Blog – Part 2 – How did A Nice Southern Girl Like Me Come to Be a Healer?



Once I was at the Omega Institute and the Barbara Brennan Hands of Light workshop began, my doubt raised its fierce head. My doubt was like a dog on a bone and did not want to let go! I was furious with myself for having spent my time and energy to come to this “stupid!” workshop! I was in such resistance; I felt such fear, although I did not know it at the time. Inside of me, some part of me knew that my world was about to change in a dramatic and powerful way and every other part of me was screaming “Noooo!” I was having such an internal struggle and all I knew to do was to blame something/anything on the outside; hence, all the voices inside carrying on about the stupid, useless workshop!

Then things started to shift just a little bit. We were led into an exercise to experience “the energy field”. We were guided to close our eyes and drop, bit by bit, into our partner’s energy field and physical body and to jot down, on a piece of paper, any images, pictures, sounds that we might perceive as we did this. (Can you hear my resistance getting louder?)

Here were the beginning instructions:

“Place your hand on your partner’s thigh and drop your energy hand…”

(Whoa, stop right there! What in the world is “an energy hand”? Yeah, right! OK, Laurie, quiet down a bit and just see if you can suspend judgment and give this a try.)

“Drop your energy hand into your partner’s thigh”

More resistance until I took a deep breath and was, finally, able to surrender into the experience and just act as if this might be “real”. So I brought my awareness to my hand and felt –

The skin. (“Obviously,” said my resistance.)



But my “energy hand” also seemed to begin to connect with something energetic.

(Really?? Breathe, Laurie, breathe.)

And it started to get interesting as I energetically dropped under the skin. Here is what I perceived, layer by layer – strange images that I saw or felt with my “energy hand”:

Yes, obviously, the skin.

And then what looked like, and felt like, an ice skating rink. It was shiny and smooth. There was a kind of “whoosh” of energy, like the sound and energy of skates zipping over the ice.

A layer that looked like white bread soaked in milk.

Another ice skating rink.

Layers of striation, criss-crossing over each other.

An image of a grey-white coral sort of structure that was gently pulsing

Ahhhh, and deep in the center of my partner’s thigh was a beautiful, luminous, dark crimson viscosity that was filled with octagonal shaped structures that were shimmering and shifting around in in this radiant viscous fluid.

So, sounds pretty weird, right?

After we completed the exercise, Barbara asked for a volunteer (one who had never taken anatomy and physiology) to come up on stage and draw on the white board what they had perceived.

I raised my hand enthusiastically, determined still to prove that this was all made up and imaginary! And as the Universe would have it, Barbara called on me.

As I drew the images on the board, Barbara was asking me questions about the color, textures, and sounds of each layer. I answered as if I knew exactly what I was talking about (at the same time, I was doubting every word of it).

After I finished my drawing, Barbara asked for someone in the audience, who knew anatomy and physiology, to tell us what they thought about my drawing.

(“At last, the moment of truth!” said my resistance.)

The woman in the audience, a nurse, stood up and said, “Laurie got every single layer except the periosteum around the bone!”

At this point, my knees began to shake! Could this possibly be true? Was it really possible that, through our hands, we can feel and “see” what is in the physical body? And, was it possible to actually affect change in the physical body? Was it possible to “heal” through the human energy field?

All I knew was that I had to learn more. Indeed, my blood was flowing in the right direction! So, off I went to the Barbara Brennan School of Healing to begin my journey toward becoming a healer.

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