Love Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me–What a fantastic title! Explore the world of faith healing with Lyndi Alexandar!
Is there true medicine in healing with your mind?
by Lyndi Alexander
A dozen or more years ago, I took a class with a healer in Erie, Pennsylvania. I’d never put much stock in “laying on of hands” or “healing using the power of the heart;” I’d always been somewhat of a logical, believing-in-what-I-could-see person. But you know how it is when your friends all go, and they want you to go, and you want to do something edgy…
So I did.
During the process of the following three months, I saw my first Aura, a beautiful aqua halo around one of the other students. I experienced a rush of warmth connecting with the heart of another student as we sat face to face, hands on each other’s chests. We chanted with music, filling an average sized room with the sensation of power. It was something amazing.
But at the same time, I could see how the same sensations could, for want of a better word, turn to the dark side.
Much depended on the intent of those who understood and knew how to channel whatever power was generated.
Thinking on this during those late-night hours when one’s brain grabs hold of either the most ridiculous or the most esoteric questions and gnaws them to death, the first lines of this story were born.
Many of us with chronic pain seek out treatments, sometimes in desperation, I readily admit that there are days when, if someone told me that eating fresh frog’s eyes would cure the pain, I’d be the first one in line. When you’ve tried so many other things… *shrug* You just get to a point.
Sara Woods gets to that point in this story. She tries the different treatments at the Goldstone Clinic, hoping to rid herself of the pain she suffers from an old auto accident. After all, she’s young and otherwise healthy—why not move forward without this pain?
What she doesn’t realize is that she’s fallen into a crack between those who want to use their healing powers for good and those who have fully entered the dark side.
Fortunately, she and one of the good doctors join to help Sara stay safe, when other young women have died. Like my experience at the healing class, Sara learns to open herself to what is inside her and explore what hidden gifts she may have. A secret from her past bursts into fruition.
I, however, was not so fortunate. But that’s all right. I got this story. And its lessons are there in black and white, for anyone to see.
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In her mad rush to escape a failed marriage, Sara Woods takes the first job available and lands in the middle of a mystery. Her first assignment as a news reporter for the Ralston Courier is the investigation of a string of deaths, all young women, all her age.
She becomes a patient at the Goldstone Clinic, a local mecca of healing, to deal with chronic pain from her past. But all is not as it seems at the Goldstone, its doctors and nurses are all the picture of perfect beauty and health. Patients at the clinic first seem to get better, then they deteriorate. Sara enlists the help of Dr. Rick Paulsen, who teaches her how to access her internal power, skills she never knew she had, revealing secrets from her past. Police officer Brendon Zale also takes an interest in Sara, but he acts like a stalker, watching her every move, and he won’t leave her alone.
As she digs deeper into the story, and more young women die without explanation, she tries to choose allies wisely, but not till the last confrontation does she discover the identity of her true enemy.
By then, it’s too late.
I took a deep breath, feeling my heart skip around a bit. As much as I wanted this, some part of me that was still sane wanted to be as far away from it as possible. But this wasn’t a matter that required thought. This path was fueled by feeling. I’d have to delve into new territory to empower myself sufficiently to challenge Dr. Ruprei.
Rick took a deep breath and released it, all the while looking into my eyes. “You’re right. Your inner strength will be the key, and you can only reach that by letting your heart fill with your essence.” At my surprised look, he smiled. “Sometimes you think so intensely, it’s like you set the words into my mind.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, embarrassed.
“Don’t be.” His boyish grin was designed, I was sure, to set me at ease. “Sara, I can sense that you know where we must go. You must access your core, open it to the outside. I’m ready to do some hard work with you. I think it will be hard, too.” The smile faded. “First you must set aside your logical mind. It’s not what you’re used to doing. What you do every day involves using that not inconsequential mind, and putting your feelings aside. This work is the opposite.” He took my hands, held them, palms up, rubbing his thumbs into the center of my palms. The sensation ran up my arm into my shoulder. “You have to let yourself feel. Every single moment. Be fully present in each moment. Concentrate on what’s happening around you. There will be no time for distraction when your battle comes.”
I listened carefully, his words ringing true. “I don’t intend to give her a chance to suck me dry again.”
“I’m not sure your conscious intent has anything to do with it,” he said. A dark thread in his voice sent a shiver up my spine. “I know your enemy. I can help you become strong enough to fight what will come —what is inevitable.” His eyes seemed to darken as he spoke. “Do you believe that?”
I nodded, unable to speak at the tautness of his voice. I realized Rick was frightened, too. What experience did he have with Francesca Ruprei that would bring him to such a level? He got up a moment and took a vanilla-scented candle from the counter in the kitchen and turned off the fan. He set the candle behind the crystal and lit it. “Breathe,” he said. “Relax and breathe.” As had happened before, after awhile, our rate of breathing gradually became synchronized, creating a harmony, a haven of well-being. We continued to build that safe space with our breath and our intent.
After several minutes, Rick spoke softly, directing me again in exercises to detect and accept the expanse of my energy field. I became aware of aspects of myself I usually ignored, holding onto that heightened state, working at it.. Mindful of his reminder to release, release, release, I felt myself go a little deeper this time into relaxation. In a voice soft as a feather’s touch, Rick said, “Good. Now, let’s expand ourselves into this space. The whole room. The crystal will help us do that. Open your eyes and focus on the crystal, on its energy.” We both looked at the crystal, the candlelight shooting translucent arrows of rainbow colors through it. I felt a warmth run over my skin. My sense of well-being rose as the seconds passed. I felt a little tingle even in the pendant hanging around my neck.
“You can resist, Sara. Feel the warm light. Feel the safety in this room. You can overcome that compulsion. They have learned they can use your energy to stimulate your will. They want to subjugate it to their needs. Resist.”
Meet Lyndi Alexander
Lyndi Alexander always dreamed of faraway worlds and interesting alien contacts. She lives as a post-modern hippie in Asheville, North Carolina, a single mother of her last child of seven, a daughter on the autism spectrum, finding that every day feels a lot like first contact with a new species.