i am Not a Healer

It has been forty minutes in an altered brain rhythm. We have slipped from below ordinary consciousness, below psychic all the way down to spiritual healing. It is a state where words, thoughts and actions are not ruled completely by the ego. The shadow has quieted down enough to allow the True Self to speak and be present. The answers are usually simple, a word, a phrase or maybe even just a syllable. In this case, very simple: “Yes”. This is life as a Reiki Practitioner for me.

I am not a Healer. I am fortunate to get to participate in healing experiences but not Healer. At times I am passed information intuitively but not a psychic. Have facilitated many spiritual counseling session but am not The Counselor. Teachings have spilled out of mouth initiating growth and development almost on a regular basis, often daily, but I am The Teacher. There have been more situations than I could possibly count when I “read” someone’s spiritual history at first glance, but am not a telepath. I have no particular skills or talents of a supernatural nature. I am not anyone special, at least not anymore so than the next man or woman. How could I be? Why would the Divine give one child any more gifts than another? Arrogant I am; but not that arrogant, at least not at this moment.

I have been noticing lately how many folks claim to be Healers, Shaman, Teachers and a host of other grand positions. If so, why are they still working with the people they have “healed”? More importantly, why would anyone want to be “healed”? If a Shaman or Healer rids them of their blemish, how will they know what to do next time they encounter a similar obstacle?

Where did this concept of such demonstrations of Grace begin to be labeled as talents and/or skills? What extreme arrogance I have would have to posses to think these are something I am in charge of or belongs to me. Like Healing and auto maintenance are both skill sets that can be memorized or categorized similarly. One can learn how a Suzuki Samurai works and have complete mastery over returning it to its homeostasis when trained properly, at least in most cases. But Healing is not that way, or should I say, my experiences have been contrary to that. So what skills or talents do I posses that contribute to me in working with others? I Pray a lot. If I was to grasp on to one skill it would be that I Pray a lot. Another one that comes to the surface is I am relentless. I push and push and push rarely accepting defeat or limitations. I barrel through without allowing fear to trump the possibility of Healing, mine or someone else’s. I have great Faith in Healing. Although I am not sure Faith is an honest portrayal. I have experienced and witnessed time and time again the Will and Courage rise up from within us for greatness to really call it Faith. Faith implies believe, I do not believe in anything. I wait till I have enough evidence and that is what I exist on- evidence not Faith.

After fifteen years of laying my hands on people, holding their hands while they shared their deepest fears and suffering, witnessing their first Prayer since childhood and seeing that look in their eyes that can only be sparked with the Divine, I would not be honest to say I have Faith. I once had Faith, I once believed in healing and there was a time a when I thought I was “special” or “gifted”.

I used to live with a guy who was divorced and shared custody of his 11-year-old daughter who was a Downs Syndrome kid. She was a bossy kid but loved to sit and watch me Pray and complete Reiki self-treatments when she stayed with us on weekends. She would watch me sometimes for several hours riveted. I remember before meeting Katie, I heard people talking about how being around a “special needs” child teaches us many things. I did not know they were talking about what she taught us about patience and compassion was her patience and compassion, not ours. I learned from her how hard it must be to live in a world where those around you can easily understand each other but have no clue what I am trying to tell them. How much patience it must take to watch us fools try to get her to be something she is not, but still love us. What love and healing her presence brought to others and me. Not because a “special needs” kid could tie her shoe or cut her own noodles. Because she put up with our lack of understanding of her world relentlessly and loved us in spite of our ignorance. At times it was unbearable to me the gap between her willingness to love and accept me versus mine to her. Katie was one of the few Healers I have known in my life.

I remember the first “miracle” I experienced with Vibrational energy. It was 1993 and I was a Radio Shack manager. I ran many stores but this owe was located at a little mall. They sent me this young woman to help out since I was low of staff. She was attractive, fashionable and friendly but didn’t have a clue what a capacitor or integrated circuit was. Hey, I needed the help. One day I was in my office and she came in crying uncontrollably. I asked, “Hey what’s going on?'

“I just left the doctors office and they confirmed I have cancer in my liver.”

I was stunned. She may not even have been 21 at this point. I didn’t know what to do but somehow this spilled out of mouth without thinking, “I have just begun receiving training in some kind of Vibrational healing through touch. I have not tried it on anyone yet but I would be willing to try it with you.” Just like that manager became human being.

“Oh my God! I was u all night last night watching TV because it couldn’t sleep. I saw this show about people that do that and was wondering if there was anybody in New Jersey who does it. YES! I would love to try this if you would be willing”.

I put my hands on her shoulders and Prayed for about five minutes or so, maybe longer. I saw colors and felt warmth. It was eerie in a good way. I didn’t know how to stop or what one does yet, so I just sat back down at my desk. She was crying but with different tears this time. A week later she came back to work, ran in and hugged me. She had just left the doctors office and there were not traces of cancer. Nothing. The ran the tests several times and found nothing. About a year later I received training in Reiki, and have practiced some form of Reiki daily since January 26th, 1995. I have witnessed many miracles. It is humbling every time. It lets me know my place in the grand scheme of things. Not very big for the record.

I am not Healer. I have no particular skills or talents. My name is michael. I like to Pray. Join me.

Blindness

As the weather in South Korea starts to turn, so have the leaves. I have been looking forward to this more this year than past. I wanted to see what it looks like here in autumn. It has arrived. Red, burnt orange, orange, yellow, ochre, green and light green fill the streets of Cheonan. Today, being a sometimes-sunny sometimes-cloudy day, I wanted to get out on Tang San Mountain with camera and hiking shoes to enjoy the day. I did not leave my room till about 3:30, which was fine. It is getting dark near 6:00 so I would have plenty of time to explore and take pictures of the trees and whatever else caught my fancy. I got some great shots of the top of the white cement apartment buildings foreshadowing all the mountains in the background that surround the city of Cheonan. I had not seen this view before since it was the first time I made it to this trail. This one was more vigorous of an incline and had better unobstructed views of the city.

After about 45 minutes, I decided to take my first off the main path trail. I knew I had time before dark and know my way around this part of the city well enough that wherever I ended up, I would be OK. Along the way, I asked my Higher Self to be in charge and giude me where I needed to be, I trusted that and felt the support. I got lost and it took about a 1-½ hours to make it to the other main trail I typically hike on. No big deal.

I saw there was a set of steps with a sign marking to be only 0.2 km to the end. The steps seemed to go forever but I had been in the middle of the woods by myself in search of solitude long enough. I thought some time walking on the street would be nice. I started towards the top step and there was a woman by herself on the top step. She was wearing a green shirt with a lighter green shawl around her neck and shoulders. Her pants were black and she had semi-long black hair. Everybody in Korea has black hair. She was standing on the top stop in the exact middle twirling and rubbing her hands on a red leaf that looked similar but with less edges than an oak tree would produce. I paused for a second before entering, not wanting to disturb her intense experience with the leaf. She seemed so focused and single-minded. About a minute later, I decided to slowly walk around her without breaking her moment. I started down what looked like more than a hundred wood and dirt steps with a sharp incline slowly. I typically do not have good balance on steps for some reason. I focused my energy to my feet and my balance improved. As soon as I started walking, the woman in the green shirt started right behind me, like right behind me. I felt a little nervous, since I am not accustomed to folks walking right on my tail in the woods, especially down steps. I slowed to let her pass but she didn’t. I stopped, stood to the right side and motioned for her to pass gently; she stopped right behind me and wouldn’t look at me. I started again, walked about seven or eight steps and stopped again. She stopped directly behind me and I again motioned for her to pass. Again she did not, but this time she stomped her foot on the ground loudly. Still no eye contact or acknowledgement. I felt uncomfortable at this point. What social/cultural boundary have I broken? Is it not proper for women to pass man on steps? Is she afraid of walking in front of me? While finishing this third question, I approached a small bench inches off the trail on the right for folks to rest while trying to make it to the top due to the sharp incline. These trails have many older folks enjoying them and a bench is a good thing. For me, it was Blessing at this moment. I stopped, and sat on the bench’s left side with my backpack still on, since I planned on only staying there till the woman in the green sweater passed and created some distance for me. She stood right in front of me and stomped again. Her expression was blank but intense. I looked up and her eyes were closed. She looked like she was forcefully praying or something similar. I could feel her frustration and did not know what to do. I sat there still leaning back against my black pack. She started stomping more and did it several times, maybe eight or nine. She became more forceful and firm in her stomping each time. Her energy was strong and willful. She needed me to do something but could not tell me or was not willing to do so. I sat. A minute later she started walking. She walked slowly and I looked in another direction to not be rude. About ten steps later, she started stomping again on a large white rock at a curve in the step-path. She looked downright angry at this point. I was scared. I did not know what to do but sit. While she was stomping on the white rock, an elder couple with hats on passed her coming up the hill. Another couple, going down, passed her and then she started walking again. I felt a sigh of relief.

I waited about five minutes seated there on the bench to give her some space. I recalled she never let go of that red leaf in her right hand the whole time. I man and his son plopped down next to me, we exchanged pleasant glances. Then it hit me. It was not a social/cultural issue, the woman was blind. She could not see and would listen for the steps of those in front of her to find her way down the to the bottom safely. She was not standing at the top step to be with her red leaf; she needed a guide to make it down safely. She was not avoiding eye contact, she could not see me! My blindness was the problem, not hers. A sharp pain ran through my gut. What a jerk I am. I felt shame and embarrassment. I asked my Higher Self to send me where I needed to go and I was directed to lead her down Tang San Mountain safely. I failed and was somewhat rude along the way. I prayed for forgiveness, stared to cry on the bench next to the man and his son. They could not tell. I prayed for her. How could I do such a thing? What is wrong with me?

I got up to head down the trail. I walked down the steps faster than normal. I wanted to do something, anything but be alone with my shame. I am such a fool. When I made it to the bottom. There was a small park with a playground. A couple of moms and kids were playing. There was a woman sitting on a bench to the right. I looked and it was not her. I did a mental check to make sure I remembered what she was wearing correctly- green shirt with a light green shawl and black pants. No, she was not there. I walked towards the sidewalk I saw about fifty feet ahead. I looked both left and right, across the street and in every direction. She was nowhere to be found. I started in the direction that I thought would bring me home since I did not recognize the streets or area that was around me. About fifteen feet to my left and there she was. How did I not see her when I looked? She was stopped with the red leaf in her hand. She stood as if she was taking inventory of her situation, so was I. She paused then started walking in the direction towards me very slowly. She appeared cautious in her steps. As I passed her on her left, I softly said, “ I am sorry” knowing she would not understand the words but possibly the sentiment and energy behind the words. I sensed her focus was elsewhere and hearing some babble in another language by some guy was not high on her priority list at that moment. I started walking again; tears were again building up inside me. I am so blind. I know nothing. I think I do but I do not. Blindness, total blindness. I looked back and she was walking on the yellow grooved tiles that mark the center of Korean sidewalks for folks visually impaired. Her strain and focus was intense. I prayed for her. I prayed for me that I may learn how to see. I prayed and held back tears the entire hour or so it took me to get back my neighborhood. Along the way, a few different groups of young kids did the “Hello” routine with the foreigner. Typically I enjoy their enthusiasm and excitement. Today I was too full of shame but I played along because that it was the foreigner does with kids, play along. I stopped at ‘815’ grocery store to pick up some stuff for dinner. The bright lights and activity startled me. I brushed away my feelings and did what I needed to do. I left with my backpack stuffed with chicken, curry, eggplant and cucumbers. One block till home and still blind. “I was blind, but now I see” runs through my head with its soft, warm melody. Grace, that is what I need.

Mother Theresa was once asked, “Why you pray so much?”

“Because I need it. I don’t pray enough. I should pray more so I could be of greater service. I need it, that is why I pray.”

I need to pray more. I am blind and need to learn how to see.

Vacations

i have strange relationship with vacations and the word vacation. The word conjures up visions of white people all over the world having people of color serving them hand and foot like slaves. There is no greater example of white privilege than vacations and how they are constructed in my experience. Where women do what they would never do at home and almost always regret, and men get drunk and cheat on the women that love them. Somehow folks think the are Karmically exempt on vacations. Shopping in malls in every corner of the globe still is shopping and making rich white people richer. The Gap in milan is the same as the Gap in Seoul and in downtown madison, wi, usa. The excuse to spend wrecklesslly and treat the human body like a terrorist holding your child for ransom is obscene to me. So in that sense, i hate vacations. There are very few things in the world i hate- that definition of vacation is one of the select group.

OK, so what do i see as a vacation that is not despicable to me? Time off to meditate, walk, bike ride, camp, write, paint, sleep, sing, hike, snuggle, be with those i love, meet new people on adventures, push beyond my comfort zone, enter communities quietly and humbly, not as a tourist or vacationer. Help out a local organization while there. Drop by the local parks and visit with people who talk to you because you are a nice person, not because you paid them to be nice to you. Stay in a youth hostel, raizon, or a guest house. Be with real people with real lives. Walk gently and leave no foot print. Beaches are my favorite places for time away from home. Mountains are not far behind but it is still beaches when given the opportunity.

If never have tried it, traveling through Couch Surfing Project is my favorite way to travel. The CS project is an international community of over 600,000 folks who offer their homes and or time to help your stay in their community feel like home, a real home with real people who are nice because they are nice. There are no financial transactions made and i have made many great friends and companions that continue to be in my life.

Traveling by train is a ton of fun too. It is slow, calm, gentle and a continual sense of meditative peacefulness. Beats airports, airplanes, buses and cars by a long shot. And you get to see the sites without adding traffic or pollution to the communities that you pass through! They still get to live their lives while you can appreciate their environment.

I do not like having external commitments. That is the main function of vacations for me. I meditate when the Higher Self says it is time. I walk when the Higher Self says its time. Eating, sleeping, napping, playing and everything else follow that same blueprint. I enjoy meeting and watching new people in different places. I learn so much about me and us- our similarities and differences. We are such an interesting species. Visiting Temples Churches and Synagogues is my favorite part of most trips. I love learning how others relate to the Divine.

I rarely have the sense of "needing to get away". I like my life and what i do in it. In fact, vacations and weekends are almost identical, just vacations are in a different location without the comfort of sleeping and cooking in my space with my energy surrounding me. I usually miss home after a few days but enjoy the time experiencing different people, energies and environments.

Oscar the Janitor

I started working for the Urban League of Greater Madison in October of 2003. The first project I worked on and the whole four plus years I worker there, was at a middle school here in Madison, Wisconsin.

After being at the school for a little while, I noticed one of the janitors. His name is Oscar and he is a beautiful man from Costa Rico. He has a dark complexion for a Costa Rican with a graying beard and sideburns and short wavy balding hair. He typically wears t-shirts with bright colors. His brown eyes are full and deep. He moved to the states many years ago as an adult. He is friendly in such a warm and genuine manner that it is hard not to want to be around him. To be honest, his smile beams greater than almost anyone I have ever seen. It radiates out to fill up the whole hallway while having casual conversation. He always has a minute to engage in brief interactions; every one of them is filled with all his presence and sweetness.

One day, some of the boys were making fun of Oscar but he paid no mind while they laughed and teased him about “being just a janitor”. One of my co-workers pulled the boys into our room and shut the door. I was new to the scene, but knew what that meant. Arthur and Barry, the two guys I share space with, shut the door when they want to say things that would get them fired with the door open. He explained to the boys how disrespectful and rude it was to speak to a janitor like that. One of the boys made a comment like "Yeah, but he is just a janitor!" Then Arthur shared with the boys (and me) about Oscar:

Oscar had been a high level corporate executive, a real mover and shaker. He owns several expensive cars and retired early after accumulating more wealth than needed. After retiring, he wanted to be around kids but did not want to have the responsibility for them. So, he chose to be a school janitor.

My mentor has an expression that I hold close to me. She talks about "hiding in plain site". By this, she means being out in the world but drawing no special attention to yourself- being present without being noticed. Oscar is a master at hiding in plain site. He cleans the classrooms and bathrooms with such ease and grace. He moves his boom box with him down the halls after-school, while listening to the local Spanish station, La Movida. He never stresses or looks bothered by the mess the kids make. You would never even know he can read or write by how simply he carries himself, forget about being a high powered corporate executive.

I hope sometime in my life I smile once as brightly and beautifully, as he does daily while cleaning school hallways, classrooms and bathrooms. My mentor has recommended to me many times over the last 15+ years that being a night janitor would be an excellent job for me- working with my hands, simple, focused, no drama and do something for people who never know you do it for them. I am still too attached to being important to make that leap yet. It is not that I do not see the benefit for me, I do. It is just the ego is still firmly in control of this man.

The Truth is that his smile has its source in him, not in his moisturizer, shower gel or "age defying cream". Peace, Joy and Love are the original beauty secrets (and much cheaper too). For those who want another more practical resource Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps. Their quote is " Enjoy only 2 cosmetics, enough sleep & Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap to clean body-mind-soul-spirit instantly uniting ONE! All-One!" They are the only the only products I use on a regular basis. It is Oscar's Inner smile that brightens the hallways. It is his willingness to give without need for thanks or recognition that shines for us to see if we look. I have run into Oscar several times out while he is walking his two really cool, unusual dogs, and that same presence and peace is still there.

Happiness and the willingness to share it with others is the secret to staying, feeling and looking young. I am grateful I have had a janitor like Oscar in my life to remind me of how this all works.

My friend Oscar The Janitor.

The Janitor

It was the second time I had visited the Tibetan Buddhist Learning Center, Labsum Shedrup Ling. Leanne and I decided we would spend New Year's together on a retreat at the center. The retreat had a focus on The Buddhist Lineage, neither this, nor the fact that I became infatuated with a twenty-year-old girl at the retreat is important to this particular reflection. Before I dive in, I would like mention that I knew very little about Buddhism when we signed up to participate. Leanne did. I just knew that there was some kind of Inner Connection with Buddhism and me.

The first time I noticed him was during the initial shared meal. He was sitting somewhat distanced from most of the folks there, but I could tell he lived there. He was wearing very plain grey pants and shirt; the kind that most janitors wear. He seemed almost disinterested in the events and happenings around him. It appeared as if he was enjoying his meal, content and grateful just to be there. The first thought that went through my mind while watching him was something like this, "WOW! If this is what their janitors are like, I can't wait to see the monks! I am definitely going to become a Buddhist." He helped clean up as if he does it every day and what he does there. He showed people where to find things and whatever they needed like a typical worker would do at any place else. But there was something very different about this janitor. He was so simple and radiant in his way of being. He smiled simply but beautifully with a sincerity that was rare. I noticed myself staring and observing him beyond what is socially acceptable but I couldn't stop myself. He was special in a way that I had not known previously. I was in awe of the way he carried himself, and the Inner contentment that was his being. I remember thinking to myself, "Where do they find janitors like this in Tibet?" Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, he was an older Tibetan man, possibly in his sixties. He had those facial features that only men and women that have walked this earth for a while and have learned more than the rest of us. The lines on their face seem deeper and richer, as if each one tells a story.

I was talking with someone during another meal the following day and asked about the janitor. The person I was speaking with smiled and informed me, “He is not the janitor.” I immediately felt embarrassed. Then he shared with me, “He is actually one of the men that helped lead The Dalai Llama on his exile from Tibet to India.” I froze and thought, "What an idiot I am!' When I regained my composure, I asked the guy I was conversing with, “Is he a monk?” He smiled again and said something to the effect of, "Yes, he is definitely a monk. He decided after successfully leading the Dalai Llama safely to India; he could now stop wearing his robe and dress like the rest of us."

I did get to meet and have a few conversations with him over the next year or so. He is a very kind and gentle man. To me, he is Buddhism. I say this because he exudes the virtues that I think of when I am thinking about what it is to be a Buddhist practitioner. He is simple, kind and warm. He has no interest in drawing any special attention to himself or his accomplishments. He has genuine Humility but is not self-defeating or a door mat. Honesty and Truth just ooze out of every part of his being and it is all genuine. He is not "acting" like this to show us what these traits are like, he is these traits.

In America, Buddhists often are very intellectual and full of book knowledge on Buddhism and all its Teachings and philosophy. They are ready to engage in intellectual debate, armed with all their book knowledge. To me, this is far from what being a true Buddhist is. Buddhists do not try to show off their knowledge or meditation skills. If for no other reason than the Humility of knowing that we all truly know very little, and what we know today as "Truth" may shift as we develop and evolve. Being able to quote Koans is different than being able to live Koans. Being able to sit for long periods is different than being able to learn for long periods.

For me, I want to evolve enough to be as dull as dishwater. I am far from there and rarely am willing to let go of my desire for attention and recognition. These attachments hold me back, and in turn, hold back those I try to help. A Teacher can only take a student as far as they have gone themselves. I realize that this is not true in academia, but my experience interprets this to be true in spiritual development. Genuine Humility seems to be a lost virtue in our culture these days. It often gets confused as putting yourself down in a self-deprecating manner. Humility is being right size, not big or small, weak nor strong, aggressive nor passive, best nor worst, etc. We are Humble when we allow our True Self to shine through. The moments I experience this kind of Humility are typically in either Genuine Prayer or Genuine service. I heard somebody once say "We should do something good for somebody else every day and not get caught." To me, this is the essence of the janitor. He was a very special somebody but was a total nobody.

Can you imagine what the world would be like if each one of us did one thing every day for somebody else without getting caught? Are you up for the challenge?