“All is not as it appears"
In another session at my house, Massie walked into my office and turned to her forty year old Spanish friend who looked very worried and tired. “Barbara will know.
You’ll see. It’ll be OK.”
The woman produced a photo of her husband of twelve years. “He’s the head minister
of a huge church. No one believes me,” she sobbed.
I took the photo and covered the right side, then the left side of his face. The feeling
coming from his right side (his work life as a famous minister) was confident and
determined. However, the left side (his personal life with his wife and children) was
completely different — cruel, brutal, and calculating.
“He’s hurting you and the kids, isn’t he?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes. And no one sees it.” she cried. “Everyone thinks he’s so wonderful,
and the children have welts on their backs from him beating them.” We spent
the next hour talking about her getting psychological and legal help for her and the
children.
He was a street angel and a home devil.
Secrets
“My husband, Jake, is lazy. He’s not earning enough money to support us. He does . .” and Lacey continued for twenty minutes criticizing her husband.
When I took his photo, I saw a man who looked sad and work worn, but was not otherwise negative.
Pondering his face as she spoke, I looked up to see her glassy focus, the wide area
between her eyes and ears (indicating a person who would overindulge in the senses),
and her tiny ears. I felt an intuition move across my heart in the calm, peaceful way
it does when something is accurate. Not all her ‘cards’ were on the table, and the
‘excess’ in her face had something to do with drugs and alcohol.
I leaned in to ask, “I hear that you wish to leave Jake. However, will leaving him solve
your cocaine addiction?”
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes bugged out, “How did you know I’m a cocaine
addict?” she stammered.
I said, “The same way I know…” and I continued to outline other aspects of her life
as she nodded slowly. Then we spoke about her starting Narcotics Anonymous
You’ll see. It’ll be OK.”
The woman produced a photo of her husband of twelve years. “He’s the head minister
of a huge church. No one believes me,” she sobbed.
I took the photo and covered the right side, then the left side of his face. The feeling
coming from his right side (his work life as a famous minister) was confident and
determined. However, the left side (his personal life with his wife and children) was
completely different — cruel, brutal, and calculating.
“He’s hurting you and the kids, isn’t he?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes. And no one sees it.” she cried. “Everyone thinks he’s so wonderful,
and the children have welts on their backs from him beating them.” We spent
the next hour talking about her getting psychological and legal help for her and the
children.
He was a street angel and a home devil.
Secrets
“My husband, Jake, is lazy. He’s not earning enough money to support us. He does . .” and Lacey continued for twenty minutes criticizing her husband.
When I took his photo, I saw a man who looked sad and work worn, but was not otherwise negative.
Pondering his face as she spoke, I looked up to see her glassy focus, the wide area
between her eyes and ears (indicating a person who would overindulge in the senses),
and her tiny ears. I felt an intuition move across my heart in the calm, peaceful way
it does when something is accurate. Not all her ‘cards’ were on the table, and the
‘excess’ in her face had something to do with drugs and alcohol.
I leaned in to ask, “I hear that you wish to leave Jake. However, will leaving him solve
your cocaine addiction?”
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes bugged out, “How did you know I’m a cocaine
addict?” she stammered.
I said, “The same way I know…” and I continued to outline other aspects of her life
as she nodded slowly. Then we spoke about her starting Narcotics Anonymous
(a 12-step program) to work on her drug habit, which she thought was “hidden.”
An Upscale Hair Salon
The red and green ornaments for Christmas were scattered throughout the large
room. Festive music played, and chocolate desserts were laid out on long tables. But
no one was moving. Forty people gathered behind me to listen as I read one face after
another. Laughing, good humored snickers and some applause resounded behind
me.
An older gentleman sat down, and I focused on his big money nose, bushy eyebrows,
and determined chin. Definitely an entrepreneur! A man whose nose told me he was
very wealthy. I went with my intuitive hunch, “John, does the word ‘franchise’ mean
anything to you?”
Uproarious laughter surrounded me in stereo. “I guess that means ‘Yes?’” my eyebrows
went up. His wife turned to me, “He owns 80 franchises.”
Blessings of a Saint
An older woman sat down quietly on the edge of a chair. It was a crowded room with
a cloud of smoke and loud talking, so I could barely hear her voice. Her radiant eyes,
clear and deep, revealed a spiritual seeker. Full cheeks showed deep feeling, and her
bone structure was narrow and delicate. All these features showed she was deeply
religious and devotional. As we spoke, my intuition became alert, and I perceived the
presence of a saint next to her.
“Do you have any connection with Padre Pio?” I asked.
“Padre Pio!!” she exclaimed as I heard her thick Italian accent. “Why he baptized my mother and father and healed my brother! I grew up in the town where he lived. I love him!”
“He’s here blessing you,” I smiled. We sat and shared the moment of his
sacred presence.
An Upscale Hair Salon
The red and green ornaments for Christmas were scattered throughout the large
room. Festive music played, and chocolate desserts were laid out on long tables. But
no one was moving. Forty people gathered behind me to listen as I read one face after
another. Laughing, good humored snickers and some applause resounded behind
me.
An older gentleman sat down, and I focused on his big money nose, bushy eyebrows,
and determined chin. Definitely an entrepreneur! A man whose nose told me he was
very wealthy. I went with my intuitive hunch, “John, does the word ‘franchise’ mean
anything to you?”
Uproarious laughter surrounded me in stereo. “I guess that means ‘Yes?’” my eyebrows
went up. His wife turned to me, “He owns 80 franchises.”
Blessings of a Saint
An older woman sat down quietly on the edge of a chair. It was a crowded room with
a cloud of smoke and loud talking, so I could barely hear her voice. Her radiant eyes,
clear and deep, revealed a spiritual seeker. Full cheeks showed deep feeling, and her
bone structure was narrow and delicate. All these features showed she was deeply
religious and devotional. As we spoke, my intuition became alert, and I perceived the
presence of a saint next to her.
“Do you have any connection with Padre Pio?” I asked.
“Padre Pio!!” she exclaimed as I heard her thick Italian accent. “Why he baptized my mother and father and healed my brother! I grew up in the town where he lived. I love him!”
“He’s here blessing you,” I smiled. We sat and shared the moment of his
sacred presence.
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