The Autobiography of Brian Stables (Part 19)

Introduction

Late Middle Age

Brian was born in Tickhill in 1929 and emigrated to Canada in 1976. He is currently serialising his life story for us.

He has also provided a superb collection of photographs to accompany his story. Click the photo for a larger image.

It happened that, during my very first session, one of the participants was suffering from a very bad cough and, of course, this disturbed the concentration of the group. The group leader knew of my ability to heal and came to me saying, (almost ordering me!);” Would you please ‘fix’ that cough so we can all concentrate on what we are doing”.

“Only if she were to ask me,” I replied.

I subscribe to the belief that the person must have faith in my ability in order for my ministrations to be effective, this is not always the case of course, but I find it easier when I have the recipient in an agreeable frame of mind.

The session was halted and, there in the chancel of the Church, I healed the ladies cough. The following week there was another person turned up with a request to be healed of some malady, and again, I was able to help. It became common in the ensuing weeks for someone to turn up at the Church and request my help. I began to think of setting up a special time for just healing and prayer, but in the event I never got around to it.

...it occurred to me that I could transpose myself mentally and heal this unfortunate person who was patiently waiting for me to finish what I was doing...

All had gone well until, one week; a lady came along, who, along with other problems, could hardly walk. She asked for my help, but for some reason I was feeling a bit cranky just at that moment. I was anxious to start meditating and this healing stuff was getting in my way. (I’m a Yorkshire man, what can I say!).
I helped her to the front of the church and laid her down on a pew. Using pillows and a couple of coats, I made her as comfortable as I could, and told her I would attend to her after my meditation.

She readily accepted this situation and I went to the back of the Nave where I began to meditate. Whilst going quite deep into a meditative state, it occurred to me that I could transpose myself mentally and heal this unfortunate person who was patiently waiting for me to finish what I was doing, and moreover, do this without waiting until the end of the session. Even as this thought came into my mind, I mentally pictured myself standing over her and moving my hands over her body, as I did this I heard the church bells chiming eleven o’clock.

Shortly afterwards, at the end of our session, I had just stood up feeling a trifle bewildered, I was about to speak of my strange experience with the group leader, when the sick person stood up and came walking towards me without any help whatsoever.

I just had time to say, “She is about to tell us that she was healed as the bells chimed the hour”.
She approached, and said, “Brian I don’t need your help now, I have just experienced a miracle, an Angel appeared and all my pain left me, and look! I am able to walk!”.

“Tell me what time that was”, I requested, barely able to trust my senses.
“The bells were just chiming eleven o’clock” came her reply!

The following week as I entered the church for meditation I was met at the door and informed that the minister had requested that I never again enter his church, he did not approve of my practices! What would Jesus have said to that, I wondered?

I did not realise at that time that we are all dying, right from the day we are born! Some of us just take a bit longer than others!

This, together with the Tai Chi Chuan, helped me to adjust to the trauma of being unemployable. I began casting around for more ways to get deeper into my inner self, when, in early 1995, my eye caught a small notice in the newspaper to the effect that the local Hospice movement was running a qualifying course for volunteers. Just the thing, I thought. If dying people don’t know about compassion, and the lack of, who would? I did not realise at that time that we are all dying, right from the day we are born! Some of us just take a bit longer than others!

I applied for a place on the course and quite firmly advised the co-ordinator that I had no intention of being a volunteer, all I required, I insisted, was the insights that I believed the course would bring me, and so it was agreed.

From my point of view the course was an unqualified success. I met and mixed with, some of the most compassionate, warm hearted people that it is possible to meet, some of the classes were quite emotional, and all were instructional. I was unsurprised that one of the instructors was that redoubtable person, my principal Therapeutic Touch instructor, Evelyn MacKay.

I received insights that I imagine would be difficult to receive from any other source, and, as per our agreement, at the end of the course, there was no pressure for me to continue on as a volunteer. Of course it was not to be. It never has been for me.

In late July I received a phone call from Barbara, the co-ordinator of Hospice. Before she got past her greeting to me I straight away reminded her of the agreement that I was not to be considered a volunteer.
“I do realise that Brian” she said,” I was very hesitant to phone you, but, we have a very unusual situation where the patient’s family are keen for him to receive Therapeutic Touch and he does not want a woman fussing around him, he is in a lot of pain and we know T.T. helps alleviate that.”
“You are the only man I know who is qualified to help.” She continued.
“Forget it” I said,
“OK,” said Barbara, “I will just tell his mother that we don’t have anyone available”.

That piqued my interest. “What do you mean, ‘Mother’?” I asked. I was making the mistake of assuming that only, (very) old people died.
“Well, this guy is only nineteen years old and has a brain tumour; he has only six months to live and his mom has seen that T.T. helps.”
“I will come over right away and you can give me the details”, I was humbled enough to reply.

“Why am I laid here...and you are there, perfectly fine and so much older?”...perhaps it was because they had been addicted to cigarettes, and I had not.

I became regularly involved in comforting of the hospice clients who were suffering a terminal disease, and it was a surprise to me how many were younger than I was. Quite a few were not averse to pointing it out either!

 “Why am I laid here at age forty five, (or whatever) and you are there, perfectly fine and so much older?”. I did not have the heart to answer that; (in most cases) perhaps it was because they had been addicted to cigarettes, and I had not.

Another surprise was the amount of comfort I received from both the patient and the immediate family. One of the lessons during the Hospice course was to the effect that one must keep aloof from becoming emotionally involved, but I found that impossible. Indeed it is contradictory, if I were to be of use, I worked out, I had to jump into the situation ‘all the way’, I still think that to be effective in anything that one must experience everything that the situation demands.

There was one lady who was in her late eighties to whom I had formed a very deep attachment, she shared many memories of her youth with me and I felt as though I had known her all my life. When she died I was so distraught that her family gathered around me and gave me comfort.

They were comforting me after the death of their mother!

It was supposed to be the other way around!

“There is no charge for this Brian, my friend has heard about you and wishes to make it a gift,”

Another amazing thing, (to me) during this period of searching and enlightenment, was how odd happenings came about that were to my benefit. Two examples of this came at different times but were both equally miraculous.

There was a weekend workshop being run by a famous American lady named Cathleen Fanslow - Brunjes who taught about dying and bereavement, she called this ‘Thanatology’ which, I suppose would fit the bill’ Thanos being a root of death and dying. The cost was prohibitive to me. I whined about it a bit and then put it out of my mind, there is no point dwelling on things one cannot control.

Two days before the workshop I received a phone call from a stranger who said that she had heard of my desire to attend this workshop and that she had a friend who had a ticket but was unable to go.
“I would love to buy it” I answered, “But I just cannot afford it.”
“There is no charge for this Brian, my friend has heard about you and wishes to make it a gift,”
I was speechless.
“A ride has been arranged for you and all you have to do is accept”.

It was one of the most emotional workshops I have ever experienced, and it was not until some many months later that I was able discover, not my benefactor, but the intermediary, and thank her for the gift. She said it was the will of God. I never did learn to whom the ticket originally belonged.

my hearing...had reached the point where I was unable to hear what could be the most important words of anyone’s life: their last words. 

The second occasion was similar; there was a weekend workshop and seminar session being run by the T.T. network, again I was whining away because I could not afford the cost. About two days before the deadline to register, an envelope containing cash to the exact amount of the event was pushed under our apartment door whilst Val and I were out grocery shopping.
 
I continued in this manner for over seven years, my hearing, already impaired due to the guns and radios of military service, particularly the short wave radios, had reached the point where I was unable to hear what could be the most important words of anyone’s life: their last words. It was with deep regret I felt obliged to resign from the task of easing the way for the final journey.

I did manage to continue with Hospice for eighteen months or so, helping out with the day program and leading groups around a Labyrinth, but I realised this was not for me and I left.

During all this time I was teaching a couple of groups of senior citizens how to perform Tai Chi Chuan, and I was receiving a great deal of pleasure from enhancing the lives of some very deserving people, but, regrettably, due to the onset of the dizziness and nausea, (plus other disagreeable symptoms) which accompanied my affliction, I had to stop that too.

“OK God, you got me here, if I am to do your will I am going to need some help. You are going to have to do something”

The words; ‘Physician heal thyself’, started to come into focus once more. I knew I could heal others, but get rid of asthma, arthritis, rheumatism? Why not?

The idea came about when a good friend, and member of Hospice, asked me if I would go along with her to give a treatment to a Hospice patient she was attending who had a cancer on the lobe of her ear.
I was still allergic to cats, dogs and myriad other things at the time, and I recall stepping into the sick persons apartment and immediately having a very bad asthma attack; they had a couple of cats and I had walked right into them.

I returned to the corridor accompanied by my friend and, gasping for breath, without any thought of reaching for my medication, or indeed of anything else, I just prayed to God saying out loud; “OK God, you got me here, if I am to do your will I am going to need some help. You are going to have to do something”. Incredibly the asthma immediately disappeared!

I re-entered the apartment where I successfully completed my healing routine and the cancer disappeared.

Afterwards as my friend and I walked down to her car she said as how she had never heard anyone pray in such a demanding tone, nor had she ever imagined anything to match such an occurrence, it was a real a miracle, and, I had to admit, I was quite shaken by it too. As we reached her car I started an asthma attack. There was a cat resting under the car!

I had a revelation whereby I knew I had to take my own health into my own hands, and when I reached home I commenced a program of going into deep meditation, and, at the same time, wave my arms over my body as if I were practicing T.T. on another person. Just, in fact, as if one were practicing Chi Gong. To-day I have not a trace of asthma, and I am able to practice Tai Chi whenever I feel like it, usually three times a week.

I am now firmly convinced that the Religious movements of today, and yesterday, were created for the aggrandizement and power of the various types of priesthoods.

This whole period convinced me that there truly is a God, a creator of everything inside and outside of the Universe. Nothing else makes sense to me. Even more, I am now firmly convinced that the Religious movements of today, and yesterday, were created for the aggrandizement and power of the various types of priesthoods. I have proved, to myself at least, that the power of prayer is available to all. There is no need to approach God through a whole series of rites and ceremonies. If you think of it, this is what both Jesus and Mohammad, (plus many others) taught, isn’t it?

I started to beg the question as to why the Christians of medieval times hid the stories of Jesus which are there for all to read in the Koran.
Who created the so called, ‘Dark ages’ and why?
How much of the ministry of Jesus has been hidden for political purposes? How much of the ministry of Mohammed has been altered to suit the political aspirations of the ayatollahs?

Today, (February 2004) as I rapidly approach late middle age, I have decided that I do not wish to know the true answers; they would get in the way of my perception of reality! There is much more fun, and enrichment, in searching!