A while back I had a conversation with a friend who takes delight in kidding me about my beliefs on the subject of alternative methods of healing. Since it is
mostly good-natured teasing and not really intended to be malicious or hurtful I usually accept his laugh at my expense. On this occasion, though, I reminded him that there was a time when my SCIO Quantum Biofeedback device (the “hocus-pocus machine” as he enjoys calling it) was the target of his ridicule.
“Second molar, upper left side,” was all I had to say. This was in reference to a session I had done on him several months earlier. At the time, Kevin was suffering from severe shoulder pain. He told me he hadn’t slept much in the past few nights because it was excruciating to lie down. I offered to do some muscle relaxation and stress reduction on him. He was indifferent to the suggestion.
“C’mon, try it, you have nothing to lose,” I said. He finally agreed, more for the entertainment value than from any expectation of real results.
As I was glancing at the main test matrix I noticed prominent mention of the above-referenced tooth. I wish I had a picture of the astonished look on his face when I asked him about it. He stared at me open-mouthed for several seconds.
“That’s on there? You see that?” he asked incredulously. Yes, he admitted, he was having trouble with that specific tooth.
“Think the hocus-pocus machine made a lucky guess?” I said. He didn’t respond but the startled look on him face was answer enough.
I have to admit that a number of years ago I too would have been skeptical and considered quantum biofeedback to be “hocus-pocus”. Sometimes, it is a stretch, an effort to believe; it does take a leap of faith. The concepts of quantum physics are confusing and contradictory. Everything is energy…okay, that much we accept. But how does that energy oscillate back and forth between being a wave and a particle, and how can a particle be in two places at the same time? And how the heck can one particle affect another particle at a great distance? A leap of faith indeed.
By the way, the outcome of the session on Kevin’s shoulder was positive. The next day I called and asked him how it was. He started laughing.
“At first I was cursing that machine of yours,” he said. “After you left yesterday my shoulder started killing me, hurting worse than ever. Then all of a sudden it went away. It was gone. I slept good last night and this morning it was like it never bothered me.”
So who’s laughing now? He hates to admit it but the SCIO has gained his respect. He grudgingly admits to the efficacy of the device, while the subject is hooked up in harness, that is. He still laughs at the idea of distance healing.