A month into my masters program in Spiritual Psychology at the University of Santa Monica, I raised my hand in class and quietly shared that there was something I needed to own.

I told the class that I’d had an extraordinary experience of personal healing in my life, and that I was a healer. That I had been working for a number of years on developing and refining my approach, and if there was anyone who wanted to experience this work, I’d be happy to share it with them.

This resulted in something of a landslide of responses, and I soon found myself working week in and week out with many of my classmates, their family members, and friends. It was an extraordinary, catalytic period in my awakening into these natural gifts, which I believe are a common feature of our spiritual composition.

One of the first people to respond was a strong, outdoorsy girl named Amy, who looked like she’d stepped right off the ranch – short cropped blonde hair; sharp, aware blue eyes; blue jeans tucked into black riding boots. She came over to me on the morning break right after I’d shared.

“Ever work on a horse?” she asked pointedly.

“Not yet,” I admitted, “but I’d be totally up for it.”

I make it a point never to refuse anyone – regardless of their species – who wants me to do this work.

“Great,” she said. “What are you doing at lunch?”

I had a feeling that Whole Foods sushi wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“I think I’m, uh, going to be working on a horse?”

She grinned and quickly filled me in on the situation.

Blade was a big thoroughbred stud, the alpha male of his herd, who lived on a sprawling horse ranch up near my home in Topanga in the Santa Monica Mountains. He was getting on in horse years and had recently taken ill with a resistant infection that was defying conventional treatment. He’d lost his position of ascendancy in the herd, had been relegated to a corral by himself, and was being evaluated for possible euthanasia.

To me, Amy’s cry for help was a definite last ditch effort. If we left at the start of lunch, we’d have just enough time to get up to the ranch, do a treat­ment, and make it back in time for class that afternoon. Without hesitation, I agreed.

It was a bright fall day, warm and sun dappled, as we drove up the long, rutted driveway under an ancient stand of California live oaks to the ranch where Blade had lived his whole life.

We were greeted by a couple of leathery ranch hands, both of whom knew Amy. They looked me up and down when she introduced me as a healer. Their skepticism was plain.

“Ever been around horses before?” one of them queried, taking in my khaki Dockers and purple Calvin Klein sport shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“I think we’ll be okay,” I replied neutrally.

They were concerned that Blade had been acting ornery and mean lately, obviously due to his illness. They grabbed a couple of lariats from a peg in a shed.

I shook my head. “You guys can stand by, if you want,” I said, “but let’s just see how this goes first. And keep those ropes out of sight.”

The boys looked at each other, then back at me.

“Sure,” one of them said, spitting a wad of dip into the dust, “but the ranch can’t take no liability if you... ”

I’d stopped listening and walked past them toward the corral, where I now saw Blade. Amy followed me to the fence. I smiled and stepped through the rails. She stepped through with me into the corral.

Blade was alone, standing in the shade of a spreading oak tree, swishing his tail at the cloud of flies that besieged him. I could see that he had once been utterly magnificent: a solid 17 hands high, rich chestnut color, four white stockings, golden brown eyes that looked up at me in sadness and pain, but without a trace of “ornery” or “mean.”

Doing my very best horse whisperer impression, I approached him with ease and gentleness, speaking his name in quiet reassurance, telling him I was there to help him. He nickered back softly. I had the feeling he was glad to see me. Amy stood nearby, lending her loving presence. The two ranch hands hung back by the fence, lariats in hand, waiting for Blade to turn into a three­quarter-ton wrecking machine.

As I drew close to the great old stallion, I saw the most obvious external sign of his distress: his genitals were swollen to many times their normal size, gnarled and festering, with lesions oozing yellowish pus, flies swarming all around, in a toxic feeding frenzy. It was a stomach turning sight, one that made me glad for my trauma training and calmness around body fluids.

I took a breath, continued moving toward him, keeping my gaze on his golden eyes. At last I was right beside him, inches from his left eye (the recep­tive side in mammals), seeing my own reflection there, as I continued to speak to him in a soft voice, telling him that he was magnificent, that I loved him, that I was there to help.

He turned his head toward me and gently nuzzled my body, as we stayed in close contact. I brought my hands up, placed them on either side of his head, and closed my eyes, allowing the barriers between us to simply dissolve.

When I opened my eyes again, I could visualize him as a body of light, could feel his tremendous stature and power, could see his glorious lifetime as the crown prince of his herd, galloping like thunder through mountain meadows and meandering streams, trailing a string of fillies who only wanted to be close to him.

It was a breathtaking, emotional vision. I felt his powerful heart, his bel­lowing breath, his grandness, his nobility, his unbridled joy. We stayed to­gether in that place for a long time, as my hands found different positions on his body – his head, his neck, his heart, his spine, his internal and external anatomy, circulating light through each of his centers, just as I would with a human being, only with a sense of this raw, enormous power I had never experienced before.

I returned to his head, focused again on his eyes, and did a round of an energy healing technique I call “Bright Water,” sending turbulent, hydraulic waves of energy through him, cleansing, clearing, connecting, washing away the last of his inner darkness, sending it into the Earth to be used in service of growth, regeneration, and rebirth.

Finally, I just stood with him, my arms around his great neck, the side of my face pressed softly against his, in an experience of unconditional love I sensed he both received and returned. As is often the case when I go very deep into the healing work, when the session was over, it was clearly over, as if someone had flipped a switch.

I found myself once again standing in a muddy corral amid a swarm of flies, with my arms around a big old horse. I told Blade I loved him, turned back to find Amy standing where she’d been the whole time. She wiped some­thing from her eye.

We walked back toward the corral gate, where the ranchers were still standing by. One of them hastened to open the gate for us. As we walked out, he nodded and shook my hand.

“Thanks,” he said. “I guess you have been around horses before.”

I heard from Amy a few days later. Blade had rallied. His condition had improved markedly, and he had once again taken his lead position in the herd. Many months later, I heard that he had passed away peacefully in the shade of those same live oaks, but not before he’d enjoyed one more long run in the sun with his fillies by his side.

©2016 by Doug Heyes. All Rights Reserved.
Reprinted with permission of the publisher,
Findhorn Press. www.findhornpress.com.

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The Touch: Healing Miracles and Methods
by Doug Heyes.

Within each of us, there exists a wellspring of radiant healing energy that can be accessed, channeled and used for personal healing and facilitating healing in others. THE TOUCH centers on the practice of RAM Healing™ (Radiance Aesthesia Method™) – a powerful approach to healing.

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About the Author

Following a life-changing personal healing, Doug Heyes discovered “The Touch” – the gift for healing he describes as “the natural birthright of all human beings. “ He left a successful career in show business to plunge headlong into the waters of holistic health and healing. An outdoor rescuer, adventurer, athlete, student and teacher, he gives a straight-up, first-person account of his amazing journey and extraordinary demonstrations, and offers a simple, powerful method – RAM HEALING – for awakening the Inner Healer in all of us.