Ideas, Insights,& Intuitions

When I was 47 I developed a lump in the left breast. It seemed to occur suddenly, in a matter of days, which, I was told, was not characteristic of cancer. Nevertheless, I worried. Whatever it was, it should not be there. Maybe it would go away. I waited, telling no one. But I didn’t wait too long. A close friend noticed that I seemed “down” about something, and so I told him about the lump and we agreed that I should see my doctor and find out what it was.

Ultrasound showed that it was a fluid-filled cyst, which, the doctor said, might go away by itself in time. But he wanted to aspirate some fluid to see if there were abnormal cells present. This he did, and found in the sample a small amount of blood and a few abnormal cells–no more than he would expect to find in an otherwise healthy person. He said there was no need to remove it unless it was uncomfortable. The cyst did heal slowly , but left some scar tissue which could be felt, and a couple of years later, when I was having another procedure, the doctor also removed what was left of the cyst.

However, a few months after the needle aspiration, the right breast developed a hard lump, just as suddenly, and it was 3 to 4 times larger. This time I was confident that it was a cyst, but I did have an ultrasound done. The main question in my mind was, “Why is this happening?” I wondered what I was doing wrong, and how I could stop doing it. I read the usual things about too much of this or that in the diet and tried to make some changes. But then I heard about the Forgiveness Meditation for healing, and I committed myself to regular sessions every day, understanding that it might take weeks to start getting results.

Every day I stood in my bedroom, and starting with the top of my head, I named every part of my body and stated, “My [body part] forgives every person, thing, or situation that has ever hurt me, whether I remember it or not. I also forgive myself for any and everything I have ever done to hurt another or myself.” This brought a flood of warmth and relief over me. I did not have to think about or relive any moments that I wish had not happened, only know in my heart that I forgave and was forgiven for all of it.

I did this for 2 weeks before I could feel that the large cyst had begun to shrink. At that point, it was about half its original size. After a month of meditating, the cyst was gone. Later mammograms did not even show that it had ever been there. I called my doctor’s office and told the nurse that the cyst was gone, and she expressed great surprise. “What did you do?” she asked. I told her that I had used meditation. She said that she had heard of people doing that, but had never heard of it working before.

At one point, it did come to me why these cysts were occurring (it was a displaced emotional need), and once I realized it––and understood, I knew that it would never happen again. And it has not.

Can the focussed visualization of positive energy protect the entire coastline of a continent from the devastation of a vicious hurricane? Thousands of people not only believe that it can, but know that it did. I live in Texas and have belonged to a Unity church for more than 20 years. We believe in the power of positive energy.

Several years ago, a dangerous hurricane was headed straight for the southern part of the US east coast. Its projected path would bring it across the southern states, and possibly into eastern Texas, before turning north again.  A small group of us in Unity and similar New Thought churches began to visualize positive energy forming a shield over the entire east coast and pushing the hurricane away. Day after day, the storm continued along its projected path, and as it approached, more people joined in the visualization. We began to hear news reports of thousands of people all along the coastline sending positive energy in focussed, coordinated effort. And the hurricane began to slow down. Just offshore, it almost stopped, began to wobble in its course, and finally made a 90° turn and moved north parallel to the coastline. It wobbled again over the ocean for days. When it made landfall, it had weakened to the force of a severe thunderstorm.

I was 17, I think. The weather was warm and I was wearing shorts, so it must have been summer vacation. My mother was in the house reading or maybe sewing. I went outside and just sat in the small patch of green we had for a yard, contemplating life as I had always loved to do, enjoying my own company.

I had no idea where my life was going, but it was time for it to start going somewhere. I couldn’t see anything out there for me to hold onto or give me some sense of direction. My few friends had their own plans which did not include me. And then I stopped thinking and let myself be present. It was a quiet moment of stillness at the center of a chaotic world, and in it I became aware of a profound concept: security comes from within.

I knew in some nebulous, untried way, that everything would work out, not because of what other people thought of me, but because of what I believed about myself and my abilities. (And that, I learned throughout my life, could be both help and hindrance.)

When I was a senior in high school, I needed a math course to graduate, so I tried taking Plane Geometry–again. I had registered for the course as a sophomore, but after 2 weeks, I had found that I was totally lost. I could not understand the most basic axioms and theorems. So to avoid failing, I had dropped the course and taken Spanish.

This time, I was doing slightly better, and thought I might pass. Then, a few weeks into the semester, the nice old fellow who was teaching the class died suddenly of a heart attack. We got a substitute for a while, and then one day I walked in  and there was a young man behind the desk who was fresh out of college. He looked a little like Noah Wyle. As I passed his desk, he looked at me, and there was an instant connection.

Nothing ever happened between us, though my girlfriend and I often fantasized about him. He stuck to the rules and did not fraternize with us, though he was pleasant enough when we did get to talk. But I wanted to please him with my work in class, so I studied ahead in the book. I chose difficult proofs to demonstrate at the blackboard. And during one class, I had the answer (in the form of a question) before he could issue the challenge. I even made 100 on the final exam!

He thought I was gifted. He brought me a Physics textbook to read when I had nothing to do during a study period he had given the class. The truth was that I had more mental energy and clarity than I had ever felt before regarding math and science because I had a great desire to learn it–to impress him. In the process I was actually learning to understand the subject and enjoy the clean logic of it.

The only other achievement I can compare it to is the 3 months I spent learning to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata on the piano. It is written in the key of C-sharp Minor, and it doesn’t get more difficult than that. But I wanted so badly to play it that I somehow read the music until I had the finger positions and the sound of it memorized, and I could play the piece, with feeling. After that, the music score became difficult to read again.

I know now that if I could get excited about calculating the area under an arched bridge, or compound interest on a savings account, I could learn to do it; I could open the door and let the new ideas in. But I am not at all excited by those tasks, so I cannot force the knowledge into my head no matter how hard I try.