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Reiki: Just The Facts
Take Me To The River

by Don Brennan

It was Wednesday morning, July 6, three days before the 2016 Gem & Mineral Show. I was heading down the driveway with a cup of coffee in one hand and a well-worn copy of The Celestine Prophecy tucked under my arm. The Celestine Prophecy is one of those spiritual adventure stories that I’ll never get tired of reading. Whenever I read it, I get caught up in the history of humanity’s spiritual evolution and see the influences of my ancestors on my own spiritual journey. This particular copy, I bought from Bob Canino, the “Book Guy.” Every time I opened the book it reminded me of his gentle presence.

The sun was shining and I was looking forward to reading at the picnic table in the back yard. The narrator was about to describe seeing energy radiating from people and plants in the gardens and orchards of Viciente Lodge in the Andes and I wanted to immerse myself in the energy of my own trees and plants. As I turned the corner of the driveway, I couldn’t help noticing a beam of sunlight illuminating a large stone that had been washed out of the rock garden and into the driveway. It was sitting there, sparkling with energy, as if it had been waiting a very long time to greet me that morning.

“Whoa! Where did you come from?’’ I set it down on the picnic table as fragments of memories washed over me. It was an old friend that I had found as a child, on a family vacation, somewhere one summer. Even though it was still covered with bits of soil, it was easy to see that it was loaded with interesting minerals. “I’m going to have to hose you off.”

The next two mornings, I spent more time staring at the stone than reading my book. The words were creating images not from The Celestine Prophecy, but from the day this stone first came into my life.

I had glimpses of it sparkling
in a shallow pool of water at
the bottom of a riverbed.

By now this new old friend had been scrubbed several times and I could appreciate the raw beauty and intense energy of white calcite, smoky quartz, black tourmaline and garnet.
It was clear that this stone had found me…twice. It’s certainly no coincidence that it reintroduced itself three days before the Gem Show, where I was going to be doing Reiki Healing with Crystals. How could I not take it to the Gem Show?

As one image led to another, I began to see a scenic rest stop or destination at a long winding river in New Hampshire. But we visited so many places in the New England states that it was almost impossible to say where or even when it may have happened.

Regardless of how it came to me this stone was meant to do healing work. It’s shape and white calcite reminded me of the sacrum and I knew this was going to be a great stone for the spine and other skeletal issues. The calcite, black tourmaline, smoky quartz and garnet are all good base chakra stones. And they are all wonderful for grounding, clearing and cleansing. Again I think of the cleansing forces of the river in which it was found.

Finally, last November at the 2017 Canastota Psychic Fair, I had the chance to ask Kris Faso if he could tune in to the stone to see where I found it as a child. He agreed that it came back into my life for healing work. There was something about wisdom from the future, that was known in the past and is being remembered now. He thought it was an amazing stone as well, and suggested that I imagine the feeling I had when I first pulled it up from the river.

So the next morning at home, I was thinking of that moment. There was a picnic area where we ate lunch. There was a covered bridge. I seem to remember wading downstream in the river. There was a large outcropping of rock above the surface, washed in sunlight. And then the river deepened and twisted around a bend leading to a little pool where something sparkling was calling for my attention.

I had found other sparkly stones in that river. Some have reemerged from the rock garden. But none compare to this one. To my childhood mind it seemed like it was full of jewels as I scooped it up from the river. And for the rest of the summer anyway, it was my precious.

I asked my brother about it, and his memory of our family vacations was worse than mine. But in talking with him, it seemed to make sense to look at some maps, rivers, picnic rest stops and tourist destinations, especially in New Hampshire. I already knew that the calcite, tourmaline and smoky quartz were regional to that area. And there were a couple of old garnet mines not far away in Maine. It seemed very likely that garnet would also be found in New Hampshire.

As visualizations led to other visualizations, the mystery seemed to be solving itself. Once I nailed down the geographical location, the visualizations were being validated by places that really do exist.
New Hampshire has an amazing state park in the White Mountains, called Franconia Notch. At the base of Mount Liberty, is an 800-foot long gorge with 70 to 90 feet high walls of Conway granite. 200 million years ago, the Conway granite was deeply buried molten rock. As it cooled, the granite was broken by vertical fractures. Fluid dikes of basalt were forced up through the fractures, forcing the Conway granite aside. Basalt is finer grained than granite so it eroded faster as the waters of Flume Brook carved out a deep valley, creating the gorge. Water erosion and frost heaving continue to sculpt the Flume Gorge and bring up through cracks and fissures the hidden treasures from deep within the earth.

At first, I just used the stone to ground the earth chakra between the feet, because it was such a great grounding stone. I used it for every treatment and eventually it seemed to want greater, more active participation. The very last person at that fair was Kris Faso’s front person Melaine. She wanted to learn Reiki and Kris told her, “You’ve got to take it from Don.”

Her lower back was killing her and my river rock wanted to help. I said, “this might be a little heavy, but you’re going to love it.” Other stones were used as well, and by the end of the session her back pain was gone.

At some later time, I was talking on the phone with Melaine. She said she had a message from Kris. “Make sure you tell him. Don’t forget. The stone he found as a kid…put the stone where you want the focus of the healing.”

I had already been doing that because the stone would tell me where it wanted to be placed and how it wanted to be positioned. When we begin to listen to the stones, they are more than happy to guide us.

The last person treated at the November 2017 Psychic Fair was Mark Shaughnessy who was suffering from a previous back injury. His back had been facing a very cold wall, all weekend long in his booth, and he was extremely contracted. I put the stone in the middle of his spine, where he had the biggest energy block. “Let me know if this is too heavy or painful.” His response was one that has become very familiar, “It actually feels good.”

Mark reported that all the other stones felt like EKG connectors sucking out discordant energy. He said the river stone pulled and cleared the block in the middle of his spine and moved it down to the sacrum. When I put the stone on his sacrum, it cleared it and moved it into his hips. And then I stroked from his hips to his toes and all the pain and tension left his body.

Just as the river performs its cleansing and releasing this healing stone works to wash away whatever is no longer necessary to hold on to. It clears away the energy patterns that no longer serve us. It pulls out the pain of the past…allowing for renewal and rebirth.

I had just turned 12 when I found that stone in the summer of 1964. It was the transitional summer between elementary school and junior high school. As childhood fascinations gave way to teenage interests, the precious stones of my past became buried in that little rock garden out back. 50 years later, when we were both ready, it called to me, and came back into my life once again.

© 2018 Donald Brennan

 

(You may view the complete print version here)
(Click to Purchase as a print magazine
_______________________
IN THIS ISSUE–––
EDITORIAL
• David S. Warren -
Editor's Notes

• Georgia E. Warren -
The Test

ARTICLES
• Sue Ryn -
I Never Imagined This

• Mary Gilliland -
Sky Dancer

• David S. Warren -
Poem to Archie

• Don Brennan -
Take Me To the River


• Peter Fortunato -
Surreal Really

• Peter Wetherbee -
Sinister Ballad of a
Middle-Aged Man


FICTION
David S.Warren -
We are Nuts


• Rhian Ellis -
Furuncle

• Garriel Orgrease -
Evening Out

• Daniel Lovell -
One for Miriam

• Nancy Viera Couto -
Margarida, Jose,
and the Queen

• David Rollow -
Your Stuff

• Franklin Crawford -
When I Have Thoughts
That I May Cease to Pee


REVIEW
• David Rollow -
Review: A. R. Ammons
Complete Poems


POETRY
• Chris MacCormack -
Packages (an excerpt)
_______________________



Evening Out

by Gabrial Orgrease

The running joke had become that I was being passed off as Billy Gibbons from Zee Zee Top. I wandered the streets of the French Quarter with family and friends of family. Whenever anyone of the group shouted, “Billy Gibbons, everyone, Billy Gibbons!” I was to go “Har har har.” (go to story)
______________________


When I Have Thoughts That I May Cease to Pee

by Franklin Crawford

My brain, which I am very attached to even though we’ve never met, is doomed to liquefy and bubble out of my ears, nose and mouth, shortly after I am as dead as the DNC.
It’s not the most pleasant thought my mind ever conjured, given that I suspect my brain doesn’t like to imagine its post-mortem condition any more than whatever this self – this symbiont with whom I share my weathered hide – wishes to dwell upon. (go to story)

______________________

The Test

by Georgia E. Warren

As soon as I got back to my dorm room I remembered. There was no textbook, we were supposed to research the famous artwork of Milan. The test was to identify and discuss the Italian Renaissance art was located in Milan. It was late. The library was closed. I decided I should go to bed and try to get to the library before class.

But I was exhausted: I sat on my bed ready to take my shoes off and fell asleep in my clothes.

Within a minute a very nice Catholic Nun shook my shoulder and told me I should not sleep in the pews of the sanctuary. I told her the problem about my class. I did not tell her it was thousands of miles away
(go to article)________________________



Reiki: Just The Facts

"Take Me To The River"

by Don Brennan

“Whoa! Where did you come from?’’ I set it down on the picnic table as fragments of memories washed over me. It was an old friend that I had found as a child, on a family vacation, somewhere one summer. Even though it was still covered with bits of soil, it was easy to see that it was loaded with interesting minerals. “I’m going to have to hose you off.”
The next two mornings, I spent more time staring at the stone than reading my book. The words were creating images not from The Celestine Prophecy, but from the day this stone first came into my life.

I had glimpses of it sparkling
in a shallow pool of water at
the bottom of a riverbed.
(go to article)

_____________________

POETRY

Chris MacCormack
excerpt from
Packages (visit)
___________________


by David Rollow

The Muse came knocking at the writer’s window on a night of wild weather. Her skin seen through the windowpanes was luminous and pale, except for her flushed cheeks. Her green eyes glistened. Never had she looked more beautiful. Gladdened by this unexpected visit--for the page lay empty on his table and the pen lay untouched by the page--the writer stood and unlocked the window, his heart surging against his ribs as if they, too, somehow, were to be unlocked and his heart set free. (go to story)

______________________


by Mary Gilliland

Myth is longing. I lose myself in myth. When I would re-read the texts, or re-imagine them, myth led me out of family problems I could do nothing about. It contextualized the martyred strivings of Roman Catholic indoctrination. (excerpt, go to full story)

_____________________


Margarida, José, and the Queen

by by Nancy Vieira Couto

Margarida saw the Queen in that summer of 1901 when all the days were damp and filled with the smell of salt. She couldn’t see the future through the fog, but she imagined machines, money, and motion, a city crammed with tenement houses and streetcars. She was fourteen years old. She and her mother, Maria Julia, had just arrived in Ponta Delgada, having said good-bye forever to aunts, uncles, cousins and friends, the living and the dead.
(go to story)
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The focus of our next Metaphysical Times will be "Memory." (see full size)

© 2018 The Metaphysical Times Publishing Company - PO Box 44 Aurora, NY 13026 • All rights reserved. For any article re-publication, contact authors directly.