- Conference Presenters
- REGISTER ONLINE NOW - 2022 Virtual Conference
- 2022 Virtual Conference Evaluation
- Opportunity to Participate in Healing Touch Research
- Follow us on social media!
- Public Health Guidelines for HT Students & Practitioners
- The Impact of the Pandemic on Course Work & Professional Development
- Giving Tuesday 2022
My Shopping Cart
Healing Touch Blog
Latest news and information from Healing Touch
Healing Presence. Sharing Our Stories
Healing Presence. Sharing Our Stories.
An Invitation and a Healing Touch Story
From Victoria Cornelius MD, CHTP, RYT,
Member, Healing Beyond Borders Board of Directors
V. Cornelius for Healing Beyond Borders 5/1/2022
Today is Sunday, and I woke up and went to an early church service. I got there, praying, meditating, finding calm, settling in. It is a sacred space and has had a million plus prayers said there to pave an express portal, the fast lane to Nirvana. The external distractions were removed and it was easier to navigate to an interior state. Or so I thought.
Lo and behold a family of three women, a baby, three boys under seven, and two preteens settled in the pew in front of me. To say chaos had sat in front of me would be an understatement. It was obvious that one of the children had inconsolable issues and the commotion would not have been permitted in most public spaces. Peace where are you? It would be true that most in the church, including me, wanted them to leave or go to the crying room. The gentleman in front of the family gave looks that said, “Make your children mind.” There was coughing and shifting behind me and looks from children that seemed exasperated with this boy. And it was not the first time, their looks said.
This is not what I wanted. I was struggling with resistance and was anything but a Healing Presence. I wasn’t negative, I have learned that much but I was assessing my move away. This was my time. And sometimes that is the answer.
I asked myself, “What do I need to learn from this?” The young boy‘s behavior escalated into a near panic attack; he did not want to join his age group for a procession. The family was trying to redirect his behavior and have him participate.The source of the pain emanated from the child and the baby was now wailing. Like waves sent out from a dropped stone, we were all riding these energetic swells of cacophony.
I sent intention to my higher self to communicate to his higher self to ask for help and to smooth the agitation. My state was certainly improved, for myself, if not for them. The service started and we began to stand and pray together. Things seemed to be settling down a bit. I certainly changed by attention to the service and not wanting things to be different. The noise died down or I just didn’t notice. We all changed our attention. It was almost as if the tidal wave of the community swept them into the group effort and away from the behaviors. Maybe our pulse, our unity of flow was healing. Maybe the moms were looking for a community that is big enough for the children to develop a rhythm of prayer and song. I smiled and waved to a few of the children during the service. They seemed grateful to have us absorb and diffuse the discomfort. We were present to both their pain and struggles, a healing presence.
Our theme for the conference is “Moving into Presence, Embracing the Future.” Peace is not the absence of a storm, but peace is the calm in the middle of it, anchoring to intention and attention. The external grabs at us. We want to fix it, manipulate it, do it our way. Can we stay with the discomfort? Can we be really comfortable with the discomfort? Are we witnessing so the resistance can dissolve?
Healing Beyond Borders is our community and we need to add more stories to share our ways and inspiration to help the flow of healing energy on this planet. We want the current of our organization to embrace others, embrace the future. At our conference, I spoke of gathering healing stories for a book collection.That has not yet manifested as the details to create this are still being teased out.
What we are proposing is to have stories submitted for the ezine or another digital means. We are considering another site to collect the stories and share. The final look is unclear and unfolding. But we know you have stories. The people who came up to me at conference had amazing experiences that need to be shared. Sterling stories.
Below is one of my first stories of healing as a member of this community. I shared it at conference and now retell it to include more people. Note: I have changed the name and some of the identifiers to respect and maintain patient confidentiality of the patient in the following story. I look forward to the conference and ways that we will ignite this path.
Tom was scheduled as the first patient of the day, complaining of chest pain. Mr. Thomas Adams presented to our university medical office for care. Neither the male medical student nor I had met this 76‐year‐old man before.
We walked into the examining room, greeting Mr. Adams. He was a lean, gray‐haired man who appeared younger than his age. He stood as we entered. We shook hands and I encouraged him to sit, seeing that he was anxious and a bit tired.
We began the interview, asking the usual medical questions, “When does it hurt, with activity or rest? Describe the pain, duration, location.” Next the personal questions poured out. Tom had been traveling a lot and was also a caretaker for his wife. She had many health needs and these were becoming too demanding. He was not sleeping well.
The answers and the exam were reassuring but required a heart tracing known as an electrocardiogram, and labs to rule out something more sinister and threatening. His stress level was very high. I explained that stress was playing a part in his symptoms and an acute heart attack was unlikely. We discussed his need for more support for his wife and less demands on his time. We scheduled a follow up.
This was 2007. Wanting to support patients with tools, self‐care experiences, and empowering their efforts, I took a chance with Mr. Adams. I offered a complementary medicine calming technique. I phrased it as such to get a “buy‐in.” I used the words Healing Touch and described it as a technique to calm his mind. Remember, he came for science, and I was offering something else and knew nothing of his spiritual, religious, or energy literacy. The medical student was off grid and looked somewhat confused. It was not in the text book.
I wanted to focus on wellness and Healing Touch had opened that door. I was not yet certified but had taken a few courses.This technique, now known as Noel’s Mind Clearing technique is brief and effective to rebalance mental agitation. He was my first “medical” patient, getting an office treatment.
Mr. Adams agreed, willing anything for some relief from his current state. He sat in his chair with his eyes closed. I started with the healer preparation: grounding, centering, connecting, intention. I moved my fingers symmetrically around the center of his skull, like playing music and a song of perfect notes. I murmured what I was doing as he kept his eyes shut and trusted the energy and me. Someone once told me, “The fingers divine the flesh.” It seemed so that day.
The room was very still as I grounded him at the collar bones and disconnected from his field. I moved away as Mr. Adams opened his eyes.After a bit, I asked how he felt. His reply was, “I felt the laying on of hands.”
One can be in medicine for many years and will not have this type of shared experience. These 15 years later, I can still hear his spoken words. He left that day feeling a peace that had been eluding him with his recent responsibilities. There was an awareness that there were powers and support helping him beyond his own efforts. Perhaps with others, he could tap into it. We witnessed faith and hope emerging from this experience.
It was a blending of science and the therapeutic effects of Healing Touch. What was the greatest gift that day? The whole energetic experience of repatterning for his highest good... and ours. In giving we receive, and it is still a shared blessing and a humble memory.