If you could sense energy, what would you do with it? Really, think for a minute. What would you do with it?

Let me tell you a story. In May 2004, my brother had been in Iraq for just a couple of weeks serving in the Naval Reserves when I got a call from our dad. Yes, that kind of call. For the next few months, I did everything I could to be in hospitals in Bethesda, then Tampa to help him and my Rock-of-Gibraltar sister-in-law while he recovered from his wounds. This photograph was taken of Diana and Pete in Tampa during that first year of heavy lifting.

So, there I was a couple of years out of massage school and wanting to help. But, how do you help a guy when you are a Thai massage therapist, and he can’t move? Pete is paralyzed from the top of his shoulders down. On one particularly long day in the hospital, he was suffering unrelieved pain from shrapnel in his neck. Too risky to surgically remove it at that point.

I had no idea what to do. But, I had seen others lay their hands on people and do something good. No idea what, but hell. I had nothing else. So I wiggled myself into the space between his head board and the wall, being careful of the ventilator, monitors and alarms, and I gently cradled his dear, sweet head in my hands. And I stood there. And I waited. And I felt kind of silly. He was quiet, but not asleep. I thought he was probably being polite and figured at least I wasn’t hurting him.

Just as I was about to leave the poor guy alone and gently extract myself from the wires and tubes, I felt pounding between my hands. Shocked, I looked down expecting him to be having a seizure. He was perfectly still with a slight smile on his face. Did I say pounding?! Pounding. Thunderous. Aggressive. Pounding. And still he wasn’t fluttering an eyelid. It was like being punched in the palms for me. For him, not so much. After a few long, long minutes, it stopped. As it did, he opened his eyes and looked up at me with a grin. “Did you feel that?” he said. Then I gently turned his head to one side to remove one hand, a tiny movement, but is produced a loud, dry bony crack in his neck. Great, now I’ve totally broken his broken neck, I think. But he was quiet, so I slipped out of his room.

My sister-in-law came out a short while later smiling. He was asleep. Merciful sleep. Relieved of pain, at least for that day.

Clients who have known me since those days often kindly ask how Pete is doing. He is fabulous. My brother is a truly self-actualized human being. He is right where he is supposed to be, and he knows it. One of the first things he said to me, when he was able to speak, was this, “who could have known so much love was packed into that bomb.” That’s my baby brother.

So, why tell you this story? This kind of drama doesn’t happen every day (for which we are truly grateful). My point is this. I am no more sensitive, enlightened, or extraordinary than you are, dearest. You can turn on your light. You can sense energy. You can use it for yourself and others.