Last week, a middle-aged man in Shela village passed away – suddenly, just after finishing his evening meal. One minute he was eating, and the next he was dead. He left a wife and two young children behind.
His sister-in-law came to see me today, saying that she had not been eating for three days, and she was feeling angry, sad and like she was exploding inside – all at the same time – but nothing was coming out. She was too scared to be home alone and felt very weak when she was walking, like she was going to fall over. A hospital doctor had prescribed her sleeping tablets yesterday, but all her problems started again when she woke up. She thought she might need more pills.
Unsurprisingly, I recognise the signs of acute grief when I see them. She did not actually tell me about her brother-in-law’s passing until I asked her what was going on at home. She had not realised there might be a connection between that and her symptoms.
She wanted to know if it was normal to feel this way after a bereavement, and I explained how grief works: differently for everyone, and like a crazy rollercoaster up and down, from frenzied activity to despondent despair, from feelings of powerlessness to thinking one can bargain with God, with lashings of rage and black humour in between. That’s my abridged version of the ‘Seven Stages of Grief’.
While I listened to her talking, as she made sense of my words with examples from her own experience, I felt waves of compassion for her, coming from the place of “Yes, I know what that’s like… I am so sorry you find yourself there, I wish I could take it away, but I can’t… But I also know it will change.”
Then, instead of offering medicines or any more mental input, I asked her to lie down on the treatment couch. I could feel the shakiness in her system, the overload and her barely clinging on. I said I would like to do a “nervous system rebalancing treatment” (aka. energy healing) and asked if it would be alright if I put my hands on a couple of places on her burka-clad body. She consented, grateful for any sort of help I could offer.
After 10 minutes of gentle energy healing, during which she closed her eyes several times, she happily exclaimed “It’s a miracle! I feel so calm and relaxed!” I told her that she was welcome to return any time – to talk, or to have more “nervous system rebalancing”…
Hamisi the gardener came and told me later that, on the way out, this patient of mine had said she was going to recommend all her friends come for appointments with me. The short session had made an impression!
Energy healing in Lamu – yep, with the right patient, it’s better than any pill!
I send gratitude to all those who did energy healing with me in the weeks and months after Özge’s passing, which showed me exactly how gently life-affirming it can be, when the mind cannot take another word and the body cannot take another step. Thank you.
