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October 2012

My Dog, My Guru  

I’ll never forget the day I adopted Libby, our 10-week-old Labrador mix. Her mother, a chocolate Lab, was pregnant when she was brought into the shelter. She had four pups. Libby was the one who ran my way when the staff opened the door and let her and her siblings into the greeting room. She had a thin body and long legs, and I simply melted the moment she dropped a ball at my feet.  

I hadn’t owned a dog since I was a boy. Back then, dogs roamed the neighborhood willy nilly. Few had collars, never mind dog licenses. Not so anymore. It is so rare to see a dog roaming the street nowadays that most dog lovers will call the police if they see one, assuming that the dog must be lost. So my boyhood dog ownership gave me absolutely no preparation for owning a puppy in the 21st century.  

I recognized early that Libby was a bit of an alpha when it came to other dogs. Even as a puppy, whenever she came face-to-face with another dog—regardless of its size—she made sure to quickly establish that she was boss. The hair on her back would stand straight up and her tail became stiff as a stick, which quickly transformed her from sweet to scary in seconds.  

 



Editor

You’d never believe she had this side to her when you saw her with people. She pranced and pounced in a playful manner at the mere sight of another person. Adults, kids, it didn’t matter; Libby loved human beings. But when a strange dog came into sight, she was mysteriously replaced as a hyena. Even family and friends would comment, “Wow, I never would have believed that sweet puppy could look so intimidating.”  

I tried to break her of this assertive behavior, but nothing the books or videos taught me worked. She just wanted to be the leader when other dogs were present. So Melissa and I brought Libby to puppy school at the animal shelter where we got her. The first day there, her brother (adopted by another family) happened to be there too. He was the same way. The head trainer saw his forceful demeanor with the other puppies and decided to use him as an example of how well her methods worked.  

Taking the pup into the middle of the room, with all us new puppy owners sitting in a circle around her, the trainer grabbed hold of the puppy’s collar and twisted it until he was forced onto his back. As he vigorously squirmed in protest, she twisted even harder. Looking to her as our expert teacher, we students glanced at one another in concern but trusting that the shelter wouldn’t hire a trainer who abused dogs.  

I personally thought to myself, “She must know what she’s doing.” And then I prayed, “Please, puppy, please just submit and get it over with.”  

Libby’s brother would not break at the trainer’s hardline hold. It became a fierce competition of wills. The woman kept telling us to wait for the dog to surrender, but it never happened. There was no change in the puppy’s behavior. But I can’t say that the dog won, as he clearly was the loser in this exercise. And the public display of cruelty clearly horrified several of us new puppy owners. Libby, Melissa and I left puppy school after that first class to never return again.  

The puppy school incident had me wondering if there are some aspects of a dog’s behavior that simply cannot be changed. And it led me to believe that it might be doing the dog a disservice to even try to change it.  

I know a few dog owners out there who would beg to differ. I have a friend who considers himself a dog expert because he’s read lots of books and watches The Dog Whisperer. His dog is well behaved, so he must really know what he’s doing, right? Or is it that his dog never had an undesirable trait that sat at the core of his personality—not his breed necessarily, but his individual character.  

What’s interesting is that Libby was actually quite trainable. She would sit, stop, stay, give me her paw, and even leave a treat on her paw when I said “leave it” until I picked it up and fed it to her. In fact, Libby was so well trained that I could walk her without a leash, say “Here comes a car” when a vehicle approached, and she would walk off the road, sit down and watch the car drive by without moving. It was quite amazing, and kind of funny, to witness.  

So it wasn’t that Libby wasn’t trainable. She just couldn’t be trained to not be an alpha. Yet, despite Libby’s alpha behavior, she never got into a fight with other dogs. Most of them typically submitted to her within seconds. I eventually noticed that it took three introductions to a new dog before Libby stopped being so dominant with them. The first time they met, Libby growled and often snapped at them. The second time, she just growled. And upon the third meeting, the two dogs usually ran and played together until they wore themselves out. Once that occurred, Libby and the other dog became buddies for life. Even when Libby didn’t see the other dog for a year or more, she was always enthusiastically excited the next time they got together.  

Libby’s behavior with other dogs was rather comical to watch the first year, because she was a small puppy and couldn’t hurt the other dogs even if she’d tried. By her second birthday, however, she weighed about 70 pounds and I began to worry what might happen when she met another dog who also wanted to be the alpha. All the same, I wasn’t really worried about Libby. I felt that she could take care of herself. Instead, I was more concerned for the other dogs.  

One weekend, when Libby was three, Melissa and I visited some friends in Massachusetts for the weekend. They suggested we bring Libby, which we did. They owned a German Shepherd named Otis who Libby had met plenty of times. They weren’t in love with one another because Otis was older and didn’t want to play, but the two dogs got along just fine. This visit was different, however, because our friends had adopted a Saint Bernard a few months prior whom Libby had never met. Her name was Missie and she was about the same age as Libby. My friend, Kris, told me that Missie was a bit of an alpha herself.  

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her back down from another dog so far, Bob. But she hasn’t bitten one yet.”  

“At her size, I guess she wouldn’t need to. She’s probably twice Libby’s size,” I said.  

“It would be good if they could get along so we didn’t have to keep them apart in the house,” Kris suggested.  

“Sure,” I said, “And it might be good for Libby if she meets another alpha who is bigger than her. Maybe she’ll submit and become less dominant with other dogs.”  

There I was again hoping to change her.  

Libby and Missie were both in the back yard already, but we had them on leashes. So Kris and I let our dogs loose and they immediately ran to one another. Straightaway, they began their dance of sniffing and circling with tensed bodies and wide eyes. The atmosphere was nerve-wracking; but neither dog had ever been in a fight, so I expected everything to go okay.  

I was laser focused on the interlude when out of the corner of my eye I saw Kris’ 12-year-old daughter coming around the house with their German Shepherd, Otis. At first I wasn’t worried because Libby was friendly with the Otis, plus he was on a leash. But before I knew it, she let him off the leash and he ran towards the other two dogs.  

In seconds, the two dogs surrounded Libby from either side. The energy went from tense to hostile. Kris and I hadn’t planned on adding Otis to the mix. Before I could take a step towards the dogs to prevent matters from getting worse, the standoff exploded into a fight.  

The Saint Bernard and German Shepherd came at Libby from opposite sides. She didn’t stand a chance. The scuffle lasted only seconds, ending with Libby lying on her side in the grass. At first I thought this might be constructive because she was submitting. But then I noticed she was peeing all over the place, even on herself. Poor Libby was paralyzed with fear.  

At that very moment, she looked up at me, staring dead into my eyes with a look of shock that clearly questioned how I could let this happen. As our eyes locked, her thoughts were easy to interpret. She was asking me, “Why didn’t you protect me?”  

My heart broke in half. I wished I could rewind time for just two minutes in order to do it all differently. I shouldn’t have put her in this position. Who was I to try to change her? And even though there was no way to know that Kris’ daughter was going to arrive with Otis, I should have been as concerned about Libby with this big Saint Bernard as I had been in the past with other dogs who were smaller than her. Although there weren’t any physical injuries, Libby had unquestionably experienced an emotional trauma.  

The incident did change Libby, but not in the way I had previously hoped. She no longer trusted that she was safe and became much more aggressive with other dogs. In the two months that followed, at separate times, she fought with a Rottweiler, a German Shepherd and a Pit Bull. She had never fought with a dog prior to that occurrence with Kris’ dogs. But now she was no longer expressing her dominance; she was outright protecting herself from a place of fear.  

Before this all happened, I worried what might become of Libby’s alpha personality. So I tried to change it and created exactly what I feared. She went from the confident dog who never fought to the scared dog who did.  

I believe the lesson from this story that screams to be heard is that Libby didn’t need to be changed at all; she needed to be accepted and loved as she was. She wasn’t hurting anyone. She wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t a menace to society or our household. It was merely my discomfort with her dominant personality that led me to want her to be different. In the end, that probably said more about myself than it did my dog. So I asked the question, why am I uncomfortable with her dominant personality? What does it mirror to me about myself?  

This led to a wonderful healing of an area within myself that I hadn’t even realized needed attention. It has helped my relationships with both animals and humans. And it turned a very difficult memory into a positive transformation.  

Today, six years later, Libby is 9 years old. I earned back her trust years ago. She now knows that I will protect her at my own peril in any threat. Over time, Libby became less fearful and got back to her former self. She can now meet strange dogs and do her alpha thing without fighting. And we arrange for lots of play dates with dogs she already knows. Whenever we do this, she is always so excited to see them. She barks and runs and sticks her butt up in the air to signal, “Let’s play.” And, little by little, my heart heals from that painful memory each time I see her joy.  

Warmly, 
Bob Olson, OfSpirit.com editor

May 2012

Are You A Control Freak?

To finish a project, I need to learn the story of a book titled, A Razor’s Edge, but I don't have time to read the book. I learn that there are two movies made of the book: a 1946 version with Tyrone Power and Gene Tierney, and a 1984 version with Bill Murray and Theresa Russell. I decide to watch the newer version. Newer is better, right?

So Melissa calls all the video stores in our area, which means she makes two phone calls since we live in Maine. Neither store has it. So we drive all the way to Border’s Books & Music in Portland (a 40-minute drive) absolutely sure that they’ll have it. They don’t. They usually do, but not on this day.

I then drive home, check Amazon.com and notice that the 1946 version is selling much better than the 1984 version. Hmmm, you’d think this might mean something to me. But no, I’m thicker than your average guy. In fact, I don’t even buy the Bill Murray version from Amazon.com because I’m too impatient to wait for it. “I’ll find another way--a faster way,” I say to myself.

Two days later, our TiVo DVR takes it upon itself to record A Razor’s Edge, the 1946 version. One of the cool features of TiVo is that it records programs that it thinks you might like based on past TV shows and movies you’ve recorded on your own. Don’t brush by this quickly. This is the equivalent of your neighbor handing you a book you’ve been wanting to read even though you never mentioned your desire to read the book to anyone. This is an unbelievable, major coincidence. Did it mean anything to me? No way. I saw it as a really cool reminder that I wanted to buy the 1984, Bill Murray version. 

With the movie still recorded on my TiVo, I call Border’s again and Voila! -- they now have the Bill Murray movie in stock. I’m feeling smug about my power of persistence. Melissa and I make the 40-minute drive to Portland, buy the movie for $20, and turn around for the 40-minute drive back home.

Even though I’m watching the movie for my project, Melissa and I are excited about watching it because of its spiritual message. The book is about a man’s spiritual journey in search for meaning, set within a story about human struggle. So we sit in our special places on the sofa. Our older cat cuddles up in Melissa’s lap. Our dog curls up by my feet. We start the movie and prepare for a spiritual lesson. It’s all good, right? Wrong. The Bill Murray version of A Razor’s Edge did what Hollywood has done all too often: it missed the point. The movie was virtually wiped clean of any spiritual message, leaving mostly the story about human struggle to stand alone.

A few days later, Melissa and I decide to watch the 1946 version of the movie that TiVo so gracefully provided us. It was exactly what we wanted. The spiritual message of the story was loud and clear. The movie was perfect. I'm not sure why they ever made another one.

Today's story is about control—me trying to control the flow of life, yet totally getting in its way. The movie that I needed to watch metaphorically fell into my lap; that is, a machine serendipitously recorded it for me. It was instant. It was free. It was effortless. Yet I took it upon myself to choose struggle over flow. I chose to control and drove 160 miles, spent $20 on a DVD, $7 on gas and $2.40 on tolls, entirely without need. And I’ll do it again, I’m sure of it. After all, as I said before, I’m thicker than your average guy ;-)

Warmly, 
Bob Olson, OfSpirit.com editor

March 2012

The Luck Of The “I Wish”  

Last December, it was time for me to trade in my pickup truck for a new one. So while on our way to see a movie one Sunday evening, my wife, Melissa, and I drove through the Toyota dealership to see what they had in stock.  

I was trading in a Toyota Tacoma 4X4 for a new one (four wheel drive being an important feature during our New England winters). As we drove through the lot, the only color they had in stock that I liked was white. And there was only one of those in the model I wanted. But when I found the time to drive to the dealership later the next day (Monday), they had just sold it to another dealership an hour earlier.  

The salesman, a brawny 40-year-old named Chris, told me “When another dealership has a buyer for a model and color that they don’t have in stock but we do, we help each other out by selling it to them at cost. But that’s not a problem, Bob; we’ll just get your truck from another nearby dealership that has what you want.”  

I told Chris that what I really wanted was a dark blue Tacoma 4X4 with a hood scoop—a hood scoop being an air intake on the hood, which is really more of a cosmetic feature that gives the truck a more rugged appearance (maybe it’s a guy thing). But Chris told me that Toyota had changed the blue in the new model and suggested that it was risky to order one without seeing it because I might not like it (and he didn’t have one to show me). I agreed it was too risky. I didn’t want to order something I might not like. So I stuck with the white color.

Chris then explained to me that the hood scoop only comes with a particular model of Tacomas. And it turned out that the hood-scoop model was out of my price range. So I knew that feature wasn’t going to happen either.  

Chris checked his computer and found three white Tacomas in the model I could afford at three different dealerships in New England. We negotiated the final price, I signed a sale agreement and put down a $100 deposit. Chris said he should have the truck in the next day.  

I drove away excited about my new truck but felt slightly unsure about the color. I’ve always wanted a dark blue Tacoma, but no local dealerships had one in stock at the time of my last purchase either. As a result, I settled for a black one because that was nice too. But it wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted. And I always regretted—just a bit—that I hadn’t waited for a blue one.  

Since buying that truck a few years ago, I always added a “dark blue Tacoma with a hood scoop” to my wish list. I’ve had such good luck manifesting my desires whenever I have written “I Wish” at the top of a sheet of paper and then listed all the things I want to manifest into my life. Yet here, once again, I had now signed a sale agreement for a white Tacoma. I drove home questioning if I had settled for what was easy and available rather than waiting until they got a blue one in stock so I could see it. I wondered if this item on my wish list would have to wait another few years.

Stopped at a traffic light, I realized that I was feeling sad when I should be feeling happy. I’ve done enough personal work to know that it didn’t serve me to question myself any longer. So I surrendered to the decision I’d made and got myself excited about my new “white” pickup truck. And all the way home, every time I drove by a white Tacoma, I felt happy about my new purchase.  

On Tuesday morning, I anxiously awaited Chris’ phone call telling me to come get my truck. I had cleared my schedule for the day so I would have time to go to the dealership and get everything done. The call didn’t come. By noontime, I called him.  

“I’m sorry I haven’t called, Bob. I’ve called the closest dealership twice already but the guy hasn’t returned my call. This is unusual, so maybe the guy left the office. I’ll call someone else there and see what’s up. I’ll call you back soon.”  

Two hours later, Chris called saying, “It turns out that the computer was wrong. They already sold that truck. That’s probably why he didn’t call me back—they likely had a customer interested and were waiting to see if he was going to buy it. I’m so sorry about this. I’ll call the next dealership on the list and we’ll find a runner to go get the vehicle. But I probably can’t get it today. I’ll call you tomorrow once it arrives.”  

Wednesday morning felt a lot like Tuesday. Chris never called, so I called him around two o’clock in the afternoon. Once again, he was having difficulty getting the other dealership to return his call.  

“I don’t know what’s going on, Bob. This never happens. Normally other dealerships are good about this sort of thing. It must be because it’s the end of the year. I guess nobody wants to give up a vehicle that they might be able to sell for profit.”  

Chris seemed a bit distraught over the whole situation. He was stuttering a bit and repeating himself a lot. And he was one of the best car salesmen I’d ever had. He really listened to everything I said and didn’t come on strong during the negotiations. So I felt bad for the guy.  

I was beginning to get frustrated, of course, but quickly caught myself each time I did by trusting that the Universe was working in my favor (okay, that was what Melissa was telling me). Melissa reminded me that just because things didn’t appear to be going my way didn’t mean they weren’t. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be trading my truck in yet. Maybe the truck at that dealership was a lemon. Maybe something good would come out of all this delay. It was these thoughts that kept me patient, which allowed me to treat the salesman with kindness and gratitude for his efforts during his moment of anxiety.  

By Thursday—the fourth day into this fiasco—nothing had changed. Chris had now moved on to the third dealership and was having the exact same problem. No one was returning his calls. I remained patient and understanding, but I was beginning to feel like I should call off the sale altogether. When things don’t flow, it usually makes me question if I’m moving in the wrong direction.  

By Friday morning, rather than call Chris, I felt compelled to just drive up to the dealership, cancel the order and get my deposit back. My intuition spoke loudly that this was the thing to do, so I went straight up there in the morning.  

When I walked into the dealership, Chris was sitting with a potential customer. I waited for Chris to leave his desk to tell him I was there. I don’t think he was surprised by my arrival.  

“Hey Chris, I see that you’re busy,” I said. “So who can I talk to about canceling the order and getting my deposit back? Then, once you get some new Tacomas in stock, just give me a call and we’ll start over.”  

“Sure Bob. That’s no problem,” said Chris. “But I was meaning to call you because we got a dark blue Tacoma in from the manufacturer this morning. To tell you the truth, I never know when a new vehicle is going to arrive. So I hid it out back so you could look at it.”  

My heart began to flutter, but I kept my poker face on to not reveal my excitement.  

“Okay, I’ll go take a look at it and let you know,” I told him.  

I walked around to the back of the dealership to find the dark blue Tacoma 4X4 that he hid back there. When I saw it, it was like angelic music began to play and a stream of sunlight shined around the truck (at least in my imagination). I absolutely loved the color, and it was the model with the hood scoop!  

Somehow, I just knew this was my truck. My whole body tingled in a way that only happens when my intuition is strongly connected. And I knew at my core that the dealership would give me this more expensive model (the model with the hood scoop) at the same price I negotiated for the cheaper model in order to not lose the sale—and partially because of everything that had happened that week. I walked back to the showroom and ran into Chris just outside the door.  

“Okay, Chris, I like the color. So I’ll take it for a test drive. But while I’m driving it, tell your sales manager that I’ll only take it if he gives me the exact same deal as we arranged in the sale agreement. If he can’t do it, that’s fine—I’ll just come back in a month or so. But if he can, please don’t come back to me asking me to put another thousand dollars down, not even five hundred dollars or fifty dollars. Okay? Just let me know if you can or can’t do it.”  

I said it laughing so as to keep the mood light, but he knew I was serious. I took the truck for a drive and never lost that feeling that it was mine. When I got back to the dealership, Chris sat me down at a desk.  

“Okay, Bob, you realize, of course, that this truck is a better model than the one you purchased…”  

I cut him off, “Oh here we go. Here comes the upsell.”  

“No, no, no, that’s not where I’m going. I’m not going to ask you for more money. You got your deal. Congratulations. (He shook my hand.) I just want you to know that you got a hell of a deal. I know we had some trouble this week, so I just want you to understand that this vehicle is $5000 more than the one you bought. I want you to walk away happy about all this.”  

I told Chris that I was a happy customer. And before I knew it, I was driving home in the truck I’d wanted for years.  

As I drove home in my new dark blue Tacoma 4X4 with the hood scoop, I thought about the lessons I’d learned from the whole experience. First and foremost, there was a big lesson on setting intentions. Having written down the exact truck I wanted, the Universe knew how to manifest that into my life even when I was willing to settle for less.  

The next lesson was to trust that the Universe was acting in my favor even when I couldn’t see it. I could have canceled my order on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday when the dealership couldn’t obtain the inventory. I could have easily found one of the dealerships that had the white Tacomas in stock and purchased it from them. But instead of trying to control the situation and force it to go my way, I surrendered to what was already in motion and trusted that it was perfect. In the end, I got the color I wanted and a model that was $5000 beyond my budget.  

It’s a simple story, I know; but one I hope you’ll think about when you don’t get that job you wanted. Maybe a better job is right around the corner. Or when that relationship you thought was going somewhere ends. Maybe you’re about to meet the love of your life. Or any number of possible situations where things look grim at first but turn into something better than you ever could have imagined.  

I know this is all a bit optimistic and fluffy. And I know true struggles in life can’t be compared to the purchase of an automobile. But we can turn to the TV, radio or newspapers to hear, see or read about all the doom and gloom we can possibly handle, so why not spread a positive and hopeful message now and then? And if it resonates with you, try it on with your little struggles in life and see how it feels. Then, later, if you’ve had enough positive outcomes, it might just come in handy with the more challenging obstacles you meet.  

Warmest wishes,
Bob Olson
OfSpirit.com editor

February 2012

The Moment My Skepticism Around Energy Healing Dissolved

Earlier this year, I began a new exercise regimen that was more aerobic than anything I had done in a long time. It turns out that my body wasn’t ready for me to jump up in the air, bring my knees waist high, and then slap my hands on my thighs mid-air. First of all, that’s not an easy move to coordinate for the first time in your late 40s, at least not for someone who spends most of his time behind a desk. Second, it wasn’t the jumping that was the issue; it was the landing that both shook the house and injured the ligaments (or something of that nature) in my left knee.

It didn’t happen all at once. I kind of knew it was happening, but I ignored the pain and pushed through. But within a couple weeks, I wasn’t exercising any more or even walking all that well. All the same, I was sure the injury was minor and would heal itself within a few days or weeks. I was wrong. Five months later, it still hurt to walk, especially up and down stairs.

The pain was more annoying than aching. It felt like an elastic band inside my knee might snap at any moment. Yet I was considering that I might need a cane if it got any worse. My biggest concern, though, was that I might not be able to walk my dog, Libby, at some point, which is very important to me. I walk her every morning and every evening, and sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me away from my work. But our morning walks were getting quite difficult being that we walk in the woods with rocks and roots, and dips and ditches, twisting and trouncing my knee. And the worst part was that I was no longer able to run or even jog with Libby. I’d become someone who could only walk or limp quickly, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to run with my dog again.

I did not want to go to the doctor. In my mind, he’d either prescribe medication or recommend surgery, and neither were options I was ready to take at this point. So I waited more than five months hoping it would heal on its own. It didn’t. I finally decided to try an energy healer.

To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have high hopes. Despite having overcome my skepticism about a lot of bizarre abilities in the mind/body/spirit field, energy healing was one modality where I still had a lot of skepticism. But because I also was once skeptical about mediums (yet gained evidence to convince me that people really can communicate with our loved ones in spirit), I was at least an open-minded skeptic. Plus, every time I considered another option like acupuncture, this one energy healer I’d heard about locally, named Jane Fecteau, kept popping into my mind. It took me months to make a decision, but I finally decided to listen to my intuition and give Jane a try.

Knowing that I’d waited five months, I felt confident that my body wasn’t going to heal the knee on its own without some assistance. This was important to me because I had experienced energy healing sessions in the past just for the sake of having the experience. But I didn’t have anything to heal, so I never knew if the sessions had any positive effect. This time I had physical pain in an area of my body for five months, so if the pain subsided following the energy healing session, I could reasonably give the energy healing the credit for that result and not merely assume that my body suddenly healed itself. I knew that was what I required to overcome my skepticism.

I visited intuitive healer Jane Fecteau with hesitant enthusiasm, but I didn’t tell her about my skepticism—I wanted to be polite. It turns out that she wouldn’t have cared if I did. She’s healed lots of skeptics in her many years of practice and enjoys seeing the dramatic awakening and surprise that occurs when these clients are healed.

Jane Fecteau is a slender, gentle woman with layers of curly hair that frame her face and cover her shoulders. What I immediately liked about her is her confidence in her work. Healing people is second nature to her now. Like me with psychics and mediums, she’s seen too much to expect anything but positive results.

What’s cool is that Jane became a healer because she went to an energy healer herself years ago after conventional medicine was unable to successfully heal her injuries due to chemical exposure. She was so impressed by her own healing that she studied to enhance her own intuitive healing abilities and is now one of the most respected healers in New England. I’ve learned through the grapevine that physicians, nurse practitioners, chiropractors, massage therapists and naturopaths often refer their patients to Jane. She even offers classes now to help advanced healers do what she does.

Once in her office, we chatted casually, she had me fill out some brief paperwork, then she had me lay down on a table (fully clothed) while soothing music played in the background. Jane verbally explained to me everything she was doing as she did it, which is something I particularly enjoy. Sometimes she touched my knee or leg very gently, other times she just worked with the energy directly over my body. Since she works with meridians (energy conduits in the body), and since an injury in one area of the body can affect other areas of the body, Jane moved from my left leg to my right leg to my left hip and even my right shoulder during the session.

Jane said she has the ability to view the body the same way an MRI presents it. So I would occasionally look up and see her staring into the air in front of her like she was examining a three-dimensional MRI image.

She kept saying, “You’ll probably feel a shift taking place as I do this,” or “You might feel some warmth or tingling,” but I never felt anything. I’m just not in tune with my body in that way and have never felt physical sensations the way some people do during mind/body/spirit sessions. It’s either that or my skepticism blocks these sensations out.

Once the session was over, Jane informed me that I might be sore the next day and feel a little tired. I really didn’t believe it would happen, but I had no choice but to take a two-hour nap the next day. My knee, however, felt great. It wasn’t one hundred percent pain-free, but it was 90 percent better than it had been over the prior five months.

Jane called me the next day to see how I was doing, but I didn’t return her call. I’ve seen people have a placebo effect after an alternative healing session, so I wanted to be sure I didn’t tell her on the phone that I felt better only to have the pain return the very next day. After three days of my knee feeling increasingly better, I emailed her about my concern of the placebo effect and said I would let her know how I was doing after a couple weeks.

My knee felt better with each day that passed until I totally forgot it was ever injured. About two weeks after the session with Jane, I was visiting family in Connecticut who live and work at a private school. I had taken Libby out for a walk in the morning and suddenly found myself running across the school fields with her running beside me. I ran. She chased. I dodged her. She ran away. I chased after her. She jumped and barked playfully. Until I finally recognized, “Oh my God! I’m running without pain!”

I called Jane Fecteau right away. It was a Saturday, but she answered the phone.

“Jane, it’s Bob Olson. Forgive me if I sound out of breath, but I was just outside with my dog and suddenly realized that I was running beside her without pain. I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever run with her again. I’m so excited that I just had to tell you.”

That was the moment my skepticism around energy healing dissolved.

But the story doesn’t end there. I told Jane that day that, in hindsight, I realized my knee was maybe 97 percent better—yet I still had two or three minutes of discomfort in the knee a few times a week. It didn’t hurt at all while running with Libby, and didn’t hurt at all while talking to Jane on the phone, but I remembered having these brief minutes of slight discomfort the prior week.

Jane said that what I was experiencing was equivalent to a memory of the injury, and that all I needed was maybe one or two more sessions to release that memory from my body. It made sense to me, so I went back to see her.

In my second session, Jane Fecteau noticed that my left kneecap was a little out of alignment due to my compensating for the injury for so long. She told me that she was going to re-align it, upon which she gently touched it (again I felt nothing). The next day, though, my kneecap was sore, as if she really did re-align it. Of course, she had warned me that this would likely happen, so I wasn’t worried. I was actually surprised that my kneecap was sore at all, mind you that this was on the outside of my knee now, not inside the knee where my original pain had been located.

I said to my wife, Melissa, “This is amazing. I can really feel where she worked on me.” I was dumbfounded that her gentle touch had this significant effect.

A week later, I could still feel discomfort in my kneecap (not the original ligament area), so I went back to see Jane for a third session. She said that healing isn’t always an overnight event, that it can be a process. I laughed because I say that a lot about spiritual growth—it’s a process and not an event.

I’ll admit that my elation about healing my original problem was deflated a bit by this new issue. I had no question in my mind that Jane Fecteau’s healing abilities were real, but I wondered if re-aligning my kneecap had been a good idea. It turns out it was exactly what I needed, because my knee is now completely healed. My left leg is a little weak due to the months I spent putting most of the weight and work on my right leg to compensate for my original issue, but I have no pain or discomfort in the ligament area or my kneecap.

I’m actually glad I had to go back for the second and third sessions, because I got to experience how Jane’s work really had a physical result (and one I could feel). If she had just said that she re-aligned my kneecap and I never felt anything in the days following, I never would have known if she did or didn’t. But there was no denying that my kneecap felt sore in the days that followed, just as it would have if a surgeon had re-aligned it. Yet I didn’t have to get surgery. There was no anesthesia, no incision, no pain medication and no physical rehabilitation to follow.

And now that I’m healed, I get to share this experience with you and others. I experienced a healing that was distinguishable and recognizable—not just something that is imperceptible or that I’ll have to wait for the future to know if it’s real (like a psychic prediction). I had the experience of feeling physical pain that sustained for five months and then disappeared after seeing an energy healer. I never would have expected it, but now I’m glad that I gave it a try.

Jane Fecteau is both a medical intuitive and energy healer. From my perspective, energy healers are a cut above medical intuitives because they can heal the physical issue rather than just identify it and offer healing advice. Nonetheless, Jane can do both.

Although it wasn’t my personal experience, Jane assures me that not everyone is going to heal quite as quickly as I did. Your illness or injury might require more than three sessions over a few weeks. That said, in the time that it’s taken me to write this article, I now know several people who have been to see Jane based on my recommendation and have seen amazing results covering a wide-range of issues. I’ve subsequently learned that she has had exceptional results with conditions involving chronic pain where people’s doctors were unable to help them.

I now get ongoing sessions with Jane just to keep my energy body at optimal performance, as does my wife and some friends of ours. I’ve come to notice a lot of positive changes taking place in all our lives, which leads me to believe that energy work affects all aspects of our lives—our relationships, happiness and even our finances—not just our physical body. This isn’t something I can prove, of course; but it might just be an added benefit to working with an energy healer.

You can learn more about Jane Fecteau via her website http://www.JaneFecteau.com. Her phone number is 207-370-5108. She is able to work remotely (over the phone) with anyone around the world, so it is not necessary to travel to her office in Maine; but that too is an option. Be sure to tell her that you read about her in Bob Olson’s article. And give her a call soon, as the people who I write about tend to book up fast once I’ve put my article online.

My very best wishes for your health and healing.

Warmly,

Bob Olson
Founder of BestPsychicMediums.com
Founder of BestPsychicDirectory.com
Founder of AfterLifeTV.com
Editor of OfSpirit.com Magazine

Disclaimer: While I certainly can’t recommend energy healing in place of conventional medical treatment, it works wonderfully alongside mainstream medical care or when traditional medicine isn’t working and has been exhausted. Energy healing and medical intuition should never be used to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease or psychological disorder, or as a substitute for medical care or psychological treatment. My own personal story does not constitute a warranty, guarantee or prediction regarding the outcome of an individual using Jane Fecteau's services.

 

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