My family has never been the ‘listen to the medical doctor/ only scientifically proven facts’ kind of family. To give you an idea of this, my brother’s first word was “homeopathic” and for my eighth birthday, instead of a pony or a soccer ball, I got a Sai Baba book on tape and some of his healing powder, which he makes from his hands but looks like gray baking soda and dust and tastes pretty much like it too. The two shots I have ever gotten were for tetanus and polio years ago. In fact, I have never even been to a hospital for myself, not even when I was born as my mom and dad had a midwife in our Vermont home. Furthermore, the first time I ever took an Advil type pain killer was when a solid marble table fell on my foot causing a severe hairline fracture less than a year ago (which I still didn’t actually go to a hospital for). Instead, my family and I tend to opt for homeopathic medicine, and Reiki, the practice of healing through one’s own self. This kind of stuff is called “holistic” health.
One of my first and most vivid memories is of my Reiki class. My mom put it together to teach me and three other kids how to find the healing power of Reiki and use it on both others and ourselves. We sat in meditation for hours, finding our inner self and light. After, we walked up Mount Aldefer and meditated further, looking out across the mountainous green woods and town of Evergreen. Of course, I ate it up, believing I was truly accessing that hidden healing power deep in my six-year-old core. It goes like this:
1. Center, make sure there are no distractions
2. Breathe deeply touching the point of pain
3. Find the ball of light in your core and take some of the light in a stream to your fingertips
4. Form some of the light in a stream down to your fingertips and through them to the point of pain
5. Pain disappears (or some at least)
After that class, I felt like a messiah sent to my fellow six year old classmates to deliver them from pain and reveal their blindness to their true potential. Whenever someone was hurt, I pounced to prove my Reiki skills and fix their minor pain, convincing many along the way of my newly acquired powers.
Of course, as time went on more of the kids believed in science and facts over my healing, and my Reiki became a class joke. I always laughed with them, thinking how ridiculous it seemed, but still some part of me always believed.
There are so many things science can’t prove: the rare disappearance of an incurable cancer, and even the other day I read that hypnosis somehow has to power take away warts.
I believe in believing. I believe in science too, but there is so much more than just the facts in front of us. Although I don’t use Reiki still today (my mom does it on me though occasionally I admit), I believe in the power of one’s mind. Too much these days is based on what we can see, touch and prove. Drugs, doctor medicine, and science are extremely depended upon for every little scratch or depressing thought. I believe in having faith and finding healing in oneself. My friends call me kooky and maybe they’re right, but when they’re laughing, I’m laughing even harder. Because while they have their science books and Tylenol, I have something they’ll never have (and I’m not just talking about Sai Baba books on tape). I have belief in hope and possibilities unexplained.
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