Dialing for Angels
by Jill Kramer
Was it anger that caused an ugly growth to
take up residence on my eyelid? At my wits'
end, I decided to talk to a spiritual healer.
About four years ago I let anger consume me. It was a
seething, festering anger directed toward a woman who had
dome me wrong. The situation was complex, laced with
gossip, lying and betrayal. Looking back, I realize that the
events weren't that deserving of rage, but resentful
thoughts swirled through my head all day long. I couldn't
stand how I felt, but neither could I shake the negativity.
One morning about two weeks after my anger first surfaced, I was in my car leaving for work,
silently cursing the woman I was angry with. I pulled out of my parking space and smashed
my side-view mirror on a pole. It cost me $280 to replace.
During the same week, I developed a hard, round lump on my left eyelid. It was whitish-red and about the size of a pea, a real eyesore. Having a healthy amount of vanity, I was appalled by it, but I am sure that even if I saw this lump on someone else's eyelid, I would've thought it disturbing.
Although the lump didn't affect my vision, I started wearing
glasses all the time instead of contact lenses. I stopped
wearing eye makeup because I thought that would attract
attention. When people talked to me and looked me in the
eye (as people do when they talk to you), I was certain they
were really staring at my lump. Sleep offered little escape; I started having dreams in which children would point and
laugh at my eye. I couldn't stop these feelings because my
growth had become an obsession of sorts. Even my female
friends who sympathized with my anguish failed to comfort
I pored over medical books and diagnosed my bump as a
chalazion, a painless swelling on the edge of the eyelid
caused by a blocked lubrication gland. I read that small
chalazions often disappear on their own within several
weeks, larger ones do not. Then I turned to alternative
healing books, a couple of which pointed to a possible cause
for my growth; unresolved, unreleased anger. I decided to
ignore the possibility that my emotions had triggered my
condition, even though I work for a publisher whose many
books on body-mind healing offer impressive evidence that
the mind has a role in causing sickness and healing it.
Instead, I chose the easy solutions and made an
appointment with my eye doctor.
A busy, impatient man, he confirmed my layman's diagnosis and brusquely told me he could easily remove the lump by injecting anesthetic, flipping my eyelid back, and puncturing the chalazion. Being someone known to faint during a blood test, I almost blacked out as he described the procedure. I said, ?That's unacceptable.? He then said I could apply some warm compresses, which would offer a 40% chance of it going away.
Perhaps if my doctor had said 60% instead of 40, my body
and mind would have cooperated with the treatment. But
40% told me this was a losing battle. Nevertheless, I
applied the compresses morning and night for weeks. But not only did the chalazion not diminish
in size, it actually looked like it was getting bigger. I found myself staring at other people's
eyes, envying their unblemished lids. I thought about getting one of those big black eye
patches. I finally stopped applying compresses, but I never stopped hoping it would go away
Ten months later the chalazion was still firmly in place. A
coworker suggested I contact Renée Swisko, a spiritual
healer from Marina del Rey, Calif. Swisko has helped
people with what she calls her clairvoyant, direct link with
"spirit," a powerful life-giving force. Using a hands-off
technique and calling on spiritual forces such as angels, she
works to clear blocks from the body's energy field and to
release harmful memories, including those from prenatal
and past-life experiences. Once these are removed, Swisko syas, emotional and physical well-being
are possible. I was fascinated by her work but also suspicious of it -- especially since she
worked over the phone for long-distance clients. Nonetheless, I made an appointment; she told me
our session would last about two hours.
With my cordless phone in hand on a Wednesday evening, I followed Swisko's
directions to lie down on my sofa and make myself
comfortable. She asked me for the names, ages and
personality traits of anyone toward whom I felt a lingering
anger--whether a grade-school classmate or old boyfriend. I
could instantly pinpoint about five people, most notably the
woman who had inspired my recent fury. Then Swisko had me rate the degree of anger I felt
twoard each person -- zero being a feeling of peace and 10 being the strongest negative
feelings. I gave the woman in question an eight. In each case Swisko asked for details of the
incidents that had inspired my acrimony.
When I finished my recounting, which took about 30 minutes, Swisko invoked spiritual
forces--including Emmanuel (considered an ascended
teacher) and my own spirit guides and angels--asking them
to lift me to a state of pure, positive energy. At this point, when I was feeling very mellow, she
had me focus my attention on areas of stress in my life -- anything from a relationship
challenge to money problems -- and on the people on my "anger list." Using her notes, she led
me to examine each issue and person, one at a time. For each, she asked my guides and angels
to help me "be willing to release into the light all negative energy attachments"; this was followed
by a few minutes of silence while the work was being done. At certain points, Swisko asked if
I felt energy moving through me. To be honest, I didn't feel much on a physical level -- only
an occasional tremble -- but I did notice a growing sense of lightness and peace.
After about an hour and a half she had me compare my
initial ratings toward each person on my list to how I now
felt. I had to admit I felt completely neutral to all of them,
including the woman I had been so angry at. After some beautifully uplifting closing statements
-- thanking my angels and so on -- Swisko ended the session. Telling me she had seen a lot of
anger and resentment being pulled out of me, she wished me well and said goodbye.
I immediately called my friend Christy and told her what
happened. We were both skeptical, wondering if the session had simply been an exercise in
relaxation. I went to bed shortly afterward.
The next morning I awoke unusually early, walked into the
bathroom, and took a look at myself in the mirror. I gaped
in disbelief. The chalazion was less than half its original size. I screamed with delight.
When I got to work, my co-workers were astonished that it had shrunk. The following day, the lump
was completely gone.
Quite a number of my friends downplayed the whole incident, insisting it had been only a
coincidence. I resisted my own temptation to agree with them, partly because I thought my
skepticism would tell my boyd that the healing hadn't really happened, which would encourage
the lump to reappear. I also didn't really believe it had been a coincidence; in fact, it
seemed clear to me that if my doctor had excised the lump it could have returned because we
wouldn've neglected the root cause.
That was three years ago. The chalazion has not returned,
nor have any angry thoughts about the woman I was mad at. What has arrived was a firmer belief that my thoughts and feelings--and the words of others
(such as my eye doctor's unhopeful "40 percent chance") -- do affect my mind and body. Deep inside, I have always believed in our power to heal ourselves. But it sure didn't hurt to get some visible
corroboration of that power.