Holistic Healing, Part II

So, on the advice of the girl who I saw for energy work, I finally caved and went to see the Maori healers. They are only in LA about once a year, and they are known for their work with infertility and pregnancy. I told myself back in January that if I wasn't pregnant again by July, that I would go see the Maori healers. But when I read their website, they talked about helping to eliminate fear, which can create disease.

This is from their website (www.halemana.org):
What we do is work the other bodies too (not just the physical, as many people concentrate on now) with the ultimate aim of having the spiritual body open and flowing. There is a difference in energy work and hands-on, of course, because there is the physical touch and then the non-physical touch. We use different amounts of energy to move the emotional traumas that are ready to be released. We see ourselves as no more than the instruments of change.

I was very nervous about going; because I had heard they work some people so intensely that they cry out in pain. I certainly didn't want them to hurt me or my baby. But when I called for an appointment, they told me that I would be with Papa Joe, who is the only one who works with pregnant women. Apparently, he has had healing powers since he was born. The Maori healers are part of an ancient tribe who have been practicing this healing for centuries. They read your body and use pressure to help relieve tensions and anxieties that have been created within you. I was so nervous, because they had already started on one guy and he was screaming in pain (he reminded me of my brother,though, he was a little overly dramatic). I got on the table, on my back, and Papa Joe came over. He didn’t say a word, just sat down and held my feet, reading them, I assumed. After about 10 minutes of this, he used something (his fingernail? A needle?) to dig into certain parts of my feet, deeply. A couple of times the pain was intense. But afterwards, I did feel some sense of release in my feet. I think he was possibly doing pressure points that corresponded to my body, since he couldn’t really work on my body because I was pregnant. Then, from the door to the left, came a man in a wheelchair. He seemed very kind. I was on one of those pregnancy massage tables that has a hole for my face, so I could see him roll up to my head, pull his feet out of the wheelchair, and settle in. Papa Joe said, “whenever you’re ready,” and I was even more afraid that something painful was coming. I looked up at him and asked, “should I scream if it hurts?” “If it hurts,” he replied. “Will it hurt?” I asked. “It might,” he said, with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.

But it didn’t hurt. He mainly lay his hands on my head, then my chest and my arms, again, as if he were reading my body. I felt myself go into a trance, and I went down, so deep that I was at the bottom of the ocean, and I was living there. It was as if he took me to a former life, where I was part of the sea. Life was calm, and wonderful, and exploratory. Then I was thinking about Owen, and about how sad I felt for him, for his life that I created. And I felt tears prick my eyelids. I felt so overwhelmingly sad, for both of us. After a while, they asked me to turn over, and I again felt such sadness overwhelming me that tears were falling out of my closed eyes. Finally, a woman came over and asked me how I felt. She told me my session was over. She helped me off the table, and I said, “They made me cry.” “You had much sadness to bring to the surface. It’s probably long overdue.” She was right. I had never allowed the deepest sadness to come to the surface and come out. I thanked Papa Joe, and the other man, and walked away, tears still spilling out. I was given some notes that Papa Joe had written for me.

When I walked out of there, I felt so free, as if chains had fallen off me. I didn’t feel that different, I just felt relaxed, and okay with myself. The demons of my mind have stopped their constant chatter, and for me, that is well worth it.