John of God, by Johanna Courtleigh

March 22, 2012

A journey apart

Monday morning. I arrive Brazil after a couple of long, blurred days of travel. Portland—Dallas—Miami—Brasilia. Arriving, unfortunately, several days before my bag, which has decided to take a little tour of the country’s airports, alone, without me!

I’m sure I’m a bit of a curiosity, hot and sweaty, trudging this little one-horse town, in jeans, black boots, and a sleeveless top I finally purchase after it becomes clear my bag won’t be getting here any time soon. Hot. Bright. The sky, a moody squint, smearing into blackness. And pounding thunder. Shocks of lightning. Wild frenzied rain. Stray dogs wander the muddy streets. A small herd of Brahmin cows scuttle and nudge down a narrow lane. Chickens. Goats. Men on bikes, dodging the splattering potholes.

Travel can be about flowing with “what is.” Or “isn’t,” as the case may be. So Tuesday afternoon I finally find a place that takes credit cards—the money exchange place has been all out of cash for days!—and spend questionable prices on a white outfit and pair of cheap flip-flops, so I will be presentable at the Casa de Dom Ignacio tomorrow morning.

John of God is here Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, and receives all who arrive for healing, hope, spiritual growth. Sometimes, literally thousands in a day. They come in large busloads, or like me, to stay weeks or more. So far, I’ve met people who’ve been here for months, sometimes coming back again and again for the gentle love and quiet healing of this place.

Map of sorrow, hope

Wednesday, 7:30 a.m. A sea of people, all in white, flow toward the Casa, on foot, by wheelchair, on crutches. There are protocols. First, I go to a translator, who writes down my concerns in Portuguese. We are allowed to request healing for up to three things at a time. Mine have changed in the middle of the night, as I feel my heart thudding, and think, “I have plenty of time, and will bring my other issues to him later.”

I tell the translator, “Chronic insomnia, heart issues and family patterning challenges.” I do this as a prayer not only for myself, but for my lineage. Our guide, Emma, told me she once asked for the healing of depression throughout her ancestry, and saw her siblings go through significant changes . . .

We crowd into the open Assembly Room, waiting as long introductions and prayers are made in Portuguese, German, French, Spanish, English. Much is said that is not translated, but the feeling is very heartful and beautiful. A palpable energy of love that we begin to sink into as we prepare and are prepared for our encounter and deepening union with the Divine.

We come from all over the world, from all backgrounds and economies and distresses. Weary, sorrowed, hopeful, hopeless. The beautiful black man with the large growth jutting out of his neck. The little pale girl, splayed in her parent’s arms, covered everywhere with a weepy rash that keeps her whining and itching, tortured. The ashen ones, spent and exhausted. The ones in wheelchairs, or hobbling on crutches, canes. And the ones like me, whose difficulties cannot so easily be seen. We come to this one, John of God, who has healed literally millions. I am so moved. And feel a sense of deep gratitude and compassion for our collective humanity, the vulnerability of being embodied, as I look around, and wait for my group—the “first time line”—to be called.

Miracles into mainstream

Emma is with me.  She will be our guide for the two weeks. She has been part of the Casa, and in and out of Brazil, for over ten years now, and has made a film and written two books about John of God. She is considered one of the Casa “mediums” and has been chosen to bring the awareness of this healing to the western world. Recently, she brought a group of medical professionals to the Casa, and will do so again next fall, growing a community of healers who are open to attending illness “outside the traditional AMA box.”

Things are being healed here that have not been helped elsewhere. AIDS, cancers, tumors, depression. There is a room full of crutches and wheelchairs, left by those who have left Abadiania healed. There are many miracle stories.

I knew Emma twenty-plus years ago in California. A psychologist, from whom I took the Avatar program. She has organized the whole trip, and will care for us through the process. She will go through the line with us, to help translate, and listen, so we can understand our instructions.

Ready to heal

We are a curious group. Five, so far. A man from Sicily, in a wheelchair, and his attendant, a man from Mexico. They are old friends and both live in the US now. A man from Togo, who also now lives in the US. And a doctor from San Diego—a woman who has mostly done plastic surgery, including much prosthetic surgery for breast cancer survivors. She is an expert on breast cancer and has written a book about prevention. Others will join us next week.

Hundreds line up when we are called, but the line goes relatively quickly.  We approach, and I hand the translator my slip of paper, which he reads to John of God.

# #

Part 1 of 3. Follow along next week in the Waking Up series to read what happens next in Johanna’s journey.

Johanna Courtleigh MA, is a Licensed Professional Counselor, Certified Hypnotherapist and HypnoFertility Therapist, and Certified Oneness Awakening Trainer through the Oneness University in India. Her work seeks to help people heal from the mistruths they’ve been taught, and to awaken a core of deeper reverence, self-love, awareness, empowerment, ease and integrity—with themselves, and in their relationships with others. She is passionate about helping create a more peaceful world, and helping her clients become happier, healthier and more “in love” as a state of Being. She is available for in-person consultations in her office near Portland, Oregon, and over the phone and via Skype.

# #

Speaking of miracles, the 7-day Wake Up has been off the charts expansive and beautiful in its results.

You can still join us. 4:00 a.m. PDT. March 20-27. Wake up with us + watch your life pop open. Cost: Zero dollars and a few dawns. Reach out —> Hi [at] StoryCharmer [dot] com

Receive the Wake Up Kit. Get on the call. Or skip the call! And wake up anyway.

# #

Story Charmer’s Waking Up Series is the month of March in meditation on WAKING UP. What does it mean? What growth does it spur? What wonder and challenge? GUEST POSTS and personal queries will appear here throughout the month. Read all the posts in the series here…

If you’re spurred by what you read, and you want to write a post in reply, email me (hi) at (storycharmer) dot (com).

Join the conversation. Leave a comment. Write a post.

Let’s wake up together.

{ 3 trackbacks }

John of God (Pt. 2), by Johanna Courtleigh
March 25, 2012 at 6:30 pm
John of God (Pt. 3), by Johanna Courtleigh
March 29, 2012 at 6:39 pm
Love Song For No One In Particular
March 31, 2012 at 5:33 pm

{ 0 comments… add one now }

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

Previous post:

Next post: