OYM Day 64: Susceptible to Cults — Part 3
I laid on my mat for what felt like an eternity, periodically rolling my head to the side and peering at Donna as she worked her way down the line in my direction. She had her eyes closed and breathed in and out, heavily and slow. She rubbed her palms together to build heat and she suddenly reminded me of every contestant on The Price Is Right, just hoping to win a showcase.
She hovered her hands, palms down, over a young woman. She started at her feet and worked her way up to her head. She was just an inch or 2 away from touching her. Donna’s brows furrowed so intensely that they almost touched. From what I understood, Donna was using her energy from within to rid the blockages of others, via her hands. The young woman lay their on her mat and looked peaceful. For all I knew she could have been dead. I watched for her chest to rise and fall.
The quiet pitter patter of bare feet on wood floor was interrupted by a loud, irregular snore. The Nigerian man lay next to me. He had fallen asleep. He sounded like a lawn mower running out of gas.
And I thought I was tired! How could you possibly fall asleep in a room with all these crazy people? And this horrible chime music? And a woman like Betsy in the same room, who looked like she might pull off her face at any minute and reveal her robotic identity and intention to kill all the humans to live amongst dogs?!
Donna now turned her attention to the snoring Nigerian man and, just as before, started at his feet, focusing her energy on his inner blockages. He didn’t seem to notice and continued to snore. I wondered if he might wake up feeling lighter, happier, clearer. Or maybe he’d wake up and not know where he is, see Donna with her hands over his face, and be convinced he’s been abducted for a cult ritual.
I tried to relax, but it was impossible. I knew that any minute, Donna would be upon me. I wondered what she would feel. What if she starts to work her way up my body and notices something off? What if she finds a demon in there and flags down Betsy for backup? What if I missed a piece of glass and she steps on it, howling in pain? What if I start laughing and make Donna cry?
I heard the crack of her knees and knee it was my turn. I closed my eyes and pretended to be relaxed. I heard the clicking of her beads and a sudden, intense heat near my feet. I didn’t realize you could feel the healing. She rubbed her hands together every other minute and I could feel warmth making its way up my legs. I wondered what she thought of when she looked at me. She must be feeling something. She probably sensed that I wasn’t a dog person. That I had judged every single person in that room and didn’t approve of anyone.
She could likely feel my spirit swatting away her sweaty hands, content to be angry at the world forever. Her hands were floating over my chest and I could feel it almost rise up to meet her. I felt claustrophobic.
Then the heat enveloped my face and I took a deep breathe in, in fear I may not take another breath again.
And there it was. The heavy scent of chocolate.