t was when I cut my finger doing a carpentry project
that I learned my first principle of spiritual healing. I
wrapped my finger in a Kleenex and was about to continue
working when my teacher interrupted me. Not only did he want
me to wash it and put on a band-aid, but also he wanted me
to sit down and rest a bit. He explained,
"Your cut finger is a message to you to slow down.
Take some time out to rest for a minute. Not only will it
help your finger to begin to heal, but it will give you a
chance to get a fresh start yourself."
Some years later I got the lesson repeated to me. I had a
headache and asked a teacher for an aspirin. She gave me
some, but then added,
"These pills will only stop you from feeling the
pain. Better close your eyes and relax for awhile and see if
you can discover what is causing the pain. It’s a message
to you that you need to understand."
These simple lessons in healing contained the seeds of
some profound principles. We can perceive illness, or
accidents--any disruptions in harmony, for that matter, that
cause us to pause with concern--as messages, angels if you
wish, to alert us that something is wrong and that we need
to get back on track. Rather than simply fix the symptom,
true healing means understanding the message of the
symptom--treating the symptom as a symbol maybe--and
responding to what is learned. Healing is also more than a
mechanical response. We can put on the band aid, but we don’t
do the healing ourselves, the cut heals itself. Healing is
an expression of the life force, not of our own doing. Yet,
we are of the life force, so we do play a role, somehow. It
is my finger, and when the finger heals itself, it is
"me" that is healing. There’s a mystery there,
one that ties me into the life force--it is beyond me, yet
of me, part of me.
Healing as a spiritual event, a physical event, or a
psychological event--these are dimensions of the same thing.
I remember the mystic scientist Emanuel Swedenborg, who
valued the principle of "correspondences"--what we
usually think of as the ancient principle, "as above,
so below." One of his expressions of this principle was
that when someone laughed, the angels sang. Another way of
saying this is that events at a physical level have their
corresponding events at a psychological level, and there is
a corresponding pattern of events at a spiritual level. One
level mirrors the others and can be read as symbolic of the
others. In terms of healing, this means that spiritual
healing has its psychological as well as physical
correspondence. One can approach the spiritual through the
other levels. I can put a band-aid on my finger (physical)
and rest (psychological) while the finger draws upon the
patterning of the life force to achieve the healing.
Sometimes I am dismayed at the assumption of some people
who are "into spiritual healing" that they can
leave psychology behind. To them, any suggestion of the
necessity of psychological work as part of their spiritual
healing is to impugn the integrity of their spiritual
maturity. In their minds, they have transcended psychology,
and need only invoke the spirit of healing to effect their
cure. To these people, especially, and to others I would
recommend the book, A Psychology of Spiritual Healing
(Chrysalis Books).
The author, Eugene Taylor, Ph.D., is a historian of
psychiatry, who has written several books on consciousness
and spirituality. In a treatise that is both personal and
scholarly, he presents his vision of how the psychological
level of healing can make us receptive to the spiritual
level of healing, and how the spiritual level affects the
psychological. Emanuel Swedenborg, who serves as a major
inspirational source for the book, would have approved of
Dr. Taylor’s multi-level approach.
Taylor offers some "laws" of spiritual healing
that can be both understood psychologically and experienced
as a mystery. These sentences are worth contemplating: Love
is the only answer. We are never alone in the universe. We
should cultivate the higher emotions. Spontaneity is an
important key to recovery. We should always remain loyal to
something. Illness can be creative. Pain is friendly.
Winning may really mean winning over the mind of discord
within oneself. Sickness can be a message about unfinished
business.
One of the principles Taylor discusses that I find most
interesting is that all healing involves relationship.
Re-establishing a healthy relationship with God, or the life
force, finds its correspondence in improving our
relationships with others. We can’t "do" healing
and we need to recognize our inter-dependence with life
beyond our own boundaries. We need to be humble enough to
accept help from others. We also need to be realistic and
accept the fact that others have a need for us to be well.
Those who have been blessed by experiences of healing are
often inspired, if not always obligated, to pass it along to
others. Healing is a gift we share with each other, both as
its own form of spiritual experience, and as a practical
testimony of the mysterious blessing of life itself. That’s
good psychology!