It all started on Friday, November 12, 2010, with the Millburn High School Class of 1970 40th reunion, class of 1970 from Millburn, New Jersey.  We were a wild bunch.  It was the end of the love decade, the 60’s, and we didn’t know the trouble we were about to get into in the 70’s.

We were a high school half in the old way of collegiate, ivy league prep and sports, and half in a new way–drugs, music,  experimentation, anti-war demonstrations– left-over hippies looking for a new decade’s identity.

I graduated (barely, having majored in skipping classes, please don’t tell my parents!) and wondered how my sensitive friends, who seemed so ill-fitted for society, would fare and they may have wondered the same about me.  I loved them and didn’t want them to be crushed.  We all seemed so fragile to be taking on the world.

So it was with great happiness and relief that I returned to Millburn High School to find, on the most part, everyone accounted for.  We lived through those tumultuous times.  We survived, and thrived.  We took on the confines of society’s rules, made magic, and came out 40 years later with loving families that we created and many professional accomplishments.

Friday night was the more formal get together at the Parsippany Hilton.  We buzzed around each other, positively gleeful.  “Oh its you!  How awesome is that?  Can you believe this?”

Saturday we gathered again, this time for a marathon of mini heart to heart conversations, in the high school cafeteria.  Couples and small groups huddled together, confiding.  They took their guitars and drums and we dove into music.  That’s our culture & heritage.  “I’m a doctor,” said George Friedman, “but this is what I really do,” as he points to his African drums.

I was dizzy with reminiscence and discovering new people simultaneously.

Sunday, today, I went to the Brooklyn Academy of Music Harvey Theater to see Raoul by James Thierree, the grandson of Charlie Chaplin.  In the program notes, James explains the play as  a lonely character, Raoul attacked shamelessly by a man claiming to be himself, Raoul.

Raoul attacks Raoul in his house, which becomes for me, the star of the show.  As the attack prevails, the house is attacked, diminishes, transforms, takes flight, turns into a star, and ultimately disappears.  I was transfixed, transported, enlightened.

It’s been a weekend of reflection.  The fragility of life’s beginnings, when viewed from a 40 year distance.  Followed by my flight from my beginnings.  I left Millburn behind and joined the circus, or rather, a theater group.  For 5 years I toured the world and then another 5 lived in NYC, a world of its own.  And I moved to Ossining, NY, to live in my house almost 30 years.  I started a business, then I started another business, and then I started another business.

I have knocked this house down, built it up, knocked it down and built it up again.  It’s been attacked by fire, by family division, and healed by miracles.  I lived on the top floor and then on the bottom and then back to the top, after changing it into something so beautiful I have to introduce myself to it all over again.

When I drove home from the reunion, it startled me how similar Ossining, NY is to Millburn, NJ.

My house is the star of my life.  I orbit around it.  Some of my classmates moved to Florida, California, Colorado.  I visited those places and thought, “This is nice.  I should live here.”

But I returned to my house.

My office is downstairs.  I’ve worked there since I moved here.  The first business I had was a dance company in NYC.  When I moved here, I opened an art gallery downstairs, my second business.  I got pretty sick from the stress of being a shop keeper.  It wasn’t right for me.  Too static.  Then I discovered what I was meant to do, my third business, healing.

When my classmates asked me, “What do you do?” I could tell them the easy part.  “I sell hope and return people to the energy of their youth, health and vitality.  Anti-aging is here.”

How could I tell them about the magic?  So here’s a little bit of what goes on downstairs.

I have degrees in various therapies that work both structurally, physically, and energetically.  I was working with, let’s call her Sue.  She’s lying on the massage table.  She has a cold and she’s exhausted.  I’m doing something called CranioSacral Therapy and Visceral Manipulation.

With these therapies I am ever so gently touching and tractioning bones, tissues, organs.  I feel that Sue is deeply tired.  Towards the end of the session, when Sue is very relaxed, I sit at her head with the center of the palm of my right hand against the top of her head.

I am aware of a time line that exists across the top of her head.  The heel of my hand, at the posterior or back of her head, represents her birth.  The tip of my middle finger, reaching just above her forehead, represents the present, now.  I am feeling for the energy, which should be moving forward, from front to back.

I am feeling for the stuck places.  I find one along this time line, at about a place where Sue would be 11 or 12 years old.  I let an image arise and I see Sue at that age facing her mother.  Sue is very angry.

I hear Sue’s mom apologize to Sue.  She is very sorry.  Sue softens and accepts her mother’s apology.  The stuck area opens and the energy is able to flow.

Sue is in a very deep relaxed state.  I wait until she starts to rouse and I say to her, “I am feeling something happened when you were 11 or 12 years old.  Maybe something with your mother.  I could be wrong, but did anything happen to you at that time, anything significant?”

Sue said, “Yes.  When we were little, my brother and I were sent to an orphanage because my mother couldn’t take care of us.  She was a single mother.  When I was 11, she came back to get us.  I thought I had cleared this stuff.”

“I’m sure you have cleared a lot of it,”  I said.  “I saw her apologizing to you and you were angry.  You forgave her.  Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” she said, “it does.  I was very angry.  It’s time I forgave her.”

“It’s funny,” she said.  “I just moved to North Carolina.  My brother lives there and now we live close together again.  We talked a lot about what happened to us.”

“That’s great that you talked about this with your brother,” I said.  “I’m sure that helped you both tremendously.  Maybe since you moved down there, your body is just cleaning up this last bit.”

“Yes, maybe,” she said.

When I got back from the reunion, there was an email from Sue waiting for me.  It said “My session with you was so fanatical!  My cold disappeared and I felt totally relaxed and unstressed  since.  I am blown away by it!”

Ahhh, magic.

Friday, Jessica was here.  She was VERY ill when I first started working with her 6 months ago.  She was a body builder and after years of drastic diets during competition seasons, she blew up with pain, inflammation, weight gain, headaches and fatigue.  The doctors were treating her thyroid, but the symptoms remained.  She had 2 small boys and she wasn’t able to enjoy them or her loving husband.  She hadn’t had her period in a year.  Life was a mess!

We put her on an aggressive supplement program and lymph drainage therapy.  She began to improve right away.  In 2 months, her periods returned to normal with no pms.  She didn’t have any pain or headaches.  She was working out and loosing weight and the edema was much less.  She felt good! and so relieved.

She came in last week, about 6 months after we started working together and she looked and felt fabulous.  She came in for a lymph drainage session.  I noticed that her liver was compensated.  I was working at her head and I thought to myself, “I wish I had an extra set of hands.  If I did, I’d work on her liver at the same time.”

As soon as that thought came into my head, an angel appeared in my imagination, assisting me, working her liver.  Her body began to process and heal.  She was in a deep relaxed state.

When she began to come out of it, I said to her, “This may sound crazy.  But, do you have anything going on with angels?”

She said, “Yes.  I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was small, as soon as I was able to talk, when my mother introduced me to her friends, she would say ‘This is my daughter, Jessica.'”

“And I would say, ‘I’m not her daughter.  I’m a child of God.  She’s just taking care of me.’  I always saw angels around me.”

So I told her how I saw the angel there assisting me.

Ahhh, magic.