As it turns out, most families did not teach the children to draw upon the natural healing powers present in all of nature in order to bring about the wellness and restoration of other living things. This seemingly odd practice was something that had been carried down through segments of both my mother's and father's lineage. While my mother carried on the tradition, her older sister did not have the faintest interest in doing so.
I remember being presented with a case study at about the age of 6 or 7, in which there was a call for healing. These types of opportunities were often presented to us from the time we were young. In this particular situation, the miniature marigolds my parents had purchased to surround our garden were sick -- they had grown pale and sickly shortly after being planted. "Transplant shock" was the diagnosis from my mother. "See what you can do to bring them back to good health," she invited me, providing me no real prescribed solutions.
While sitting by the plants, in the late afternoon sun, an idea occurred to me. My parents had already tried plant food and the new transplants had been given just the right amount of water. Even so, the normal gift of a "green thumb" which both Mom and Dad possessed appeared to be of little avail. "What could I possibly do?" I wondered. And then it struck me. These plants weren't designed to be sickly, pale and shriveling versions of themselves. They were created to be strong, robust, beautiful sentinels of the garden. I would simply remind the plants of who they were and what they were capable of.
It was a wonderful idea, I thought to myself. But there was just one problem. How do you communicate such a message to a plant? I suppose that simply talking to them might have done the trick (my parents had made us aware of interesting studies that explored the positive effects that encouraging words could have on plants), That's not the idea that popped into my head, however.
For some reason, I started to communicate to my botanical patients by employing a method I'd never seen performed before (I know now that it is a practice called "toning" -- a technique utilized by different healing practitioners and similarly mimicked by ultrasonic treatments). In employing this notion that seemed to simply "pop" into I my head, I started making a sound that I called the "IT sound" because I could sense the vibration of IT everywhere. As I made the sound, I also pictured the marigolds as healthy, strong, flowering plants.
When my mother peeked out the door to see what I was up to, she didn't find it odd that I was toning to the plants. Instead, she simply smiled asked me about what I was doing. When I explained I was making the IT sound from the Universe so the plants would wake up and remember who they were, she nodded approvingly and said, "Oh good. That's an excellent idea."
After a few days of my administering the IT treatments to the ailing marigolds, I awoke to hear my parents speaking outside my bedroom window with awestruck voices. As I made my way outside, I too joined in the jubilation as I discovered that the once stricken plants were no longer dying. In fact, they were happy and vibrant. It was almost as if they had gone through an overnight transformation.
Over the next week, as I continued my treatments, the newly energized marigolds grew several inches in height, became verdant green, and had flowers like exploding like fireworks. Within another week or so, the plants had grown far beyond the normal limits of their species. In fact, they eventually began to compete in height with the full-sized marigolds at the other end of the garden.
In the years since that time, as I have on rare occasions shared this story, people are often amazed by my mother's reaction and by the notion that a young boy making odd sounds at a plant could have any affect at all. "Surely your mother or father fertilized the plants and didn't tell you," some say."Or maybe they replaced them with new plants." That's possible, but both of my parents denied it then and throughout their lives. And while my father has since passed on, my mother (now 93 years-old) will still recall the time "when you made the flowers grow my doing the "IT sound."
My fascination with natural healing grew even stronger when, years after the marigold incident, I found myself living in South America. While there, I was delighted to find that the invisible world of spirit was still very much alive and an integral part of many people's everyday lives. It was there, with people of indigenous origins, that I really began to understand how to let the healing begin. But that, my friends, is a story for another day.
Peace, Love, and Good Health to you,
Chief Community Officer
Our Health Co-op, Inc.