We stood in the main hall. Hundreds of us. Dressed in white. Waiting to see John of God. And right then I remembered the wisdom of the Bagavad Gita and thought, we are not waiting, we are practicing Yoga. The yoga of John of God. The first line filed into the Current room, the room where Medium Joao receives people every Wednesday through Friday. Those who sit in the Current, are in closed eyed meditation for 4-5 hours. As the lined filed in, I thought to myself..."now this is yoga!"
It's Wednesday morning and I am here to ask the entities(those Saints and Doctors from Long ago who Medium Joao incorporates) for help in curing this cancer, asking them the remove this tumor.
I went to Abadainia, Brazil open to all possibility. I left my cynicism, my doubt and my rationalizing brain stateside. Each day I made the ascent from waking up in the world of the practicality brushing teeth, eating food, and waiting with hundreds of strangers, into a realm where time and space don't seem to exist. This is not like some supernatural trance, although it might be, it is just what happens when my attention no longer dwells on habitual activity or expectations and I am happy to sit still with no grasping for sensory stimulation.
Here at the Casa the faith is palpable. Everyone is here to heal. Some are in wheel chairs, or have noticeable ailments. But most seem to look relatively healthy, our imbalances sitting in the far recesses of our mind or body. Our cells crying for help through our nervous system, our emotions, our intuition or perhaps through the lens of a modern medical scanner. Nonetheless, there is harmony and a sense of cohesion. Everyone is there for themselves and yet at the same time ... For each other.
In the 3 days I underwent spirit surgery, sat in the current room, presented notes to the entities of people I know with health challenges, and spent many hours just sitting at the Casa. I experienced transformation. I felt love, the physical feeling of love. It's a deep feeling of awe and gratitude at the life I have, the people I know and the people I don't know. It's a feeling of warmth that courses through my torso leaving peace and contentment in in its wake.
Does this translate into radical remission...or does it really need to. As an old saying goes...trust in God but tie up your camel.