Dr E and I went to the healing circle at Paula's clinic.
It was a family services clinic in Albuquerque. The director showed us around. He told us the history and described the business model.
There are no appointments, it's like urgent care. People drop in and pay $40 to be seen.
Dr E and I participated in a healing circle for substance abusers. It was the best part of my trip to Albuquerque. There was acupuncture, Reiki, and curandissimo at the healing circle.
The clients were six males, ranging in age from perhaps 16 to 60, three healers, and three visitors. The three healers were Paula, another Reiki practitioner (E), and a nurse practitioner, L. First L explained the process: four healing circles and Suboxone therapy. She invited questions and discussion.
Next L distributed cotton balls soaked in rubbing alcohol and instructed us to clean our ears. I swabbed the opening to my ear canal, not properly comprehending the instruction. L tossed a package of needles to each client, then went around and inserted six needles into each pinna. That's the big grooved part of your ear. I didn't get the needles because I was going to share Reiki.
Each client reclined in a comfy lawn chair, white washcloth over eyes, calves elevated on pillows. I started to hear snores as soon as the needles went in. L went to the altar and began to pray. The altar was about waist high: adorned with candles, crystals, herbs, and figurines. There was a glass bowl of water with a stone in the bottom. The candles were in tall glass cylinders, painted with images of the Mother Mary. There was an amethyst crystal and other semi-precious stones, bundles of lavender and sage, and clay religious figures.
As L prayed; E, Paola, and I started to share Reiki. E wore skinny jeans, an argyle vest, and a crocheted beret. Her dark curls cascaded down; her glasses reflected the candlelight. Paola gleamed- in her lime top, peppery dreads, and malachite bracelet.
I centered myself; called on my guides and angels because I really wanted them to share the experience with me; called Mikao Usui, Chujiro Hayashi, and Hawayo Takata; and began. My client was snoring; I prefer them awake so they can participate in the experience, oh well, go with the flow; I started at his head. My hands felt warm, but they didn't throb and pulse with the energy as they usually do. Twenty minutes later I finished and started on the next client. When I finished there was one client left. Paola and E joined me to work on the other visitor, a local mental health counselor.
Everyone got Reiki. Then L came in and did limpias. Limpia is curandissimo. It seemed to be a clearing, prayer, emotional release, and blessing. She did each client, and me too. I cried the whole time she did me. She told me to take care of myself. She swiped us down with sprigs of rosemary. She told us to bury the rosemary. I said, "I will take the rosemary back to Maine and bury it there."
She thought for a moment and said, "No. The rosemary has your spirit in it, and all the things you don't need. You have to bury it here."
So when we left, I buried it in some soft desert sand outside the clinic.
Then Dr E and I went across the street for lunch. The waitress spoke Spanish, but no English. I ordered tacos, "no carne."
"No carne?" she repeated, staring.
I could see she understood my words, but not the concept. I ordered cheese enchiladas instead and they were good.
It was a family services clinic in Albuquerque. The director showed us around. He told us the history and described the business model.
There are no appointments, it's like urgent care. People drop in and pay $40 to be seen.
Dr E and I participated in a healing circle for substance abusers. It was the best part of my trip to Albuquerque. There was acupuncture, Reiki, and curandissimo at the healing circle.
The clients were six males, ranging in age from perhaps 16 to 60, three healers, and three visitors. The three healers were Paula, another Reiki practitioner (E), and a nurse practitioner, L. First L explained the process: four healing circles and Suboxone therapy. She invited questions and discussion.
Next L distributed cotton balls soaked in rubbing alcohol and instructed us to clean our ears. I swabbed the opening to my ear canal, not properly comprehending the instruction. L tossed a package of needles to each client, then went around and inserted six needles into each pinna. That's the big grooved part of your ear. I didn't get the needles because I was going to share Reiki.
Each client reclined in a comfy lawn chair, white washcloth over eyes, calves elevated on pillows. I started to hear snores as soon as the needles went in. L went to the altar and began to pray. The altar was about waist high: adorned with candles, crystals, herbs, and figurines. There was a glass bowl of water with a stone in the bottom. The candles were in tall glass cylinders, painted with images of the Mother Mary. There was an amethyst crystal and other semi-precious stones, bundles of lavender and sage, and clay religious figures.
As L prayed; E, Paola, and I started to share Reiki. E wore skinny jeans, an argyle vest, and a crocheted beret. Her dark curls cascaded down; her glasses reflected the candlelight. Paola gleamed- in her lime top, peppery dreads, and malachite bracelet.
I centered myself; called on my guides and angels because I really wanted them to share the experience with me; called Mikao Usui, Chujiro Hayashi, and Hawayo Takata; and began. My client was snoring; I prefer them awake so they can participate in the experience, oh well, go with the flow; I started at his head. My hands felt warm, but they didn't throb and pulse with the energy as they usually do. Twenty minutes later I finished and started on the next client. When I finished there was one client left. Paola and E joined me to work on the other visitor, a local mental health counselor.
Everyone got Reiki. Then L came in and did limpias. Limpia is curandissimo. It seemed to be a clearing, prayer, emotional release, and blessing. She did each client, and me too. I cried the whole time she did me. She told me to take care of myself. She swiped us down with sprigs of rosemary. She told us to bury the rosemary. I said, "I will take the rosemary back to Maine and bury it there."
She thought for a moment and said, "No. The rosemary has your spirit in it, and all the things you don't need. You have to bury it here."
So when we left, I buried it in some soft desert sand outside the clinic.
Then Dr E and I went across the street for lunch. The waitress spoke Spanish, but no English. I ordered tacos, "no carne."
"No carne?" she repeated, staring.
I could see she understood my words, but not the concept. I ordered cheese enchiladas instead and they were good.
