Snow Pictures

by Kevin Deeny

  “They may well be emphatic, but in actuality, they healed themselves, but this serves to illustrate an underlying problem; even when a person is successful in affecting their own health, they doubt themselves. This is one of the current challenges: to help people help themselves. That’s why I and others are spending the time to pass this information on to as many people who are interested.”

  “Don’t you think there are dangers for people who think they can heal themselves of serious diseases and refuse to see a doctor? Wasn’t there an account a few years ago of a family who prayed for healing and refused to take their child for cancer treatments?”

  “I do remember the case, and it’s one of the reasons why I emphasized earlier that this is not an either/or situation to consider either conventional medicine or self-healing. I think it is an “and” situation where someone could gain all the benefits of both.”

  “It’s also important to recognize limits to our understanding of this process, which is why we are working hard to promote an interest in research. As an example, even if I am successful at reducing my own pain after surgery, or eliminating headaches, I still get colds and the flu, I’ve broken bones in accidents, I need glasses to read, and I will die in the normal course. It’s also important to point out that I will see a doctor for medical ailments and generally take the medications they prescribe.

  “Generally….?

  “I seldom take pain meds; usually an aspirin or two is enough for me.”

  “There is growing interest in the area that is centered in the farming community. Why do you think that is?”

  “Many of the farm workers are among the class of the working poor. They are often underinsured or have no insurance at all. Their contact with medical services is often limited to ER visits. General ongoing care for them and their children is limited. They are interested in anything that is helpful for their families, so anything they can do to help themselves is a real benefit to them.”

  “I’ve met with Josh and Sarah Collins, and they told me about Josh’s accident a few years ago. He has a nasty scar but appears to have recovered the full use of his arm. He credits you with saving his arm and from Sarah’s account, it appears that something more than “focused intention” was involved. Can you describe what you did for Josh?”

  “Sure, but I think my butt’s gone numb from sitting here so long. It’s stopped raining. Why don’t we get a couple of coffees to go and stretch our legs? We can walk and talk.”

  With coffee cups in hand, they ambled toward campus and Marcus continued the discussion.

  “Again, as a young man, I noticed that my hands would get pretty warm when I focused my intention as I described earlier. Later I came to realize that energy must be involved because it takes energy to warm something. I doubted myself and thought that this was just a sensation rather than actual warming. When my sister got sick, and I placed my hands on her while I focused, she also felt the heat in my hands, and she always felt a little better afterward. I was curious about this and looked into it, and it seems to be similar to what Reiki practitioners describe as they project energy. Naturally, I was intrigued and kept practicing making my hands warm. Although I’ve looked into it, I haven’t yet been able to measure what form of energy is involved. Others are out there in the world are working on it, but I haven’t seen anything reliable and verifiable show up yet.”

  “I haven’t forgotten that you asked about Josh, this is just one of those long-winded answers. When Josh was injured, it took some time to free him from the machine and afterward, while we waited for help, he started slipping into shock, so I did what I could and directed as much energy to him as I could, and he stabilized. After that, he used his own focused intention, with a little help from Sarah, and his body managed itself until help arrived to transport him to the trauma center.”

  “I’ve spoken to Josh’s doctor, and she claims that his recovery is remarkable.”

  “Which is a wonderful thing. Josh continues to use focused intention to help with his own recovery and has become quite good at it. Both he and Sarah have taught the technique to many others.”

  Carl looked away as if he was turning something over in his mind and absently flipped the pages of his notebook back and forth until he asked, “All of this is kind of out there. How would you explain this to people who can’t bring themselves to believe it?”

  “I can’t really get involved with someone else’s belief, only my own. I can only advise someone to listen to your own body and believe what it has to say.”

  Carl flipped through his notebook but had reached the end of his questions. He had something on his mind but didn’t bring it up, because it was a personal issue and he felt uneasy crossing the line as an objective reporter. However, Marcus had tuned into his personal turmoil from the beginning when they first met in Robert’s office a week ago. He decided to cross over the line himself.

  “Carl, if I may ask, where did you serve?” Marcus asked as he pointed to his field jacket.

  Carl was a little surprised by the question, but answered, “I was in Afghanistan; mainly in Kandahar Province.”

  “I never served Carl so I can’t say that I understand your experience, but I truly appreciate your service.”

  “Thank-you,” he said as he looked away to the horizon recalling moments of his time in Afghanistan.

  Marcus noticed that his question seemed to subdue Carl who now seemed lost in his thoughts. Marcus intruded into his contemplation, “Carl, we’ve been talking in the abstract about these things. Why don’t I show you how it’s done?”

  Carl hesitated and replied, “I’m not sure I have the time to drive anywhere. I have to get back to the paper soon and meet with my editor.”

  “There is no need to go anywhere; remember this is no more complicated than taking a few quiet moments to think and where better than on a college campus?” Marcus gestured to a bench a few yards away and said, “This will do. Do you want to try?”

  Carl shrugged and nodded which Marcus took as a “yes.” He pointed to the bench, and they sat while Marcus advised; “I’ll follow the steps we talked about earlier and then I’ll see if I can send some energy your way. Are you ready?”

  Carl looked a little uncomfortable, but answered, “Yes.”

  “Ok, Carl. Settle in and relax. Turn a little and let the sun warm you while we try this. It should only take a few minutes.”

  Carl turned to capture the full exposure of the sun, un-bunched his shoulders and wiggled his fingers as he settled into a relaxed sitting position on the bench. Marcus sat next to him and began.

  “Chose a safe and comforting place in your mind. If you don’t have one in particular in mind, let me know, and I’ll try and come up with one for you.”

  Carl closed his eyes and thought, but soon began to fidget. He opened his eyes, “I’ve got nothing.”

  Marcus thought a moment and then replied “Ok. Have you been to Hawk Mountain?”

  Carl answered, “Sure, but it’s been a while.”

  “Great. Now relax again and close your eyes. I want you to take a leisurely hike up the trail on a beautiful fall day. You’ll see the River of Rocks on your right down in the valley as you come to the South Lookout. The whole valley is alive with the color of the changing leaves. Pause there and watch the hawks for a while before you resume your hike.” Marcus paused to allow Carl to visualize his progress and then resumed, “When you get to the North Lookout, choose a boulder to sit on and feel the sun on your face. Watch the hawks as they circle above and below in the valley.” He again allowed some time before continuing.

  “Become aware of your body while you’re sitting there with the sun on your face and feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. It will feel faint at first and strengthen into a familiar rhythm.”

  Marcus watched as the rhythm of his breathing changed as Carl focused on his heartbeat and
he knew that he had arrived.

  “With each breath that you take, see golden light entering your lungs and with each beat of your heart, see that golden energy distributed further and further throughout your body. As the golden color moves through, watch it re-energize your body and your mind.”

  Marcus paused now and allowed him to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and he then reached over and took his right hand, as if he was shaking it, and place his other hand on Carl’s forearm. Marcus paused while he came to the same rhythm and smiled as he sensed the energy begin to flow through him to Carl. Marcus watched silently and respectfully as Carl cried; his tears passed unheeded until eventually, Marcus witnessed his expression change from anguish to subtle, peaceful contentment. He felt the flow of energy wane, and Marcus removed his hands and sat quietly. When he felt Carl begin to stir, he rose and walked to look at one of the campus sports fields in the near distance while Carl processed the after-effects of his experience.

  Carl joined him a few minutes later and seemed quiet and thoughtful. Marcus initiated a discussion.

  “Most of our conversations today focused on healing the body, but an equally difficult challenge is to heal the mind – or the spirit as some would put it. As a society, we are pretty good at putting bodies back together, but the mind or spirit remains difficult. I believed it would be helpful for you to know the process we’ve been talking about also seems to help with that too.”

  Carl’s demeanor had changed since he left the bench. He looked more deeply at Marcus. “I don’t understand what just happened there, but I haven’t felt this much at peace with myself in a long time.”

  Marcus smiled knowingly and said, “Enjoy it Carl; relish it, swim in it, wrap it around you, breath it. Peace is meant for all of us.”

  “I don’t know how I could thank you; I can’t even describe how I feel.”

  “There is a way to thank me Carl; pass it on. There are many of your brothers and sisters out there who need peace.”

  “How could I ever do what you’ve just done for me?”

  “Ah, Carl, you missed the point of our entire conversation; we can all do this. I’m just an average guy like you who happened to be curious. You are no different than me; you can do this, for yourself and others.”

  Carl thought for a moment and reached into his field jacket for his notebook and flipped idly though it. He asked, “I may have follow-up questions. Do you mind if I contact you again?”

  Marcus reached out and shook his hand. “Not at all Carl. Anytime you have a question, just call.”

  They parted company; Carl wanted to linger a bit longer while he continued to process his feelings. Marcus walked back through campus to find his Jeep parked in the café lot. As he started toward home, he wondered if he should tell Rosalind about the apple pie. “Ah hell,” he said to himself, “she’s going to know anyway; I’m a terrible liar.”

  Chapter 37

  The Chapel

  People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for. -Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

  It had been a long day already as he drove toward the community center for the monthly meeting of the Rosewood senior citizen’s group. This was one of several groups that expressed interest in knowing more about focused intention, and he was stopping by as a guest speaker.

  His day started early with a drive over the mountain to visit the Knoff Farm. Although there was no work being done in the fields, there was always a lot of work to do in the winter to plan for the next season, do equipment maintenance, select and order seed and begin the process of closing the books on the year while looking ahead to the next. Marcus reviewed the growing plan with the owners, shared technical information about non-chemical pest control approaches and discussed seed selection options before heading to the next farm. He had three farms to visit by the end of the day, and he found that he was running ahead of schedule when he turned toward home with the planned stop at the community center along the way. As he drove, he wondered how long he could keep up this pace; it had been over eight years since the series of Carl’s articles piqued the interest of the public and they had all been busy trying to balance their normal lives with the demands of people who were interested in knowing more. The articles had been positive and unknown to any of them at the time, Carl’s aunt had been one of the patients at the clinic who Marcus had taught to use focused intention and had given her a boost of energy. It was her experience that started Carl down his path.

  Carl went on to write two books; the first about his experience in Afghanistan and his struggle with PTSD and the second about others in all services who had different stories, but similar struggles. His work was well received, and he kept in touch with Marcus throughout the years. Robert had gravitated toward work with veterans, and he and Carl often worked together on outreach projects.

  As he drove, Marcus began to reminisce about the trajectory of his life and laughed out loud when, for no particular reason, he recalled his naked run from the police so many years ago after midnight swimming in the Levittown pool. It was an odd thought for a winter day like today. The day had turned grey with the prospect of snow, and he noticed the streaks of brine solution on the road surface that had been applied in advance of the coming storm.

  He was about 5 miles from his destination at the community center when he came around a bend and noticed a small church on the left that looked more like a chapel; it was relatively small, of wood and clapboard construction, with the requisite belfry and cross spire. It reminded him of the many small churches he had seen throughout New England. He didn’t see any signage that announced with which denomination it was associated.

  He was curious, and although he didn’t have a camera with him, he was already thinking of angles he would use to photograph it. Lights were on inside the church, and since he had some time to spare, he thought he would take the occasion to see if it was open and check out the interior. He parked in the empty lot and approached the front door, already appreciating the oak-paneled door and the wrought iron hardware. The front steps were well worn which spoke of many years and many soles that had passed through this door.

  His first glimpse of the interior was exactly what he expected it to be; parallel columns transited the church front to back and pews were arranged in long rows broken only by the center aisle and the supporting columns. The altar was centered at the far end with a small pulpit to the left. Pendant lights: affixed to cross beams, illuminated the space. It was chilly inside. What struck Marcus almost immediately was the smell of pine oil, and he instantly thought, “This must be a Catholic church.” Every Catholic church or school he had been in smelled of pine oil.

  He slipped into a pew a few rows from the back, took a deep breath and reveled in the solitude. He had a few questions for God today, not that he expected answers, but at least he could get it on the record. Before he got to his list, Marcus found himself thinking again about his early life, and he felt a deep sadness for the little boy he saw there. He remembered how he felt like an afterthought that never penetrated his parent’s personal turmoil. Yet somehow, Marcus had found strength of will and clarity. Along the way, he gave up religion; it kept getting in the way between him and God.

  He thought about his father and how he spent his youth trying not to be like him and as an adult admiring the courage of his journey to sobriety. He has long known and been thankful that the sadness of his youth was washed away by the joy that Rosalind brought to his life. Surprisingly, he felt fortunate to have experienced the sadness, because it allowed him to recognize the joy.

  He thought back over the last several years since Carl’s series was published and the nearly overwhelming public response. Their informal group took turns meeting in living rooms and kitchens until Robert and Sarah took the lead to fundraise and construct a small building to serve their needs. They helped each other master the techniques that Marcus used and develo
ped nuances and refinements. Robert’s proficiency in transferring energy far exceeded all others except for his daughter Emily who seemed to do so effortlessly. And through all of the education and outreach, Rosalind was fierce in her oversight and worked tirelessly to engage medical colleagues into the process. Marcus was amazed at how much she became more like Bea over the years, and her affection for Emily was much like Bea’s affection was for Rosalind. “I wonder if she sees that,” Marcus thought to himself. As he reflected, he now understood that the struggle of one little boy translated into a life’s work. “Perhaps that was its purpose.” he thought.

  A noise at the altar caught his attention, and he watched as an elderly nun slowly waddled across from a side door behind the altar and up the center aisle. She looked up and saw Marcus sitting in the pew, and that seemed to surprise her. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said. “I’m not used to seeing anyone when I come to lock up.”

  “I didn’t mean to startle you Sister, I just stopped in for a quiet moment. I was surprised when I saw this church,” he said as his eyes roamed around the space; “I must have passed this way fifty times and never noticed it before.”

  She sighed and said, “That’s always been our problem here, no one notices.” She reached for the back of the pew for support and noticed his concern. “It’s just a bad hip. I’m afraid I’ve put far too many miles on it than it was intended for.”

  “Can I help you, Sister?”

  “Oh no thank-you son, I get by quite well, just a little awkwardly.”

  Marcus rose from the pew and said, “I should be going, and I don’t want to hold you up, Sister.”

  She replied, “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

  “Thank-you Sister, but I’m heading over to the community center for a meeting, and I should be going anyway. And thank-you for this,” he said as he looked around again. “It’s very peaceful and comforting here.”