I remember 21 years ago having walked into my chiropractor’s office to find a very elderly woman lying prone on one of the tables waiting to receive an adjustment. My chiropractor asked if I would work a little with her. Not knowing why, I approached the frail woman, with deep brown sunken eyes that still had sparkle, and asked her her name. Back then I did a lot of various hands on therapies along with my medical intuition work – I actually loved palpating the myriad of frequencies the body had to offer. It allowed me to fine tune my skills in sensing cell, tissue, and organ imbalance as well as various ailments within the body. By the many rhythms, I was able to learn much about the stories the body would offer; the ones very often the client would forget and the ones the client didn’t even consciously know about. I recall her sharing with me that she had headaches for years, ones that caused her to suffer greatly, and she couldn’t find a way to control them. I put my hands on her frontal lobe to grasp a sense of what was happening and was taken aback quite shockingly at the story her body wanted to share. I took a deep breath and pulled myself closer to her and began to see the story of her time in the concentration camp during World War II. I asked her if she had any recollection of her childhood, and she made a small remark about being in a concentration camp and not remembering much. It was clear she had no interest in speaking about it, so I kept my hands on her and let her body show me the story while it helped me to track it throughout her body systems. I saw the sexual trauma and the trauma of others she held in her body. I saw her torment for those family members she lost. I saw some of the friends she kept close. I saw the nightmares, the screaming….many other things which I chose myself to forget after her cellular memory gave me a first hand account. I tracked those stories through her body, actually forgetting that I was still in my chiropractor’s office awaiting my adjustment. I tracked her story through her eating disorder when she was a young adult. I tracked it through the stories she held onto of other survivors and victims still held in her tissues. I was 27 years old at the time. I had actually visited Dachau when I was 19 years old in Germany. But nothing could have prepared me for the collective story her body was sharing with me. I had already been working with clients for a few years by that time, but this was my first experience of cellular memory to the degree in which I was experiencing it, based on a collective trauma, not just individuated.
I’m not a scientist by any means, but it is understood that nerve impulses carry messages between cells. It is also believed they are encoded within our ancestral patterning, the field of epigenetics. Our bodies are amazing vessels which house thousands of frequencies belonging to thoughts, emotions, experiences, ancestral histories, even the foods we eat. We also carry those stories of other souls we connect with, as their learning facilitates our learning and vice versa. Cellular memory influences our lives on a daily basis more than we could ever imagine, thus ancestral patterns and collective patterns influence our very experiences. When clients speak about ‘cutting chords’ or breaking the pattern caused by cellular memory, I tend to see things differently. I would rather make space for the memory to do what it needs to do, to serve us individually or collectively in the way that it needs to serve. There is a part of that memory, even if a traumatic one, which is Divine, just as within every darkness, one will find light. A chord doesn’t need to be cut. When given the appropriate respect and understanding for why it is there, it will be raised to the light by Divine Will, thus helping to bring healing to any imbalance created within the cellular memory. And when space is created within a cell, more stories will come forward, more memories, cognizant or not, of times past. The body knows.
I stayed with that woman for almost an hour. I can’t even recall if I received my adjustment or not. I do remember that the one thing she kept asking me in addition to helping her with her headaches was to help her find true love. That at her age, she had never experienced it. I looked up as a hand from the spirit world touched my shoulder. I knew the woman would cross soon and that she would be granted a far greater love than she could have ever hoped for. I placed my hand on her heart and told her wish would be granted soon. And with that, her cells heard me. Her tissues heard me. Her organs heard me. Her headache dissolved. Her body, and all the stories and souls connected with it, were being granted a mercy far greater than I had ever witnessed.