Spring is here. For me that means time for planting, mulching, motorcycle riding, outdoor walks with the pup, and thoughts of a country drive to a little town in New York: Lilydale. I have only visited there once, but that short visit had a huge impact.
Lilydale Assemblyis a community of spiritual mediums. Clairvoyants. Psychic Phenomena.
The hubby and I visited several years ago. I was pulled there to visit one place –their healing temple. Yes, I’m a skeptic, although I watchJohn Edwardand often think that he may the closest to a true psychic as anyone could be. Today’s article isn’t meant to necessarily open a debate about the authenticity of psychic mediums or this area of spirituality. I still debate the topics internally, and likely will do so even on the drive back to Lilydale. But, I’m still going back. I need to visit the temple again.
Awhile back, I was really struggling with my post-cervical cancer physical and emotional worries. Every three months, that visit to the doctor to find out if the cancer returned, was draining. At the same time, I was trying to come to terms with not ever becoming a mom, with the thought that I may die from cancer, with the guilt and disappointment delivered to me so early in my new marriage, and the guilt and disappointment I carried while feeling sorry for my parents who would never become grandparents because of me. A former colleague suggested a visit to the healing temple.
I was open to just about anything at that point and the hubby had visited Lilydale once as a teenager. He had a unique experience while there – something he carries with him to this day. He’s a larger skeptic than me, recognizing that most of what he experienced there was contrived. Yet, there was someone who connected with him, unprovoked and authentically. He was up for a drive into the country as well and we decided to make a day of it.
The temple only offers two services on Saturdays, one in the morning and one well into the evening. We left the house late, arguing a little, because I was certain we’d miss the morning service. The colleague who sent me to Lilydale, a practicer of Reiki, asked me to buy her a turkey feather at the Assembly’s gift shop while there. As we drove, the hubby and I were irritable and were rushing to get there on time. Out of nowhere, a flock of turkeys swooped down upon us. In front of the vehicle, on top of the vehicle. They forced us to stop, take a deep breath, and to slow down. Arriving at the healing temple, dead, wouldn’t be of any benefit. As a turkey feather wafted onto the dashboard, we giggled at the thought we were receiving a little pre-visit spiritual message from above.
We arrived at the temple just as the service began. The place was packed. A number of professional mediums were in attendance; their purpose being spiritual healing, one-on-one with visitors. We took our seats in a pew and the hubby selected someone. Within minutes, his session was finished. I couldn’t decide who I wanted to see. I watched the proceedings and selected a middle-aged gentleman. Unfortunately, so did many other people, so I had to wait and wait for a few moments with the fella. The hubby whispered, “Just pick someone else.” I shook my head. I needed to spend time with just this one person; I was drawn to him. The hubby went for a walk outside. I continued to wait.
Finally, it was my turn. I sat in a chair and didn’t speak. I was committed to not giving away any information. The medium ran his hands along the outside of my body, around its perimeter. When he came close to my arms, I felt true heat from his hands. He was kneeling at my feet. When he reached my stomach, he placed my hands upon it. He lifted his eyes to meet mine. We locked eyes powerfully. He spoke to me.
“This is where you’re carrying all your worries. You know the cancer is gone, don’t you?” he said softly. I refused to respond, not wanting to acknowledge his correctness. He spoke again. “You’re not here though because of the cancer.” My eyes filled with tears. He continued. “In fact, you really aren’t upset that you can’t have children. You’re upset with yourself because you don’t feel worse about it. You feel guilty because you’re just happy you’re still alive. You’re here today not to be healed from cancer. You’re here today to forgive yourself. So, look up to the sky and let it go today. Just let it go. It’s time to move on. It’s OK to move on.”
I was shaken. I was in tears. I couldn’t speak.
When I walked out the temple’s door, quite a sight, I think the hubby thought the guy told me I had months to live or something similar. We walked for hours. At some point, in amidst the silly “performances” of really bad spiritualists, I told him what the medium had said. The hubby merely shook his head and said, “Then, let it go, Sunshine. Let it go.”
We had a nice lunch, attended other events around the Assembly, and stopped at the gift shop to look for a packaged turkey feather. We looked and looked. We asked the clerk. She delivered the only one left in the place. It looked fake compared to the one that had been ripped for the pillaging turkey by our car, but we bought it nonetheless.
That day, I learned a lot about myself. I learned how to let go. As I continue to battle the MonSter, I feel as if I need a little spiritual healing again. There are some new issues I need to resolve, to release. So, hubby, gas up the motorcycle, grab the helmets. We’ll take the bike this time. I hear turkeys steer clear of loud pipes.
Spring is here. For me that means time for planting, mulching, motorcycle riding, outdoor walks with the pup, and thoughts of a country drive to a little town in New York: Lilydale. I have only visited there once, but that short visit had a huge impact.
Lilydale Assemblyis a community of spiritual mediums. Clairvoyants. Psychic Phenomena.
The hubby and I visited several years ago. I was pulled there to visit one place –their healing temple. Yes, I’m a skeptic, although I watchJohn Edwardand often think that he may the closest to a true psychic as anyone could be. Today’s article isn’t meant to necessarily open a debate about the authenticity of psychic mediums or this area of spirituality. I still debate the topics internally, and likely will do so even on the drive back to Lilydale. But, I’m still going back. I need to visit the temple again.
Awhile back, I was really struggling with my post-cervical cancer physical and emotional worries. Every three months, that visit to the doctor to find out if the cancer returned, was draining. At the same time, I was trying to come to terms with not ever becoming a mom, with the thought that I may die from cancer, with the guilt and disappointment delivered to me so early in my new marriage, and the guilt and disappointment I carried while feeling sorry for my parents who would never become grandparents because of me. A former colleague suggested a visit to the healing temple.
I was open to just about anything at that point and the hubby had visited Lilydale once as a teenager. He had a unique experience while there – something he carries with him to this day. He’s a larger skeptic than me, recognizing that most of what he experienced there was contrived. Yet, there was someone who connected with him, unprovoked and authentically. He was up for a drive into the country as well and we decided to make a day of it.
The temple only offers two services on Saturdays, one in the morning and one well into the evening. We left the house late, arguing a little, because I was certain we’d miss the morning service. The colleague who sent me to Lilydale, a practicer of Reiki, asked me to buy her a turkey feather at the Assembly’s gift shop while there. As we drove, the hubby and I were irritable and were rushing to get there on time. Out of nowhere, a flock of turkeys swooped down upon us. In front of the vehicle, on top of the vehicle. They forced us to stop, take a deep breath, and to slow down. Arriving at the healing temple, dead, wouldn’t be of any benefit. As a turkey feather wafted onto the dashboard, we giggled at the thought we were receiving a little pre-visit spiritual message from above.
We arrived at the temple just as the service began. The place was packed. A number of professional mediums were in attendance; their purpose being spiritual healing, one-on-one with visitors. We took our seats in a pew and the hubby selected someone. Within minutes, his session was finished. I couldn’t decide who I wanted to see. I watched the proceedings and selected a middle-aged gentleman. Unfortunately, so did many other people, so I had to wait and wait for a few moments with the fella. The hubby whispered, “Just pick someone else.” I shook my head. I needed to spend time with just this one person; I was drawn to him. The hubby went for a walk outside. I continued to wait.
Finally, it was my turn. I sat in a chair and didn’t speak. I was committed to not giving away any information. The medium ran his hands along the outside of my body, around its perimeter. When he came close to my arms, I felt true heat from his hands. He was kneeling at my feet. When he reached my stomach, he placed my hands upon it. He lifted his eyes to meet mine. We locked eyes powerfully. He spoke to me.
“This is where you’re carrying all your worries. You know the cancer is gone, don’t you?” he said softly. I refused to respond, not wanting to acknowledge his correctness. He spoke again. “You’re not here though because of the cancer.” My eyes filled with tears. He continued. “In fact, you really aren’t upset that you can’t have children. You’re upset with yourself because you don’t feel worse about it. You feel guilty because you’re just happy you’re still alive. You’re here today not to be healed from cancer. You’re here today to forgive yourself. So, look up to the sky and let it go today. Just let it go. It’s time to move on. It’s OK to move on.”
I was shaken. I was in tears. I couldn’t speak.
When I walked out the temple’s door, quite a sight, I think the hubby thought the guy told me I had months to live or something similar. We walked for hours. At some point, in amidst the silly “performances” of really bad spiritualists, I told him what the medium had said. The hubby merely shook his head and said, “Then, let it go, Sunshine. Let it go.”
We had a nice lunch, attended other events around the Assembly, and stopped at the gift shop to look for a packaged turkey feather. We looked and looked. We asked the clerk. She delivered the only one left in the place. It looked fake compared to the one that had been ripped for the pillaging turkey by our car, but we bought it nonetheless.
That day, I learned a lot about myself. I learned how to let go. As I continue to battle the MonSter, I feel as if I need a little spiritual healing again. There are some new issues I need to resolve, to release. So, hubby, gas up the motorcycle, grab the helmets. We’ll take the bike this time. I hear turkeys steer clear of loud pipes.