The Direction of Intention

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Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Yesterday’s thoughts of Jero Manchu brought remembrance of Jakorda Rai. Like Jero, he was a balian, a very powerful man in his community, a healer. He is one of the most significant influences in my life and I barely knew him. When community members came to Jakorda’s compound, they were seeking physical healing or spiritual advice. He sat behind his patient and “read” their energy. Then, with a pointy stick, he would lightly touch points between their toes. Inevitably, one of the points would be as fire, the patient would jump in pain, Jakorda would cry out; he also felt the pain. The points corresponded to specific organs and meridians – a sophisticated reflexology.

I first witnessed his work with a student group. I was not one of his patients but he approached me after the session and invited me to come back without the group. When I returned a few days later I was relieved when his pointy stick found no fire points on my foot. He sat behind me, read my energy and told me something that froze my blood. He said through a translator, “You have no physical ailments. Your challenge is that you have closed your story. You are not living.” He touched my right shoulder and said, “You need to open your story.” I knew exactly what he meant. He knew I knew. He invited me to visit again. My return visit is a story for another post; I’m certain that the events of the follow up visit started the process of opening my story.

In the decade since I last saw him, I’ve realized that my work in the world has become to help people open their stories. There is some truth to the adage that we teach what we most need to learn. Opening stories with other people opens my story. And, as I open my story, I’m learning that I need my story less and less: a paradox. Open story, open hands, release story.

As I was leaving Jakorda Rai the last time he invited me to dine with him. I thought he meant for me to return and join him for a meal. He smiled and knew I’d get his meaning someday. Now, I understand. My story is open and my work is an extension of his work. We dine together everyday.

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