Can You Heal Me Now?

A few years ago I was on vacation with a couple of friends in spectacular Sedona, Arizona. We were at one of the famed “vortexes” in the red rock hills of Sedona, where there are widely publicized energy centers where people can actually feel the flow of some unique or specific energy source to varying degrees. Many have reported profound spiritual experiences there and/or have claimed to receive remarkable physical or emotional healings when they have located the vortexes.

So my friends and I were trying to follow someone’s directions to this particular vortex and not having much luck. The vortex seemed to be eluding us. After stumbling around the mountain for a while, one of my buddies called this friend of his on his cell phone to ask for more precise directions to the sought-after spot.

As he was on the phone, asking for guidance to this vortex, my other friend and I were joking around about the difficulty we were having finding this energy center and trying to get to it via someone’s cell phone . . . “Can you heal me now??” I joked to my friend on the phone as he was writing down the new directions.

We eventually found the vortex although none of us had what I would call a transformational experience there. For some reason I was remembering that trip a few days ago and something about the whole experience made me start to wonder about the process of actively and vigorously seeking something we really want that we can’t seem to find. We so train ourselves to believe that the only way to really have what we want is to go get it, and not to rest until we’ve hunted it down and held it in our hot little hands.

“Can you heal me now? Can you heal me now?” The question in that context was a joke, but I’ve heard a variation of those words ringing in my ears many times when I was frantically looking for healing of some sort. . . or looking for some other need to be met. Can you help me now? Can you give me what I want now? Can I have it now?”

I suspected that The Shower Team might have something to say about asking those kinds of questions . . . Much to no one’s surprise, They did.

We love the questions you raise for the opportunity they sometimes give us to steer your thinking in a different and hopefully more helpful direction. The fact of the matter is that when you are asking about healing, you are usually not in a very good position to be receiving it. Same thing applies to pretty much anything that you might be asking for. There is what we would call “asking mode” and then there is what we call “receiving mode” and it is relatively uncommon for you to be in both modes at once.

In other words, when you are asking for healing or for whatever else it may be that the contrast or variety of your experience has caused you to ask for, you are generally too focused in that moment upon the absence of what is desired to be able to allow the receiving of what is desired. For example, when you are asking for healing, you are generally focused primarily upon the experience of being sick. You are thinking of your sickness or your pain or your discomfort—anything but the wellness or the ease or the comfort that you desire. It is only when you are able to turn your attention more in the direction of that wellness or that ease or that comfort that you begin to move into receiving mode and to allow what you want to come into your experience. Another way to put it would be that as long as you are thinking about being sick, then you are resisting being well.

The key here is always the extent to which resistance is present relative to your desire. When you are focused upon your hurting, then the desire for relief is great . . . but it is very difficult for you to allow the relief to come until your focus begins to shift away from the hurting. You used to experience this personally on a number of occasions when you noticed that you had a headache (Note to your self: Have you noticed how rarely you have headaches lately?). The more you noticde the headache, the more your head would hurt . . . but on occasion, something would distract you from the pain you were feeling, and for as long as that distraction prevailed, you actually forgot that your head hurt. In effect, your headache disappeared because you shifted your focus to something else in such a way that you were no longer resisting the wellness or the ease that you were asking for.

We would encourage you to remember this relative to all your desires. When you are in the middle of asking for whatever it is that you want . . . you are generally focused primarily upon the lack of what you want. It is only when your attention turns toward something that feels better that you begin to experience the receiving of whatever it is you desire.

It is has been offered to you a number of times that when you ask, it is given, and this is entirely true. However, the way that you often experience the fulfilling of your desire is that when you stop asking, it is given. In other words, when you stop pushing against the absence of what you want, and relax again into the knowledge—always available to you—that all is well, then and only then do you allow what you have asked for to flow into your experience.

In short, the healing comes when you remember that you don’t need it, and therefore stop crying out for it. And while we acknowledge that this seems contradictory to you, we challenge you to put it to the test . . . and instead of repeatedly querying the Universe with, “Can you heal me now?” decide that instead of desperately hunting down the vortex you imagine you need, you will focus upon the beauty of the scenery and the satisfaction of the hike . . . and notice the wellness or ease or comfort or fulfillment that appeared when you stopped the needy searching for what you seemed to lack.

I take some perverse pleasure in hearing them admit that they like messing with me. Too bad I wasn’t hearing from Them so directly back in Sedona. . . they could’ve saved us an hour or two on that hillside.

But the better point is that we had a grand time on that hillside, vortex or no vortex. It was a magnificent view of those majestic red rock mountains and evergreen valleys and whether we were trekking around searching for energy centers or just gasping at the unbelievable beauty. . . we were feeling pretty connected. There were blissful moments up there—as many of them as we would allow ourselves to have.

I know from experience how hard it can be to be in pain and turn away from the pain toward something that feels better. I also can remember many many times when I’ve done exactly that—even before I had The Shower Team encouraging me to do so. It works. I’ve forgotten many a headache that way. Sometimes a little aspirin didn’t hurt either, but the point is I eventually focused on something besides the healing I was asking for . . . and the hurting I was experiencing . . . and what I got was sweet relief.

Sometimes I still feel like I’m on that cell phone calling from the mountainside asking, “Can you heal me now??” But as soon as I stop asking the question. . . turn toward something—anything—that feels better . . . the question and the reason for asking it are usually forgotten.

It’s the best way I’ve found to spell R-E-L-I-E-F. That leaves me feeling much readier to relax about where my vortex may be . . . and just enjoy the hike, which in turn leaves me feeling not only relieved, but for the moment—complete.


About Dan

Published novelist, poet, essayist, copywriter, photographer and college educator. Visit me at

Posted on September 13, 2007, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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