There is no conclusion in infinity. There is only inclusion…. We arrive at the same non-arrivable place that We never left.
I believe we are here to contribute love to the planet, each of us in our own way. And while our human contribution to love is essential, humans are not the planet’s only source of love. When someone who lives alone tells me he is suffering because of an illness, grief, or depression, I advise him to develop a relationship. When you give meaning to your life in this way, it changes your life and how you and your body feel. My prescription for those who are ailing is to bring other living things into their lives, other beings who depend on them and that they feel connected to, such as a dog or cat. When people do this, they feel as if they must not die and break the animal’s heart. By opening your heart to an animal’s love, you give your body a reason to live.
Studies have revealed the survival benefits of having a dog, cat, or fish in your home or in nursing homes — and even of having plants, when the nursing home residents are given responsibility for care of the plants. Other studies found that, twelve months after suffering a heart attack, patients who came from homes with a dog had a significantly lower mortality rate than patients whose homes had no dog. In another study, stockbrokers with hypertension received treatment, but half of them also received a dog to take home and to work. Those with the dog maintained lower blood pressure.
One of my patients with cancer had twelve cats, and her family was concerned that her home wasn’t clean. They had even stopped visiting her there, because of the odor. They also worried that caring for the animals would be too much for her during the weeks of treatment, and they told me they had convinced my patient to let them give her cats away. I said to the family, “If you take the cats away from her, she’s dead. Tell her you can’t find a home for them; then go in and clean up the place.” They left the cats with her; the cats became her therapy, and she went on to have a successful recovery.
Our internal environment changes when emotions spark a series of electrical and chemical reactions. When a person strokes an animal, the hormone oxytocin is released into the blood of each. This is the same hormone that flows through a mother’s body after childbirth and causes her to bond with the baby. When the father and other family members hold the infant, they receive a similar burst of the bonding chemical. Hormones and neurotransmitters that help us relate to people and other living beings send live messages throughout our bodies. A simpler way of saying it is: bonding and caring is good for your health.
Not only do you have receptors in your brain, but you also have them in your stomach, fingertips, and many other places throughout the body. Why do people say they “feel good all over,” or that they have a “gut feeling” or a “broken heart?” When internal chemicals bond with receptors, your whole body becomes the beneficiary or suffers the consequences, depending on which hormones have been released. I’m talking about your bone marrow, the lining of your blood vessels, every organ, and every cell inside you.
The adage about animals stealing center stage is based on the fact that they have a wonderful way of making us laugh. Who can be miserable when her dog chases its tail, or her kitten jumps in fright as it walks by a mirror and sees its reflection? Science has proven that the composition of hormones and neuropeptides circulating in the blood of the individual who laughs several times a day differs from that of the person who is depressed, angry, or fearful; the person who laughs also has better survival statistics.
I cannot count the number of times I have seen the beneficial effect of an animal’s love on a patient’s will to live and that person’s resultant recovery. The message we need to learn from animals is this: use animals as your role models. Go outside and exercise. Play as often as you can. Make close bonds and friendships while practicing nonjudgmental listening, and show an empathic heart. Care for yourself as well as you care for your pets. Please don’t do what one cat lover did. She and her husband stopped smoking in the house and moved their unhealthy habit to the backyard in order not to kill their cats with secondhand smoke. If you want to live and be there for your pets, love yourself as much as you love them, and quit the unhealthy addictions.
Take a dog for a walk. Notice how you feel while walking with your canine companion as opposed to walking unaccompanied. Do people around you behave differently? For example, do they stop and talk with you? (A large percentage of the women interviewed in one city said they met the man they married while walking their dogs.) After the walk, pay attention to your mood. How does it compare to the way you felt before you walked the dog? If you are not ambulatory, have someone take you to an animal sanctuary. Hold a cat, small dog, or rabbit in your lap and spend time stroking it. Notice how you feel before, during, and after. Volunteer to go again.
Animals can act as catalysts, providing beneficial effects in our lives when we’re mired in challenging circumstances. In A Book of Miracles, Mary Rose Anderson tells of rescuing a stray cat that saved her daughter. Frances had been diagnosed with oppositional defiant disorder and Tourette’s syndrome, and she had major learning disabilities. Mary Rose compared her daughter’s daily tantrums and defiant behavior to that of the young Helen Keller before Annie Sullivan entered her life. It seemed to Mary Rose as though no one would ever be able to reach her daughter, regardless of the dedicated people trying to help her.
“When Harry the Child Whisperer entered our home,” says Mary Rose, “I watched in amazement as my daughter began to change.”1 Harry assigned himself the role of constant companion to Frances, and he purred with nonjudgmental love as he watched every move she made. Prior to Harry’s adoption, Frances had frequent loud eruptions of emotion and refused to focus during tutoring sessions or fell into silent defiance. But with the tail-swishing cat sitting on the chair beside her, Frances became more focused on the task at hand. She discussed whatever she was doing with Harry, engaging him in her lessons. Every night, no matter what had happened during the day, Harry climbed into bed with Frances and loved her to sleep. Under the calming influence of the rescued cat, Frances grew from a child with little hope of ever progressing, into a happy, productive young woman who loves to write poetry. This is an excerpt from one of her poems:
What if I were my cat?
I wonder what it would be like to always wake me up at seven
chewing on my toes. Do my toes taste good?
I wonder what it would be like to put my feline face
one inch from my patient, loving owner…
and meow.
Would I like hearing the sound of my own voice?2
Horses too play a significant therapeutic role for people with physical, mental, developmental, and emotional challenges. Individuals who undergo hippotherapy (horse therapy) look forward all week to that day, no matter if they have suffered a stroke, have undergone amputation, or have autism, Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, post–traumatic stress disorder, or any other condition that makes life uniquely challenging.
Gail Corell, president and volunteer coordinator for the Equestrian Crossings therapeutic riding program, believes that the physical and psychological improvements she has seen in their riders borders on the miraculous. “A horse reaches out to the heart of somebody in a way that no therapy ball could,” says Gail. She told me a story about Kirbey, their Percheron therapy horse that was originally rescued from a circus and then, later, rescued by the program’s instructor from a neglectful owner. “Last week, we took Kirbey to the South Whidbey Island Children’s Festival,” said Gail. “While standing in our section of the fairground, Kirbey directed his attention to something at the far end of the field. His behavior and body language signaled to our licensed vaulting coach and riding instructor, Miriam Burk, that he was keen to go over there. Wondering what had caught his interest with such intensity, she mounted the horse and let him take the lead. Kirbey strode out purposefully through that throng of people, passing hundreds of children and parents. He adores children,” explained Gail, “and passing by their outstretched hands was not something he usually wants to do. At the opposite end of the field, a girl was seated in a wheelchair, and she was all by herself. Kirbey walked directly up to her, stopped, and then lowered his head, letting her stroke him while their eyes [engaged in] a long, soulful conversation. From the moment that horse set eyes on the girl, Kirbey knew exactly what she needed and he brought it to her.”3
Emily Brink, a physical therapist and therapeutic riding instructor at Equestrian Crossings, has seen wheelchair-bound students who had been unable to hold themselves upright without assistance improve to such a degree that, in only eight months, they could sit upright and control their head movements. “In the hospital outpatient clinic,” says Emily, “I’m lucky to get a patient to move their pelvis between thirty and sixty repetitions per session. But when someone is sitting on a horse’s back, the horse’s movement forces the rider’s body to make movements that mimic walking, and the rider’s pelvis will be making repetitions well up into the thousands. This stimulates their brain and sends wonderful input to the core muscles; it improves posture and balance, develops coordination, and increases head and neck control. The rider’s self-confidence and overall mood get a tremendous boost. This sparks growth and development on multiple levels, making an incredible, positive change in their lives.”4
Animals communicate through consciousness rather than words, and they have much to teach us about being complete. In No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops’ Dogs and Cats Safely Home from the Combat Zone, Terri Crisp tells her story of the first eight months of Operation Baghdad Pups. Stray animals who had adopted American soldiers in the war zone had become family to the troops, and when their soldier buddies were redeployed, the animals needed a miracle to get out of Iraq. One Special Forces soldier returned home after several years of deployments, unable to speak to anyone and suffering severe symptoms of post–traumatic stress disorder. His mother feared she had lost her son. When she learned about the dog he’d left behind, she contacted the organization and begged for help. With their intervention, her son’s war buddy was eventually rescued and brought home to him in the States. When this mother looked out the window and saw her son talking to the dog, with his arm around the animal’s shoulders, and the dog listening to his every word, she cried tears of relief. The soldier’s mother said, “The war took my son away, but that dog saved his life and brought my son back again.”5
Crisp also tells the story of an officer in the U.S. Air Force who worked on a mental health team in Baghdad, and who rescued a puppy from the streets. Soldiers had been reluctant to come to the center for much-needed counseling, but when the puppy joined the counselors, soldiers came to the station and asked to see him. “While holding the dog, they would suddenly open up, and we could establish a therapeutic relationship,” the officer explains. “He was the best health technician on the team!” After being saved by Operation Baghdad Pups, the puppy, named Patton, was brought to the States, where he lived with the retiring officer. Months after the officer’s return, she discovered she had breast cancer. “Patton became my therapy and my coach. I don’t know what I would have done without him. He made me laugh and gave me hope. Now I’m well again and training to run a marathon.”6
Service animals have played an invaluable role in helping people to adapt and achieve things that most of us take for granted. When Jacquei shared her story with me, I was fascinated to learn that she was one of the first female mechanics to work on fighter jets for the U.S. Navy. She specialized in ejector seats, oxygen systems, fire extinguishers, and other lifesaving systems, and during her five years with the Blue Angels she went on tour across the United States and Canada. Jacquei’s favorite days were Fridays, when the Blue Angels put on shows for kids associated with the Make-A-Wish Foundation or they visited schools. “I loved it because the kids are curious and genuinely interested,” she said. “They asked good questions too, like why pilots don’t fall out of the jet when they fly upside down.” Jacquei had firsthand experience that helped her to answer that question. Her reenlistment was officiated by a naval officer as she rode in the back of an F/A-18 Hornet — inverted — only two hundred feet off the water.
Jacquei was forced to retire from the U.S. Navy for medical reasons. Her most debilitating injury was not the physical injuries incurred on duty but the severe post–traumatic stress disorder that haunted her daily life. “It’s like a light switch that suddenly turns on, and you can’t turn it off,” Jacquei explained. “An unexpected noise or movement puts me into a hyperalert state, and then a hairpin trigger shoots me into panic, fear, anger, or rage.” Jacquei suffers typical symptoms: sleep disturbances such as nightmares and sleepwalking, memory loss, startle response, and giant mood swings. Medication has not been successful in controlling all her symptoms.
“That’s where Sampson comes in,” she said as she stroked her four-pound Chihuahua service dog. “He knows before I do that something in my body is going wrong. He’ll climb into my lap, put his paws on my shoulders, and lick my face until I pay attention to him, drawing my focus away from the source of my agitation. Just looking at him and feeling him touch me calms the panic before it takes over. Some people scoff when I say this mini Chihuahua is a service dog, but Sampson has a Rottweiler spirit and protects me no matter where I go. His strong sense of duty to me makes it possible for me to go out in the world and live a relatively normal life. I tell the doubters that Sampson may be small, but every day he proves that size doesn’t matter.”
Animals are God’s complete creations, while humans are not complete. If you are suffering, bring an animal into your life. Love the animal and care for it. You will find that love given becomes love received, and that the reward of giving love is well-being.
I believe that creation comes from loving, conscious, intelligent energy, and when we leave our bodies in a near-death experience, we become un-alive again and reenter that state of perfection from which we came. I believe the intelligence that remains when we have a near-death experience, or when we find ourselves hovering above our bodies, is the same force that communicates via our dreams, speaks through symbols to our intuition, and guides our inner knowing. This, the universal collective consciousness, is the source of all creation, and it communicates with our consciousness.
Consciousness is nonlocal, which means it is not dependent on physical bodies, and it travels vast distances in an instant while crossing boundaries of language, species, space, and time. Amelia Kinkade, author, psychic, and animal communicator, told me while she was sitting in Los Angeles where to find our cat, Boo Boo, who had disappeared from our son’s home in Connecticut. While “seeing” through the cat’s eyes, she described the house and yard in incredible detail, and she identified where the cat was hiding. I went out and rescued Boo Boo from the exact place Amelia had seen from almost three thousand miles away.
Amelia also taught me that I had to quiet my mind in order to be able to communicate with my animals. One of my biggest problems is my tendency to mentally go to a place of fear when one of our pets is missing or acting strangely. I try to force them to do my will, and I bellow in fear or anger as I call their names while searching for them, or I go into my head and decide what the animal is thinking, neither of which ever works.
When Amelia referred to animal communication, she was talking not about verbal sounds or physical touch but about connecting my consciousness with the frequency of consciousness that the animals’ intelligence tunes into and understands. We are all capable of making this connection, but before nonlocal intelligence can communicate with us, we have to enter a state of mental stillness. It cannot get through when we are in turmoil, because turbulent minds cannot achieve the quiet state that reflects mirror images.
I have had many experiences when a voice has spoken to me, and it has usually happened while I was taking a walk or otherwise exercising and my mind was quiet. One such event happened just after I published a book called Buddy’s Candle. It is a story about a little boy’s love for his dog, Buddy, and how the dog taught him to appreciate life and handle death.7 I had written the story to help people of all ages deal with the loss of a loved one of any species.
On a Saturday morning, after the first printed copies of Buddy’s Candle arrived on my doorstep, I took our dog, Furphy, out for a walk. In the quietness, I heard a voice say to me, “Go to the animal shelter.” I have learned from experience to always listen to this voice, and I feel it is coming from God or, as my wife Bobbie says, from God-knows-where.
I decided to bring some copies of the book to the shelter, and when I arrived with Furphy I found a volunteer sitting next to the door holding a dog. The voice almost seemed as if it spoke through me as I said, “What’s his name?”
“His name is Buddy,” she replied. “A woman brought him in less than fifteen minutes ago because she doesn’t like how he behaves.”
The coincidence of his name struck me, and her comment about his owner reminded me of the only dog I had in my childhood. My mother, who did not want an animal in the house, would lower him by his harness out the window until he peed, then haul him back in again. After only a week, when I came home from school she told me that my dog was sick and that they had returned him.
How could I not adopt this animal? I knew that the collective consciousness had made the decision for me. His color matched Furphy’s coat, and he had no tail. Furphy’s had been amputated, so they matched. It was obvious we were family. At least in this case I got to choose my relatives. I gave everyone at the shelter a copy of Buddy’s Candle and took Buddy home with me.
Synchronous events, circumstances, names, numbers, and so on are signposts that a greater intelligence is playing a guiding role in the way those events happen. Remember, there are no coincidences, and our unconscious is always creating our future.
Months later I was at the shelter again, and they told me a dog named Simon, my dad’s name, was there and that he needed surgery to remove a large tumor. My background as an oncology surgeon made me aware of the urgency of his situation, so I helped pay his medical bills and took him home too. After he was fully recovered, we found a family who would give him lots of love and would keep sharing his story with us. We now have a cat named Simon, and I no longer reveal our family names to the people at the shelter.
Communicating with animals is inherent in all of us, Amelia explains in her book The Language of Miracles.8 Thought and emotion are electromagnetic waves that travel in specific frequencies, just like radio waves. If you are completely still when an animal sends out a thought or feeling, you can learn to match the frequency of your thought and emotion to the animal’s and vibrate on his wave. Animals think in pictures; they experience a broad scope of emotions and possess a huge capacity to love, give, and have meaningful relationships. When they realize that we have heard and understood their feelings and thoughts, they are grateful and reward us with their own better health and their devotion to us.
My animals also know what day I plan to groom them and make it hard for me to find them. Two outdoor cats didn’t show up for a week after I made their vet appointment, which I’d scheduled for the early morning with the idea that I could catch them and take them to the vet when they showed up for breakfast. The morning after I cancelled their appointment, they showed up bright and early for breakfast.
Now that I’m a believer, when I am presented with an animal problem I ask myself the WWAD question: What would Amelia do? Our beloved house rabbit, Smudge Eliza-Bunny, always began her day by running out the pet door in the morning, and she’d stay in our fenced-in front yard all day with our other creatures. I always wanted to know why she would allow my wife to pick her up and bring her into the house in the evening without any problem, but would run around for ten or fifteen minutes before letting me catch her when I attempted to do it. Most evenings, I was the one to bring her in, so it bothered me that Smudge made my gatekeeping job so difficult.
So after learning about animal communication from Amelia, my first WWAD was to go into our front yard the next evening and, in my head, ask our rabbit, “Smudge, why don’t you let me pick you up and bring you inside the way you let Bobbie do it?”
When I get an unexpected answer in my mind, it verifies for me that it is coming from the animal and not my imagination. In this case the answer was: You don’t treat the cats that way. When I went on to ask what she meant by that, Smudge communicated that I didn’t make the cats come in at a specific time. Instead I gave them the freedom to go in and out until my bedtime. I explained to Smudge that cats could defend themselves should a predator get into the yard, but I was worried about her being out late when it grew dark.
After our communication, Smudge hopped over and let me pick her up, and she continued to do so every day afterward. I will admit, some days she would smile at me and remind me of the old days for a minute or two, but I could tell it was just her sense of humor. And when I had appointments, I would go out into the yard, tell her I needed to leave the house and that I would feel better if she would come in. She always hopped right over to me when she knew I had a schedule to keep.
When Smudge died, Amelia said, “She will be with Rose, who loves her.” Amelia didn’t know that my mom’s name was Rose, or that Mom would die shortly after Smudge’s death. Now I know they are together again, sharing stories about me.
Last year I went shopping with our two dogs, Furphy and Buddy. The car we got into was a new minivan with remote control door mechanisms on the key. After shopping, I returned to the car and was horrified to see the side door was wide open, owing to my accidentally hitting the control. Buddy, the one I worried about most because he used to be terrified of going in the car, was sitting in the car peacefully, while Furphy was nowhere to be seen. My first reaction was panic, and I began to run around calling out his name and searching the areas around the parking lot. Then I remembered, “You are not doing what Amelia taught you,” and so I asked myself, WWAD?
I quieted down and went into Furphy’s head to find out what he was thinking. Immediately I realized he was searching for me, and he was probably at the front desk of the market, with someone asking over the loud speaker: “Whose dog is this?” I say that because, when I attended Amelia’s workshop at the Omega Institute, Furphy was not let into the dining hall. So during the lunch break, I left him at the back door and told him to wait for me to come out, which he usually does. But that time he didn’t. Before long, a man came through the hall with Furphy in his arms, asking whose dog it was, and we were reunited. Apparently Furphy had run around to the front door and into the foyer, searching for me. He won over everyone’s heart, and they let him stay.
This time, as I approached the front entrance of the supermarket, I saw a security guard sitting in his car. He lowered the driver’s window and asked, “Are you looking for a dog?” I answered yes, and he said, “Here he is, on the front seat with air conditioning, water, and treats.” The guard went on to tell me that he had seen Furphy walking toward the front of the market and didn’t want him to be hit by a car, so he had picked him up and kept him safe. After I thanked the man, Furphy followed me back to the car, and we have never had that problem again.
Now to explain about Buddy and why I was surprised at who stayed in the car and who left: After adopting Buddy from the animal shelter, I could never get him to go into a car without difficulty. He even jumped out of the car once when I stopped for gas. At home, if I didn’t have him on a leash, getting him into the car was a frustrating, time-consuming experience. Finally one day I thought, WWAD?
I then calmed myself and asked Buddy why he wouldn’t get in the car. I was amazed at his answer. He said the woman who previously owned him was very nice, but when her husband came home from work she would ask him to take the dog for a walk. Buddy told me, He would put me in the car and then drive to a bar and leave me in the car. When he came out he would be abusive because of his drinking and just take me home, never having let me out for a walk. So getting into a car reminds me of all the abuse I received, and it scares me.
On that day, Buddy’s disobedience ended. We now understood each other. Buddy can enjoy the car because he knows we are always going out to share the day. He loves to chase moving things in the woods near our home, and yet I never have to worry about his not coming home. Whenever I open the side door of the car, before I can say, “Jumpee upee!” he is in the front seat raring to go.
Furphy and Buddy are my cotherapists in support groups and anywhere they are allowed entry. The only problem is, now that they know we can communicate, Furphy never stops telling me what to do and interrupts therapy groups unless he gets a treat, which is my sign to him that we are starting the therapy session.
The other day I drove off, thinking they were both in the car, but after a half mile I realized no one was telling me where to go or what to do. I turned to look in the back of the car and saw only Buddy. I immediately connected with Furphy and told him I was sorry and was coming home. I turned around and drove, knowing Furphy would be sitting in the driveway giving me that Boy, are you a dumbbell look that God’s complete creations give to us incomplete human beings. It’s a look I also used to get from the cats when I accidentally locked them out overnight. Now, every evening before I get into bed, I take attendance, intuitively and physically, to be sure all our kids are in the house and no one is locked out. I let them know I want them in for their protection and not just because I desire their company, and that’s when they show up at the door.
My friend experienced an intuitive connection with her dog while she was attending an animal healing workshop and her dog had been left at home. Cindy wrote,
During our meditation session it blew my mind when unexpectedly I found myself looking up at someone who seemed as tall as a giant. I was at the level of her knees. I suddenly realized the giant was me, and I was no longer in my body! Being a short person, I had never thought of myself as tall. That’s when it hit me that I was not looking through my own eyes, but seeing from my dog’s perspective. I could understand Pickles’s thoughts and feel his feelings. The love he had for me was so encompassing, I was almost overwhelmed. I have never experienced a depth of pure love such as that. Its existence was more than heart and a feeling; it was his soul radiating for me, and it nearly brought me to tears.
Pickles had stopped using his back leg after two consecutive knee operations. During recovery from the first surgery, he’d managed to remove the cone collar, pull out his stitches, and lick it, and the resultant infection damaged the area to the point that he had to have a second surgery. Weeks after the wound healed, he would not use that leg but let it hang limp while the others took over. On the day of the animal healing workshop, Pickles’s feelings and picture thoughts made me understand that he believed he had done something bad, and that’s why his leg had been hurt. He felt really, really sorry and was trying his best to be good, so he stopped using the leg.
I felt awful when I realized how Pickles had interpreted his pain from the second operation as punishment. I assured him with my mind that he had done nothing wrong, that he was always a good boy and we loved him dearly. When I got home after the three-day workshop, the first thing I did was spend time with him doing energy work on his leg and body, and let him know how loved he was. I continued the routine of healing and loving sessions every day.
Immediately Pickles began to use the leg. Within two weeks, he even began to run on it, and after four weeks, when I tested his leg’s resistance at extension, it had increased from about 20 percent of normal resistance to around 80 percent. What amazed me was that, not only did he lose his fear of using the leg, but he was healed in another way too. Pickles had suffered from epileptic seizures for as long as we’d had him, and the vet wanted to put him on medication to reduce their frequency. The medicine made him feel sleepy all the time. If all he wanted to do was sleep, what kind of a life was that for him? So we didn’t give him the medicine. After the knee-healing sessions, Pickles never had another seizure. His epilepsy went away.
I could share many more stories about energy healing. When the vet recommended euthanizing one of our dogs because he had never seen a dog as sick as that recover, the children wouldn’t let me give my consent. I saw this animal turn around completely and recover from terminal cancer with love and touch. I have experienced energy healing myself after an injury. To learn more about the topic of energy work, see The Energy Cure, by William Bengston, a book I have found fascinating.
Although I have always tried to keep an open mind, nothing in my training as a physician taught me to understand that all life-forms emit a mirror image of invisible conscious energy at the subatomic quantum level, nor that this energy can be communicated by individuals through psychic or intuitive methods. I also wasn’t told that people can facilitate the spontaneous healing of physical problems in the body using conscious energy.
One day Bobbie and I were at a meeting of the American Holistic Medical Association, and the guest speaker was Olga Worrall, an author and renowned mystic who communicated with spirits and performed spiritual healings.9 Olga said that when she worked, she tuned her personal energy field to a harmonious relationship with the universal field of energy, thus becoming a conductor between that field of energy and the patient. She explained that emanations surround every individual, and that these emanations are caused by electrical currents flowing in the physical body. She spoke of sound waves coming from the physical organs, thought waves from the mind, and vibrations from the spiritual body, or aura.
Olga’s ability to channel energy had been tested by many respected scientists in dozens of controlled experiments; often the experiments took place over vast distances, so it was not about beliefs but research. I was amazed by her presentation, but because my medical training and experience did not include the possibility of what she described, I remained skeptical.
After Olga spoke, my wife said I should go up and ask her to heal my thigh injury, which had occurred while I was training to run a marathon. I told Bobbie that Olga’s claims were too hard for me to believe. So Bobbie went up and asked Olga to help me, and she came over. I sat in a chair while Olga sat in front of me and put her two hands on the injured area. Her hands felt like hot irons through my dungarees. I put my hands on my leg but didn’t feel any warmth at all. Five minutes later, she was done. I stood up and walked away, totally free of any pain or problems in my leg. I have learned from events of this kind to accept what I experience as valid and not be limited by my beliefs, training, and the need to explain everything.
Olga and I became close friends after that. Years before, during a meditation, I had met my inner guide, George. I saw him as a figure with a beard, cap, and white robe. He seemed so real, but I had trouble believing that he was anything more than an element of my powerful imagination. I thought I must have pulled his character out of my subconscious.
Once, when I spoke at a funeral that Olga was attending, she came up to me and said that the whole time I was speaking to the mourners, a man was standing close beside me. She described him and his mode of dress, and it sounded exactly like the man in my meditation, the man I call George. She said he was a rabbi, which explained his clothing and cap, and she got me to understand that he was there to encourage, support, and help me to heal on this physical plane.
Another time as I was giving a lecture, I realized that the words I spoke were not mine. Someone else was deciding what was being said, and was using my voice to deliver it. A woman I had never met came up to me afterward and said, “A man was standing in front of you for the entire lecture, so I drew his picture for you.” She handed me her drawing, and it was George again. That same night someone else said to me, “I have heard you speak before, but this was better than usual.” Nowadays, I just leave it to George.
When the physical body dies, the individual spirit reunites with the greater consciousness but keeps its own identity. I think this also explains what we call a past-life experience, a term that describes something that happened to me. In describing it, I think of a pregnant woman carrying a child within her, one who is a different soul, but who comes from her DNA. During my past-life experience, it was as if I were being impregnated with the consciousness from another person’s life, one that had been lived before mine.
I have also had many experiences in which patients who had died were still able to communicate with me or their loved ones. For example, a doctor colleague of mine, named Frank, had always been skeptical of anything that wasn’t in the realm of physical science, and he didn’t believe that the spirit lived on after the death of the body. A few months after Frank died, a mystic patient of mine said, “I have a message for you from someone named Frank: ‘If I’d known it was this easy, I’d have bought the package a long time ago and not have resisted so much.’ ”
Later I called Frank’s widow and gave her the message the mystic had delivered. “Oh my God, that was Frank!” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “Whenever anyone at your group meetings brought up the topic of life after death, afterward he’d always say to me, ‘I just can’t buy the package.’ Those were his very words.”
So keep your mind open to the possibility of communication across species, time, and distance. Consider adding the work of energy practitioners to your traditional therapy or treatment. Certified practitioners of treatments such as Reiki, massage, and acupuncture often augment the healing process and affect the body in a beneficial way. Learn how to still the mental turmoil and pay attention to the voice within you. Allow the miracle of love to enter and heal your life. When we love our lives, our bodies often get the message, decide to live, and heal.