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meeting a healer
The day I sat with Samar Ajami.

On days when everything felt like a puzzle without answers, I suddenly found myself embraced by comforting arms. Those arms were destined to alter the course of my life. When we believe we can no longer endure, perhaps God, the Creator, the Source of life, can.

And He speaks through people (as I explain in the article "Divine Guidance - our companions on the Spiritual Journey")

Reflecting on Jason Shulman's profound essay 'First Light', found within his enlightening work 'Beyond the Now', I'm reminded of his insightful guidance: “Because of the holographic nature of the world — which sometimes shows itself as synchronicity, accident, hunches and intuitions — the world begins to show its cooperation, offering ways pleasant and unpleasant, into the inner chambers of our being.” This sentiment resonated deeply with me, as I've also explored similar themes, as stated in my previous piece "The Sacred Calling within us".

As I journey through different topics, each fragment adds to my understanding, ultimately leading me to the same conclusion: everything is interconnected and intertwined. In the vast expanse of the Universe, every form of existence experiences a constant cycle of creation and renewal, affirming the omnipresent nature of the Source and reminding us of the creative spark within us all.

Returning to those days, life seemed rather bleak to me. The internal chaos had an extraordinary power to captivate my mind, making me live more within it than in interaction with reality. And the external chaos presented itself to me through various episodes that blocked the course of a possible natural path. I often found myself getting lost in days, dissatisfaction being the state that most described my emotional aspect, until my body began to speak of exhaustion. Thus, I increasingly encountered profound sadness, fatigue, boredom, nonsense, and slowly the weakening of my body's immunity.

I was searching for something I couldn't explain, and I wished for at least one person to understand without me having to explain too much, or at least to receive my burdened lamentation with a little more ease. For years, I sought, yet each time I reached the point where I hoped things would improve, there was always something lacking in fulfillment. The sensation of "this is not everything" would resurface, gradually pushing me towards the same future projection. It felt like an eternal pursuit towards an unknown feeling, something intangible, beyond reach, or even something that could simply comfort my soul.

Observers perceived me as they always had: a beacon of happiness; the corporate environment had yet to detect anything beyond my occasional bouts of laryngitis, and with each passing month in the city of my dreams, my aspirations felt more hollow. Somehow, there was a sense of disconnection. Things seemed fleeting, rushed, and often ended in a vague ambiguity. Engaging in the same repetitive activities, frequenting familiar places and scenes, even capturing identical moments in photographs and spending hours on repetitive topics, made me feel an overwhelming emptiness that seemed impossible to fill, as I returned to my bed and contemplated the passing of time.

It was as though nothing had made an impression, as though nothing lingered. Like a life that couldn't be narrated, because unforgettable memories were so scarce. In this frantic pursuit, I also found myself breathless. Yet, what I hadn't realized then was that the intensity of that pain was a wake-up call, urging me to go where I was meant to be and to pursue what I was passionately calling out for.

During a somber April of those bygone years,, lying on a hospital bed, a compassionate doctor with a pronounced Turkish accent assured me that he has exhausted all efforts, leaving behind only myself and self-love in the quiet aftermath.

After a long moment of contemplation, he imparted a final counsel as he shut the door: "Kizim, what afflicts you does not necessitate medical intervention. You yearn for inner tranquility, and perhaps a sense of purpose as well. All things will unfold in their own time. Now, rise and restore your trust in yourself and your faith in God."

I lingered for another night, a night during which I placed my trust in a stranger from the same city, albeit separated by a potent virtual platform.

He directed me to where I needed to be. To her. To Samar Ajami.

Calling her wasn't an easy task. In fact, everything felt incredibly surreal. There was a palpable air of mystery overshadowing even the most mundane interactions from the very first "hello". Despite my background in navigating human emotions and psychology, the concept of a "healer" remained elusive to me. This ambiguity stirred both receptiveness and reluctance within me as I ascended the floors of that towering skyscraper.

I attempted to assemble in my mind all the information I had come across about "healers", yet everything seemed obscure. I extracted limited insights from anecdotes shared by individuals who had undergone healing journeys, leaving me devoid of concrete understanding. The terms "healer," "healings," and "healing process" felt foreign to me. Nevertheless, I found myself being drawn into a realm where the sensations were strangely familiar. It was as though only my mind remained indifferent to the terminology, while every fiber of my being urged me to proceed with assurance.

And so, I ventured forth...

There is a growing narrative surrounding individuals whose ethereal presence precedes their every movement and spoken word upon entering a room, weaving tales of enchantment and mystery. Amidst that handshake, within the warmth of that smile and the tranquility of her countenance, an innate intimacy between two souls blossomed. Her gaze gently unveiled the journey towards vulnerability for me. Everything appeared radiant yet unfamiliar, making it difficult to accurately articulate my emotions at that moment. I now perceive it as an instant soulful recognition.

My emotions overwhelmed me to the point where I couldn't fully comprehend what I conveyed during that hour and a half. Despite my efforts to maintain focus on my narrative and subdue the intensity of those emotions, I found myself engulfed in a torrent of profound feelings. It was an encounter with the unknown, yet it crafted a sanctuary around me. Her voice, the serene guidance she offered, the radiant ambiance, and the tranquil meditation were all beyond my immediate understanding.

That day I sat with HER*...

However, as I left that office, I was burdened with a plethora of frustrations, primarily because I lacked something essential to share with my loved ones. I struggled to grasp the nature of the experience, bewildered by how effortlessly I had disclosed myself, almost as if under hypnosis, to someone whose reappearance in my life was uncertain. Yet, an inner voice assured me that everything I had known until then would undergo a profound transformation.

The duration of my journey home was a blur. I found myself lost in conversation with my inner thoughts, grappling with the same repetitive inquiries. I gripped the phone in my hand, longing for the courage to convey a message brimming with truth and the weight of my emotions to the one who had set this path before me and led me to the healer. Yet, within me blossomed a sentiment far more potent than any other discomfort — the sense of security — for the first time in this place I had embraced as "home" on this earth. Shortly thereafter, this sense of security infused my soul with gratitude that would transcend the passing years, distances, and beyond.

A world of possibilities unfolded before me, simply because I had accepted. I had entrusted myself to a stranger whose path remained unknown to me, yet I surrendered to the journey regardless of what lay ahead. And from that moment on, I began to comprehend that at times, we make choices without consciously choosing. Just as Samar delicately articulated: "Lorena, the healing comes to our life as an answer to our prayers and we realize eventually that it is always a beautiful choiceless choice.”

For years, I've contemplated how to authentically depict an encounter with a healer. The revelation is simple: through truth. Our longing for flawless scenarios, rich in suspense and drama, often leads us to dismiss the simplicity of what unfolds before us, leaving us disappointed. Words sometimes fail us, leaving only room for emotions, which memory graciously accommodates without the necessity of logical comprehension.

However, I frequently found myself recalling that indelible image of a countenance that greeted me unlike anyone had in my 28 years. Devoid of preconceptions, comparisons, or professional filters, the encounter unfolded naturally, without the need for advice or theories. Therein lay the essence of my lesson: in that space, I simply existed as myself. It was a sanctuary where I could be without overdoing it. Should I choose not to share, my silence was respected. I was embraced with whatever I brought to the table. It goes without saying that any prepared speeches were promptly forgotten upon entering that room, replaced by a myriad of nuanced definitions.

Gradually, I began to grasp the essence of terms like "welcoming presence," “come as you are”, “I am here with you”, “being present”, “put it on the table”. And it wasn't the mind that received first, but the wisdom carried within the vessel of the body, in its unending continuity. Where we begin and where we end is a pondering that often occupies my thoughts. Hence, the heart emerges as the focal point, as Rumi eloquently articulates: "The very center of your heart is where life begins — the most beautiful place on earth."

Only the heart possesses the capacity to encompass everything, to engage deeply before the mind even begins to comprehend.

Words and everyday conversations reverberated in my mind, where people expressed their views on what it means to be a healer. Some offered elaborated definitions, while others relied on a few therapeutic experiences without making an individualized recognition of a psychologist as a healer. Indeed, a healing journey encompasses all facets of existence; life, as it unfolds: through material concepts, sensory impressions, spiritual encounters, often reminding us of the absolute unknown and unlimited.

And what of the healer?

Merely an ordinary, foolish human being who recalls, lapses, and, when permitted, recollects with compassion for those journeying alongside them. Aren't we all foolish human beings, as tenderly suggested by Jason Shulman? Indeed, we are, for it pertains to us: those who come to know and then forget; those who remain unaware and uninterested; those who love and inflict pain; those who believe and doubt; those who lose themselves only to unfold once again.

And what, then, remains for a healer? To recollect itself with each human odyssey. Walking alongside...
As dusk fell on the evening following that encounter, I drifted off to sleep filled with irritation. The inability to reach out to my nearest and dearest and articulate the essence of a person, a place, an experience left me deeply perturbed. I harbored a profound sense of frustration, sensing that amidst my bewilderment, I failed to do justice to the profound encounter.
Words had long been my companions, my tools to weave narratives around images; quotes that resonated with my soul adorned the photographs I cherished. Yet, on this occasion, the absence of linguistic expression for the essence of my first meeting with the healer stirred a desire to abandon the effort altogether.
However, as night enveloped me, fate's gentle whisper guided me along a divergent path: to surrender to the flow of events. The future chapters awaited; this moment was but a prelude.

Six years hence, with just as few words to spare, I can assert that the intellect holds no sway over the profound connection between two droplets in the vast expanse of the ocean. They meld seamlessly with the enigmatic depths to forge a unified entity.

And yet, the day I sat with a healer, I learned the most important lesson of this human condition: the miracle of being part of the Journey. This poignant revelation, a testament to compassion, serves as a guiding beacon through moments of uncertainty, anguish, obscurity, and self-doubt... Its resonance persists within, propelling one forward on the path, unveiling further layers of existence until the ultimate epiphany dawns: the true miracle lies in just being fully human, embracing the dance of our foolishness and our wisdom.

Dear you,

Allow me to introduce to you, Samar Ajami, the healer who always met me where I am, and who taught me kindly how to meet her where she is.
Having her in my life, is the greatest reminder of how foolish imperfect human being I am.

And I fully celebrate it ever since..

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