This material is copyrighted by M. Kirby Moore. Reproduction without permission is prohibited. Thank you for respecting my creative property. And thank you also for visiting!
My suspicion is that this will be in a book soon… You’ll see – it is worth a read 🙂
Many people ask me – “Kirby, when did you start to pick up bodywork?”
This is especially true of the people with whom we discover powerful insights (some might say miracles rarely get worked – but not by me). In this case I am describing a miracle as unexpected grace and radical transformation in a relatively short amount of time. Not everyone is ready for this, but for those who are ready to change, to shift, to release, to transform themselves toward life enhancing attitudes and beliefs, then miracles are possible. It requires an openness and an adaptability. If someone is very rigid, then it requires that they are truly in a state of crisis to be able to change. But other people desperately want to heal and transform (without an overt crisis being their situation), but they just haven’t met the right causes and conditions (meaning meeting rare practitioners who have been mentored and molded into pure ethical healers and compassionate community builders – whether inner or outer community).
So when did I begin my journey as a healer? This is my story:
Back in 2002, February to be exact, I was attempting to act like a typical 22-year-old young male. Except I was barely fooling anyone – I drove a 1984 Brown Volvo tank (840 station wagon), and yes from time to time I drove it fast, but basically I was one of those people who I describe above as desperately seeking my truth and subconsciously seeking to know how to heal myself. But there were little signs of my potential as a healer and as a health educator (in my very early 20’s, I went around proselytizing about the benefits of hydration for instance, going so far as to even coach my dentist and doctor on the benefits of drinking enough water).
Back in the fall of 2001, I had taken my first philosophy class at the community college: Ethics. And this was a mind opener for me. I was forced to analyze the Christian values I had been parroting from my parents, to rethink them and to really question any kind of foundation I thought I had laid in my psyche. I was also forced to analyze why I had joined the U.S. military – I was just in the Army Reserves, not full time active duty, so I had been able to hide the fact that I wasn’t really a soldier, I definitely wasn’t a killer and I had never really stopped to consider what I would do if a person was at the end of my assault rifle… Eee gads! In the worst case scenario, I had been hiding this from myself most of all. I’ll tell the military story another time (another couple of chapters of my early history as someone growing into their humanity).
Long story short, I was coming off months of looking into my mind and heart and questioning many of the assumptions and beliefs I thought I had firmly put in place. This was a radical time for me – a time of reorienting, a time of discovery and a time to start to get to know myself. Who am I?
So there I was in February of 2002, not knowing something major was about to happen in my life, that would shake me to my core – psycho-spiritually and on all levels to be honest.
Toward the end of that month, I had a dream one night: in the dream, a voice explicitly told me, “You have appendicitis.” That was weird. I don’t believe anything like that had ever happened to me up to this point – a prescient dream (since that time, they happen occasionally). Appendicitis? What did that mean?
I called my mother who at the time was a practicing RN. When I told her what I had dreamed, she asked if I had several of the classic appendicitis symptoms. And I said “No” to all of them because I hadn’t experienced them yet.
Now, remember that I was attempting to act like a typically young male? Well that next night I went to a friend’s house to play cards – various types of poker and spades, etc. At that get together, I recall drinking one large beer – back in those days the company Fosters made a beer that was at least 24 ounces. We knick-named it an oil can. I came in a big blue aluminum can.
Back in those days, I was able to hold my alcohol, so one (large) beer barely got me buzzing. I say this for a reason. After playing cards, and sobering up enough to drive, I went home and lay down. Unexpectedly, in the middle of the night – around 2 or 3 am, I vomited for no reason. Yes I have been sick when I mix alcohol types before – if I drink whisky and then have a beer, that was bad news! (This may have been from my Native American blood but more on this another time.) But this was different. I was cogent and sharp and clear minded and I vomited a couple hours after the alcohol had cleared my system.
That was weird – one of the symptoms of appendicitis by the way is vomiting unexpectedly and without known cause. It was just a quick little heave ho and then back to normal, or so I thought.
That day, I began to feel an odd sensation in the lower right quadrant of my abdomen. Back then, my pain tolerance was off the charts – I could insert another story here but let’s just say that I rarely ever admitted to something internal being painful, especially when I was substance or pain reliever free. For some reason, taking NSAID’s like ibuprofen made the pain much much worse for me.
Another symptom of appendicitis is unexplained pain in the lower right quadrant. So now I had checked off two items from the symptom list my mother had verbally transmitted to me.
Now I was getting concerned. I think I went to class as usual that day. Remember, I did not experience pain in the typical human way.
But the curious and odd sensation continued. So that night I called my mother saying I was going to check into the Emergency Room to tell them about my situation. So of course she said she would pack a few things and be there soon.
Into the hospital I went. I should mention that the local, large medical system here in town is a teaching university hospital. This will come into the story at least once.
To be continued… (again, you will definitely want to read the next installments, as this is the beginning of my ability to assist others with grace and radical transformation as not only being possible, but as my only agenda for working with them if they want to, when they are ready – in other words, in order to work miracles with people in my opinion requires something miraculous to happen to you first) 🙂
Thank you for reading and if you are able to, please donate to my blogging fund:
Donation to Kirby’s blogging efforts
Hi dear Readers, Help me buy tea so I can continue blogging. So if you enjoy what you are reading, please make a little donation. Thank you very much!