Expect the Unexpected
The first time it happened, I was lying face-up on the massage table, receiving a Reiki treatment. Even though we'd come to expect the unexpected in our shared sessions, this took the metaphorical cake.
Always An Adventure
It was June 10, 2015, and we - my friend, soul sister and fellow energy healer Tina and I - gathered for our monthly Reiki exchange at her home. After our usual pre-exchange coffee and conversation, we ascended to the "angel room," as we fondly call it, and prepared for our next adventure.
We'd been gathering for these exchanges each month for about eight months in a row. Each exchange manifested into something "more," which is what led us to expect the unexpected in our sessions to begin with.
By "more," I mean:
shared visions between us while giving and receiving
sessions seemingly synchronized with whatever music we "randomly" chose to play
eclectic combinations of essential oils put to use (up to eight at a time)
heightened energy of both the spiritual (ancestors, angels) and elemental (wind, etc.) forms
It had come to a point that we needed to allow time for a sort of debriefing after each of our individual sessions so we wouldn't forget all that happened. And I confess to feeling a bit of an ego pinch around not journaling everything we experienced.
At any rate, in the way of adventure and expect the unexpected, our eager-curiosity pumps were sufficiently primed on that Wednesday nearly two and one-half years ago. Little did we know, those pumps were about to be tested beyond anything we could have imagined.
What's Happening?
Tina received first. It was a bit of a joke between us that she would go first so she'd be prepared to work on me. We didn't know why and we didn't ask why it happened to be that way. It was just what we noticed and felt, and so fell into as a matter of course. A few times, she's felt compelled to wear rubber-soled shoes for extra grounding. :-)
Casting back to that day, the one thing that stands out is how much more tangible the images that manifested in my head were as I worked on her. It was like watching a movie, except being on the set watching it and also being in it.
There was a lot of action and an up-close-and-personal feeling to what I witnessed and what we learned, during Tina's debriefing, she witnessed, too. It was surreal-ly real; reality amplified in an IMAX sort of way.
When it was my turn, I laid down on the table and settled in for the ride. The session started in a fairly typical fashion, with a feeling of suspension and a whole lot going on visually through my third eye as Tina's hands hovered around my head.
She worked her way down the left side of my body, and then up the right side of my body. She was by my right shoulder and I was happily buzzing (something also fairly typical) and wonderfully relaxed. I felt glued to the table - something both of us were familiar with feeling by the end of our sessions - and didn't mind a bit.
Except, not all of me was glued to the table this time, because my right arm raised itself off the table of its own volition.
"Tina? What's happening? Are you moving my arm?"
No Strings
Tina confirmed she wasn't moving my arm, and as it oh-so-slowly inched its way up over my chest and head, our dialogue continued.
I wish I could remember and recount our entire conversation at that point, because I'm sure it was hilarious. How could it not be? Well, I guess it could have been otherwise.
We could have freaked out, and perhaps understandably. Thank goodness, neither Tina nor I are the freak-out sort. It's what permitted us to enter incredulous witness mode instead.
It feels important to emphasize the importance of the witness-mode piece here.
While it was my own arm that was moving, I wasn't activating my muscles. It was as though I was a puppet with no strings. That's what permitted me to witness what was happening to me as an observer rather than a participant.
My left arm joined the party. By the time it felt like maybe my arms were done doing whatever they were doing, they were hyper-extended back and over my head, palms together. The positioning was effortless in the way it was achieved.
If I'd been standing, from the side you would have seen my arms extended above my head, and then back several inches, with prayer hands.
Tina couldn't believe it because, as the wife of a chiropractor, she has a strong understanding of physical abilities and limitations. For me to do it on my own isn't possible. My shoulders don't have the rotation and extension for it. (I just tried it. Hard no.)
Believe it or not, there I was doing something that was otherwise impossible. And I felt no physical strain at all while doing it. The icing on that particular cake came when my legs moved and brought my toes together in a reflection of the prayer hands.
How Much Time? And Next Time
There was no sense of time as this happened. I'm pretty sure Tina and I were in a mild state of shock. And why wouldn’t we be? I mean, we weren't expecting the "expect the unexpected" to be quite so unexpected.
As we continued our witnessing, the movement unraveled, so to speak. First, my legs relaxed back to their former positions. Then, my arms, one at a time, returned to their former positions at my side.
I can guess that the supernatural movement, from start to finish, lasted about 20 minutes. Not that it matters, except... Consider how slowly - oh, so slowly - the movement was to fill that time frame.
As supernatural as the movement was, it also was unnaturally slow. The word "careful" comes to mind, followed by "testing." And that makes a whole lot of sense from this current perspective.
Once we were sure whatever happened was complete, and once I felt confident I could stand up on my own, we descended to the kitchen. There, we ate our lunch and talked over the incident.
Neither of us had any experience with anything of its nature, either personally or professionally. There was no frame of reference for us to go by; no context or foundation to frame or uphold it.
What we did know was, we weren't fearful. Neither of us sensed any danger or animosity or aggression from the energy that literally moved me. Instead, we felt serene and watchful; wondrously peaceful and present.
And we felt curious and expectant, certain there would be a next time. (A vast understatement, as things happened.)
Read part two of this experience here: Pregnant Pause
