer.

I want you to keep this one in your back pocket, okay? Between the Event and the healing chambers, a lot of people are going to need your help! Any modality you are trained in, in this lifetime or others before (if you are one of those 'born healers' this means YOU <3 ), you will be guided to step in and assist others.

Aloha and Mahalos,

Namaste,

Reiki Doc

Pink Bubblegum Ice Cream

Tonight was the school play. As a Reiki Master and Intuitive, I FELT all the marvelous energy of those performing kids, in addition to watching and enjoying the play itself.

I took my son out to 31 Flavors after to celebrate.

When I looked at the flavors available, I was surprised that my favorite, burgundy cherry wasn't there.

And then it happened. It  is the term I have used to describe all my life when my PTSD kicks in. I should have expected it to happen. Yesterday after dealing with mom, her doctor at the nursing home, negotiating the transfer to ER, explaining to my sisters that this was serious and mom needed an ambulance, going there, and talking with her doctors, then the long, late drive home and being even more behind in my own life...I felt 'NUMB'.

A PTSD flare typically happens when I am overwhelmed emotionally, or when something happens to 'remind me' of the event. (If you want to know what happened, look it up in the search box on this blog. I don't want to go over that again today.) My emotions can't process it in 'real time' like a normal person. It 'floats around' for days, and like a cat coughing up a fur ball--believe me, it feels just as uncomfortable--my subconscious 'spits it up' for my conscious mind to digest.

What was it today?

Well, let's start with the ice cream. Pink bubblegum is very bright pink. It also happens to be the flavor my sister always got, but not me. I had to be 'more sensible' due to my being 'the oldest'. I never got a clown ice cream that cost more. But my sister, who was trained 'to keep asking until she gets what she wants' always did. There was extreme favoritism in my family. It is still there now. Out of three girls, I am like, first born but number three when it comes to being close to mother's heart.

My little 'me' inside wanted the pretty pink ice cream.

I knew what to do. I got it. Even though I am going raw vegan, and I KNOW the ice cream is a bunch of GMO bovine growth hormone and crap, SPIRIT TRUMPS ALL when SPIRIT needs healing.

When my son got his tonsils out at four, when he came home, he was crying inconsolably. I asked him if he was in pain, and fortunately he wasn't. But he said, 'I want my tonsils BACK!'

When what happened to me at four, I felt 'dirty' and 'shame'. Like his tonsils, my 'innocence' was ripped out of my little girl's heart.

The memory buried until I was twenty-six. When it came back, I felt so dirty it was painful. I found a small ballerina bear, about six inches tall, with a tutu at a local store. I named her my name, and that was my innocence. I carried her with me everywhere, in a purse so it wouldn't show, but on my desk at work where I could see it. My massage therapist, Stacey, was an angel. She would talk to 'me' with lovingkindness, and sit 'me' up on a shelf while she worked on my body. Sometimes more memory that was trapped in my muscles would come out. Stacey, a survivor herself, taught me how to live again.

Once when I forgot 'me' at work, I made my husband drive us half hour to my work on a Saturday to get 'me' back again. This was in the first three months after the memory, and healing was very hard.

Sometimes, I think I have not grown all that much. Energetically, 'me' is 'healed', but somehow, in my aura, there is only one thing that makes me 'feel better' in my 'owie'--the scar or hole leaking energy from where my innocence was. It is the High Vibration Aromatherapy Oils I wear around my neck. I never take them off because they make me feel better. It's been most of my life with this wound. I function beautifully, no one would ever see my scar, but I really don't enjoy it. I want to be whole. And if it is the necklaces of aromatherapy that is working for me right now, so be it. I don't even HAVE my ballerina bear any more, nor do I recall where it ended up. I outgrew it.

But on deeper inspection, I would never trade a day without my PTSD. There are some benefits that are hidden. There are three--so those of you who are survivors can stand tall when I make this list:

1. The trauma causes your consciousness to 'jump' into the higher 'registers' for 'safety' in a near-death situation. I literally thought 'this is what it feels like to die'. Guess what happens when you survive? You get to be psychic. Those 'connections' are wide open on a soul level.
2. I am a WAY better anesthesiologist for having felt that trauma. I can recognize and treat faster and more effectively because of having experienced that myself. Surgery brings out a lot of PTSD in people, and is a source of it for others. I try to make the risk of it as low as possible in my patients.
3. As a result of having to function with a subconscious that 'makes itself known', I know myself on a deeper level  than would have been possible if it hadn't happened. The subconscious is not scary, but it has its own 'way' and as a matter of life I have come to know it. Some people do not even know their CONSCIOUS in the first place. But for me, I am comfortable in my own skin, with my conscious and subconscious too. I simply accept and love all of me. And I know my innocence is where it always has been, because nobody can every take away a part of your soul that is your birth right.

Remember to always be loving to yourself. To be as gentle and kind to yourself as you are to others. You are important. And you ARE a survivor, just for being here on earth. And if you have PTSD, I love you very very much, and I care about your heart. Remember that the crystal shines more brightly when the light hits one that has the cracks inside. It makes you 'sparkly', on a soul level. Sparkly just like me. 

Aloha and Mahalo for reading this. I appreciate it very much. I wanted to share from my own experience what PTSD is like 'on the inside' so everyone will know it is not the end. Sometimes you need to lean on your friends sometimes. Mine have to screen my movies for me. There are some scenes I can't watch, but otherwise I do okay.

I haven't had a flare up from it since, wow, before I became a mom. I guess that means I am doing pretty well. <3

Namaste,

Reiki Doc

P.S. Where is the Reiki? Well, I did a magnificent job in Reiki Class when I worked on the Shadow Self meditation. That one really helped me heal a lot. Otherwise, just the daily practice, for years, has made me more aware in general, and able to tune in and stay calm when stuff like this hits.

My Uncle, the Starseed Scout

My mother has a brother who is five and a half years younger than her. My grandmother spent a lot of time watching me, and he would play with me and make me laugh when he came home from school. We were tight, very close, all through my growing up.

When he got drafted, I was two and a half. I could not understand where he was, or why. They told me he was in the war. When  I asked when he was coming home, my mother and grandmother would not answer me, and would cry but try to hide the tears.

The home was empty without him. One day he came home in uniform. They told me not to touch him or I might mess up his clothes. I had to wait. He was on leave but I did not understand he would have to go back. He was a gunner on a Huey in Nam. When he came home for good, I ran to him and never let him go. I was about four and a half, and it was just like you see on T.V., my running to his arms with tears of joy!

My childhood was spent visiting my grandparents and hanging out with my uncle. He was changed. Quiet. Spent lots of time watching World at War and shows like that on T.V. I didn't understand the footage of death was real. War was beyond my comprehension. But out of love for my uncle, I stayed by his side and spent time with him.

One of the facts about the war in Vietnam was it was humid. Very moist and damp. What got my uncle through the war was fantasizing about someplace dry, the desert. One day, he got excited about an offer he had made to buy some land in the desert. He bought it from some man named Dee. I saw the papers with my uncle's name on it. He would own the land but have to pay the taxes on it every year. Dad went with him to check it out. I couldn't wait to go. When uncle bought a trailer, and put it in grandma's front yard, I looked in every drawer and marveled how the table could make into a bed!

Eventually the trailer and I made it to the desert. And that is where my heart expanded with love for this wondrous land that made my uncle happy, and that he was more than happy to share with the rest of us.

I learned to shoot, to ride a motorcycle, to hike, what to do around rattlesnakes, how to drive a car with a stick shift, how to cook, and how to build an outhouse. Much of the time was spent trying to avoid the heat, and relaxing with a good book. Sometimes it was cold and blustery, and it was a struggle to keep ourselves warm. Every long weekend and school holiday, we were there.

At night my uncle showed me the stars. He knew the constellations, and even ones with letters and numbers, something like M-36. We looked through telescopes, watched satellites, admired the milky way, and filled with wonder. My favorite constellation of all is the Pleades. Always liked it. Never knew why, but when I looked, I felt like everything was going to be okay. (Often times when I was on call, in my residency, when I would be called out of the call rooms and walking to the hospital, I would look up in the night, find my place, and trust that everything was going to be okay.)

Uncle is a UFO-ologist. He studied and read books and magazines. My parents and he went to a convention that was called Giant Rock. I rode on their shoulders and tried to figure out what was the draw for all those people? Mom said she saw someone who wasn't from this planet there once. She looked and she just knew. And she knew he knew she knew but she couldn't explain it.

Frankly, that part of growing up used to scare me. My sister and I hated it at the fire when the grownups would start to talk about extraterrestrials. I decided I wanted nothing to do with it, I could live my life just fine, because it made no difference on my simple life whether what they said was true or not. I was born to live my life and sought to do the best I could to live it. On this planet!

I got religion. And uncle always teased me over it. We agreed to disagree. He would talk about wanting to see other galaxies, about how eating and going to the bathroom was a total waste of time.  And how he longed to experience space travel. He talked about telepathy. And even once in high school knew of a girl who said she was from Venus. Seriously.

Just this weekend, I went back to the desert with my family. For the first time in over twenty years. Due to my training and my education, I had not been able to go. Around the fire, Uncle talked about Utopia--one where all the bad people would be put away, and where they would eventually not be able to procreate, and ultimately go extinct. He talked about free energy of the Universe and tapping in to it. And about not having to eat, instead being able to live off of light energy. 'Plants live off the energy of the sun' was his point. He is so close to what is going on, and yet so humble not to know it just yet.

Uncle has no faith in what he can't see. He wants to be psychic so badly, but it does not work for him. He is very mental. But his dreams and aspirations prepared me for my life's work, and opened my heart to the possibility that life outside the earth might exist. His credibility held the space for me to come around in my place as a starseed, at my own time, with my own work to accomplish.

Uncle has a terrible case of psoriatic arthritis, with psoriasis. And diabetes too. He asked me how to cure his psoriasis. It troubles him. By the fire, I did Reiki. I checked and balanced his chakras. I knew that the skin and a systemic disease reflects life purpose. I gave Reiki, and got the sign to attune him. I did, without teaching him just yet. I did it to 'open him up' in his psychic development. 'If your hands start burning, or you have psychic dreams or flashes, don't worry, it is okay' I advised. The next day, I sent programmed Reiki healing to him. And as we sat, I talked to him, as he said, 'let's play psychiatrist' and lay on the chaise like a patient. Gently, I probed about his past, about his moving from the old country at eight years old. And I guided him with just a hint, about what his purpose is in his mind, if he has an opinion or anything? I know. And I am honored. But the most gracious and most effective, in my experience, is the gift of letting someone 'figure things out for themselves'.

Sometimes a hint is enough to get a lot of things going. And with a healer who understands that florid psoriasis and diabetes are the body trying to capture the attention of the person, and give a message about life and how to get in balance...sometimes just a nudge is all it will take. We tend to trust others like ourselves when we seek help. He asked for mine, and I was honored.

If it were not for him, and all the time he put into my development, paving the way so many years ago, Reiki Doc as you know it would not exist. He is a stepping stone, a scout, that showed me the way.
I want you to consider the fact that your having interest in energetic healing and Reiki indicate that you are in fact a Starseed on assignment for the greater good. And to take the time, like me, to reflect and give thanks for those that paved the road as spiritual scouts for you. I want you to remember  them as you walk your path, and know that the plan is perfectly in place and proceeding without a hitch for your part in it.

Namaste,

Reiki Doc

All are One

Today on Facebook one of my friends talked about a show she had seen on Dr. Phil. The horror that had happened to a child was triggering her Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). She was reaching out.

I wrote back, in Message, not on the Wall, that I had it, too. And when I see certain violence against women in the movies, I am on the floor in full fetal position, rocking, covering my eyes and saying 'make it stop! make it stop!' I shared that I have to filter what I allow myself to see.

It took ten long years of my life to sort out PTSD, after having a memory of abuse 'come back' when I was twenty-six. What happened to me was when I was four. What I was told in counseling is that memories do not come up until you are psychologically strong enough to process them. I felt like my innocence had been taken away. As a start, I bought a tiny ballerina bear, and named her the same first name as me. It was my innocence. I took her everywhere. Once, when I forgot her at work, my husband and I drove back to get her. I was a four-year old coming out to live my life.

On of my favorite places to go while I was healing was the drug store. When I was little, there was a Rexall down the street from my grandparents. We used to walk there. The pharmacist was named Bill, and he always said a special hello to me. Sometimes I would get candy, or a little toy, like bubbles or jacks. It was a safe place. When I remembered, I was in Berkeley, and I went to the drug store there.

This part of my life I don't like to look back on. I had only one purpose and that was to heal. I read. I journaled. I talked and talked and talked. And through it I found the courage to live my dream, and apply to medical school. 

Unfortunately, my college sweetheart was a victim of similar abuse. He chose not to heal. And the marriage ended there.

I hate to say it, but every man I have ever loved, deeply loved, has been molested. Two husbands, and two boyfriends. That is partly why I do not have the courage to try for a relationship again.

I wanted to share with my friend tonight, as I was falling asleep, but had forgotten earlier, is that childbirth was traumatic for me. I did not want to feel the pain. I felt it before when I was four, that white hot pain like you are going to die. I actually did have that thought, 'this is what it feels like to die' before I passed out. I think I had a cesarean section because my spirit willed it. My obstetrician was insensitive to my psychological distress. The nursing staff and support never mentioned it, although I mentioned quite clearly to everyone involved I had been hurt and I did not want to deliver vaginally. Fortunately, I stalled at four, and ended up in surgery like I wanted all along. Cut my anywhere, I don't care, but not there.

I was embarrassed at the time. And yet, I have encountered PTSD on the labor deck time and time again. Usually it is in the context of someone who had a block that didn't work right in labor or in the operating room. They felt it, the knife. When I have had a perfect block, and they felt touch, since you only numb to pain/hot/cold, they freaked out. I had to induce general anesthetic.  I have seen some like me give birth vaginally. But every time, without saying a word, I treat them with dignity because I know for myself the agony is real.

Once, I shared, 'It happened to me too, honey'. But for someone in the earlier stages of healing, that doesn't help. I remember a counselor said at the beginning, 'it happens to LOTS of girls'. I got angry and said, 'even if it does it should have never happened to me!'.  So I let them in their pain, and give them lots of attention, caring, and of course, Reiki. Sometimes the bewilderment of my patient is so severe, the then/now PTSD flashback situation, I have to try not to get 'sucked in' to the emotional maelstrom. Even then, I know my Reiki offers something that many people cannot. It helps. But from an energetic standpoint, and perhaps later in time if not right away.

Today, though, my spirituality helped me in a big way. The patient had a delay, you talk to them, and they think a LONG time, and you think perhaps they didn't understand or didn't hear you, and then they answer back. One word. Telegraphic. But right. There was something in the eyes that was really creepy.

Turns out it was a paranoid schizophrenic on tons of medication. And the recovery room nurse knew the patient, and said 'they take forever to wake up'. I asked if the patient was paranoid enough to hurt any of us, and the nurse said 'no'.

In the O.R., I kept this patient out. It was a MAC for a GI procedure. But at the end, something told me, 'give Reiki'. I hooked in as the case was over (energetically). This one was almost pure evil, so low a vibration it took my breath away. I grounded the patient, and asked for direct angelic assistance. There was a pressure on my chest, a slowness, and a discomfort I had not experienced. I did Reiki, gave the transition symbol, Karuna Reiki (TM), and Deeksha. All in the time between when the probe was out, and the nurse finished her charting so we could leave the room. About four minutes. 

In recovery room, the RN said, 'I don't know WHAT you gave him but this is the best wakeup I have ever seen on this guy!' I smiled and said, 'I used the Magic of Disney' and 'I used to work there in college. I am a graduate of Disney University'. I was just messing with him. I distracted him with tales of how to point with the hand open, and how I only wear one ring on each hand from the policy. And how they recently allowed male facial hair that is well-groomed.

He called me on it. He knew I was 'up to something'. But I wasn't talking. Not in the GI lab in front of everybody. But I am talking tonight. Only to you.

Somebody told me once that PTSD leaves you permanently damaged. You can function, but it never goes away.

The fact is that stimuli outside the range of normal human experience 'war, rape, torture, etc' are recorded with a different neurotransmitter in a different way in the brain. It has norepinephrine and it burns the event right in. That's why the flashbacks are so real.  And so intrusive.

If you have PTSD, think of your subconscious as a cat. Every now and then, in the course of grooming itself, it coughs up a furball. To watch it would make you think the thing is going to die. It heaves and it struggles. But it is on the way out, this thing that wasn't good for it in the first place, completely indigestible and could cause it harm if left unchecked.

After a while, the furballs run out. Mine took over ten years. They were more frequent at first. And then at the end, they surprised you. You thought it was over.

Under the surface, I have damage. But it does not affect my day to day life. It makes me a better healer. I understand. 

In those ten years, when I was trying ANYTHING to feel better, I wrote a letter to someone who was there at the time. This woman told me to 'keep it secret'. I wrote and said I know everything and I forgive you. She sent me an afghan with the granny stitch and an angel pin. The pin HORRIFIED me. The legs were open. Bent, but open enough to really freak me out.

One day my mom was at the apartment. She said, 'we don't need this any more!', took me by the hand, and together we dumped the blanket and the pin down the garbage chute. That was VERY theraputic.

Live in the now. I do. And the past is gone from me, forever. My child was worth it. In every way. Tonight he said, while he was falling asleep, 'I'm glad you are my mom.'

I save him from a predator. In my own family. He mentioned something funny in the tub. I believed him. And he started talking at the dinner table at his paternal grandmother's house. Said it was the same person. His father called social services on my own family member. They did a full evaluation. This family member was too old and sick. A relationship between my son and this person was important. But I was advised to NEVER let the two of them be alone. Sure enough, at the funeral, my son spoke. Age four. And almost shared another experience. No one else would have known, it sounded innocent, but in the context I knew.

I saved him.

I saved him from a life of hell on Earth. Nipped it in the bud. And I would do it again. Everything. Even the suffering for me so I would recognize it at once in my son.

Rascal Flatts has a song, 'My Wish'. Some words go, 'When you are faced with a choice and you have to choose, always choose the one that means the most to you.'

I did.

Heal. Love, Have heart. And Aloha!

Namaste,

Reiki Doc