There is a simplicity to helping others regenerate their body, their Presence, their total wellness and fruition.
Simplicity is very natural, but not always easy in a world built on perpetual complexity. There are many healing systems that break up the simplicity into various modalities so the mind can see a clear path to travel. But I wonder if there is a common direction each of these modalities is taking us?
When I get to play with horses who have been through a lot, before I ever try to "help" them, I first let them see who I am. I open in every way, just walking around, doing what I do, not focusing on them. I let them see the times I have been less-than-divine with animals if they want to see, I let them see times when I was hard on myself, I let them see whatever they're going to see without hiding or trying to convince them of what they should see in me. When I feel an opening on any level of consciousness, that's when I ask, "How can I best assist?"
Personally, I make myself available to see who they truly are, the light that they are, and I'm open to recognizing their unique tone when I feel it. I personally don't look for wholeness, because doesn't that mean I’m working against a brokenness?
Last year I met a new friend - a horse. His body had been through, well, a lot. He came with all sorts of stories about all he’d been through in 14 years, including which parts of his body would deteriorate at which time of the year, because "it always does". When I handled him, of course I paid attention to where the pain was, put the boots on, listened in every way when he had something to say on any level of consciousness. He had a limited window within which to “speak” because his world had been defined by a certain range of listening. His wonderful people did absolutely everything they could to help him - over and beyond, truly! Yet they were still listening from within a range of awareness defined by their ability to "do something about it."
I listened to all of that, and more. I watched all of the angst the people were in, much harder on themselves than anyone deserves, as they kept up a strong front while the truth was that they felt largely helpless and inadequate. I watched the physical pain, the numbness, the emotional restrictions expressed through his body and in the people. And in watching all of this play out, I also felt the tones and vibrations of these states of being. I felt the sensations. At times, the mental battles going on within the people, their individual back-and-forth negotiations with their education/resources/personal health and contemplations about how right or wrong they have or have not been at which point in time and what is whose fault and what proof do I have that I did the right things and who will notice and how can I make them feel better…that mental torture was literally dizzying. Literally, I felt the sensations of dizzyness. And of course nausea. And of course anguish and sadness.
Now, notice if you are beginning to feel these things, or resist them. Notice if there is part of you that is now searching for a reference point of a particular emotion or sensation. Notice if you are trying to relate to this situation or trying not to tune in, trying not to feel this for any reason at all. Just please notice. Notice if you are feeling "fine", and maybe explore what "fine" actually feels like to your own physical body.
My part was to notice all of the sensations, and then notice my freedom to NOT embody them.
When the rest of the people were not in the barn, the horses and I were no longer standing in the wind of everyone's emotional weather. So, I'd just go stand outside his stall while he was out in the paddock eating hay. I stood there feeling my own heart, not as an exercise, but simply because I can. Because it feels exquisite. I stood there with him many times, being a presence that can recognize the real him. My presence had no intention of “doing something about it.” One human relaxing in that space gives everyone the wide open opportunity to drop right back into their bodies where, even moments before, the whole barn may have been filled with perceptions and emotions of a precarious balance between life and certain death.
Being there with him in this state of being, not thinking about him, not waiting for the sign that now it’s okay to administer a treatment, not performing any exercise, not meditating, just feeling myself, I feel myself expand - there is no intention, no desire. Just me being me. It is very natural, the natural state of human beings to be in expansion from the heart. As I stood there, he felt me through his own higher levels - in other words, the part of him that was not restricted by the tones and frequencies of emotions, physical pain and repetitive history recognized a way to reconnect with life through the physical. And I watched him drop right into his body.
For those who haven't experienced this, it's one of those things that may invite the question, "Would anyone else have known that he dropped in?" And my question is, "Does it matter?"
The ambiance of the barn changed. The air had more space within it. His white suddenly became whiter. His ribs still poked out, but his body was much more full. He was more full of his own tones and vibrations. Everything got softer.
“What did you do, Kerri? Did you do hands-on? Massage? Communication?” All I did was be myself and say hi when he showed up. Then, as natural as a fart and with just as much ceremony, I walked away to pick up some poo.
In dropping in, his tones and frequencies dislodge the debris of emotions and histories. That debris begins to "off-gas", and I can perceive it’s yukkiness, too. Again, as I perceive the debris, my part is to recognize it and not identify with it, not embody it. It is simply information moving through.
His body began regenerating immediately. "He hasn't moved that well in years!” says his trimmer. Nothing had changed in his outward world, in his therapies or treatments. He was simply given the opportunity to come back to his body absent of the ambient emotional patterns.
Animals take this invitation so easily once they notice it. It can be stickier for humans simply because humans tend to identify with emotions, evaluate and question why it happened, should it have happened, should they be worried, will it last…etc. Animals are free from those contemplations. We can be, too. All it takes is noticing when they arise, honoring that they exist and saying, “Ah, got it. Thanks. Move along…”
Like I said…very simple. Not always easy.
Many modalities exist because there are so many ways to assist. Assisting from this awareness, no matter what tools you are using, simply generates a spaciousness that welcomes forth the brightest light of everyone involved, and far, far beyond.