It surprises me that the emotion we need to heal is also the emotion that causes us so much pain. Our relationships seem to be increasingly materialistic and political – the politics of morality and conformity. My work with spirit has given me a glimpse into our past, and I’ve seen peoples of all ethnicity and nations living peacefully: communities raising children, powerful hunters and warriors with gentle hands and gestures, the elderly respected and assisted into the world of spirit, lovers without jealousy, and love without rules.

All souls communicate to each other, and this is the most common dialogue, “I love you,” and the response, “I love you too.” Yet, the majority of clients I see are vibrating at, I hate myself, and, don’t hurt me. When did we stop loving ourselves and each other?

The Healing Experience of ‘I Love You’

While healing, my hands move into the energy field of a young woman and words tumble into my mind, “I love you.” The woman twitches as if she’s been electrocuted, she gasps and bites her lip. It feels like I’ve been punched in the chest and her energy field screams at me, “don’t!” My left hand floats across her hips and I feel nauseous. Her energy field screams again, “don’t hurt me!” I feel like crying, instead, silently I tell her, “I love you.”

As I continue to heal her, spirit guides me to speak out loud. I share the conversations and images from her energy field: the angry father, the anxious mother, the self harm in High School, the abortion, the cheating husband, the belief she’s failed as a mother, the aching loneliness and ensuing depression. The information is confronting, accurate and painful for her to hear, and for me to experience.

She’s vibrating at I hate myself, she’s replaying her parents and grandparents lives. It’s likely generations of her family have led similar lives. This habitual vibration entombs her soul’s I love you’s. It’s the same as spilling oil into our oceans; her energy field is polluted, she’s not living her life, she’s copy-catting her parents.

As the healing continues her energy field begins to tell me she loves me. My mind responds, “you’re beautiful,” and she replies, “thank you.” Her face relaxes, she looks ten years younger, her hips and back sink into the massage table. Unconsciously, she rolls into my hand, trapping my arm, and she drifts of to sleep. Every spirit in the room, healers, guides, angels, and family, tell her they love her, and she feels it.

When I gently prompt her to open her eyes tears spill down her cheeks. I wipe the tears away with my thumb and she gasps. She stares at me and knows I love her. She knows because she’s vibrating at I love myself. It’s confronting having a stranger know the truth about her life. It’s too painful to bare. She sobs and our hearts break together.

She clenches my hand as if she’s giving birth, she trusts me, but doesn’t know why or how. She tells me I feel familiar to her as if we’ve met before. We have, six billion of us have met before. Our souls love each other. We are one.

Finally, dazed, she sits up. Her make up and hair is a mess, but she doesn’t care. She feels peaceful for the first time she can remember. There’s a comfortable feeling in the room, as if we’re lovers. She feels it also, laughs, and then looks cute with embarrassment. She discusses the feeling with me. How is this possible? We’re strangers. And then she asks me the impossible question – “How do you know who to fall in love with? I thought I was in love and it hurt me. What’s love supposed to feel like?”

I don’t know, but I believe that we should continue to fall in love. It’s our pain that enables us to recognise that the feeling during the healing is something familiar and unfamiliar to us, but we don’t need to feel pain to know what love is – this is our created state, not our natural state. The love during the healing feels like home, but it’s too risky to act on. She wants to be in my arms, but she can’t. The healing needs to continue into the evening, forever: two strangers trusting each other and becoming life long friends, but forever is fleeting and is poisoned by perception and judgement. She has to be brave and walk out the door, and I have to let her go.

There’s something wrong with that. I see pain everywhere I go. Loneliness and despair etched in the faces and flooding the energy fields of passers by. It’s rare for anyone to return my gaze, to smile, to not be frightened of the love I’m sending them. We’re not supposed to suffer. Suffering is a belief system, an active vibration in the collective energy field of life, a poisonous barb we’ve chosen not to dislodge.

I have six billion soul mates. Love isn’t an individual gift, it’s universal. I want the feeling I experience in the healing room to manifest on our streets, in our homes, with each other. Surely, that’s how we’re supposed to live.

It bothers me that we have an industry dedicated to showing us how to love. I believe it’s failing and perpetuates that we’re broken. I don’t have the answer, and I’d like more people to tell the truth and say, “I don’t know.” I don’t know how I heal, but I can tell you a story that’s simple and timeless.

“I love you.”