CHAPTER 1
How I Met Louise Hay
Born with Positivity
I was always a positive person. I got that from my parents. They lived through the Great Depression, and life was not always easy for them. But despite their hardships, they decided to view each day in a positive light, for which I am grateful. This skill of positivity I learned well from them.
Happiness and love filled my early development days, and I have taken that forward into my adult life. This is important for me to state up front, as the focus of this book deals with how you as an individual perceive the world—your mind-set. This book reflects my experiences, and in sharing them, I hope that you and those you love will benefit in a positive, healthy way.
The system I use comes from different teachings and techniques. I have been a student of the universe. I have listened. I have learned. I have experienced. I have developed a process that works for me. As you read, please make note of what speaks to you. Take what worked for me, and make it your own.
I always see the glass as half full and days as sunny with few clouds. That does not mean you have to be super positive to make my technique work, but a little tilt toward the positive side of things certainly helps.
It is important for me to note that positivity is a skill. It needs to be worked on and helps build the mind-set in which you view the world. Positive Mental Attitude (PMA) and mind-set are essential to understanding yourself and your health.
Self-healing came to me as much from my intuition—my body's voice—as it did from real-life experiences. What do people generally say? Experience is the best teacher. Unfortunately, many times the lessons we learn come from difficult situations. It makes me wonder if the lessons learned from pleasant happenings are as dramatic in our cognitive shifts; I am sure there is a body of research somewhere on this very topic.
I would now like to share with you how my life experiences shaped my thinking, perception, and mind-set in relation to conventional medicine.
My Son's Near-Death Experience
In 1974, I was a young mother of two delightful little boys, a four-year-old and a one-year-old. My four-year-old son, Sean, was born with what doctors told me was an outward-draining cyst located on the side of his head near the temple area. In time, they explained, this would grow over and disappear.
That summer, while on a fishing trip with his dad, my son was bitten by a mosquito in the area of the cyst. A trip to the hospital resulted in an outpatient visit to remove the cyst. This simple procedure turned into a life-altering event for the whole family.
Two craniotomies and nine years later, my son was finally released from one of the leading neurological surgeons in North America. One doctor's error had to be corrected by another but not without many stressful years for our family.
This was my doorway to questioning what at that point I accepted as an infallible institution. I believe now that the culture and society in which I grew up, one of a strong Catholic faith, discouraged any questioning. My perception of education was "Don't question but accept all authority on blind faith."
My life experiences changed that. It took the near-death of my first child to shake me into the reality and the humanness of our health care providers.
At the age of twenty-seven, I began to question. I began looking at my health and the health of my children with more responsibility. I think as a mother I instinctively did this, but it became more ingrained in me to look at alternatives to our accepted medical system. I guess my personal experiences caused me to lose faith to some degree. Loss of faith brings with it a bit of bitterness, but I had to learn to release that.
This is the backdrop for what was to become a new way of my perceiving and caring for my physical body. It was also my first step onto the path that led me to Louise Hay.
During this experience with my son—the many trips to the hospital, his long stays, waiting outside the operating room during lengthy surgeries, the sounds and smells of the intensive care unit, watching the surgeon approach after each surgery and trying to read his expression—I did my very best to stay positive. I would talk to myself in a positive way. Not once did I allow a negative, imagined end result enter my mind, not even when the neurologist in his surgery greens approached with worry beads rotating on his fingers. I focused on a future of hope and health, a future filled with fun activities for my then five-year-old son.
When Sean left the hospital for the final time, I had to learn to mother with caution but not paralysis. I could not let this physical condition control him or me. I listened to my inner voice, and he was on ice skates one month out of the hospital, a dream he had during his long hospital stay.
The technique I used to stay positive at that time was self-talk, but I did not use that phrase then. I do not think I had any label on what I did. I think I just knew that when I spoke to myself in a positive way, I would feel better. When I visualized a positive outcome, I truly believed it would happen. My son now lives a healthy, activity-filled life and works in the holistic personal health arena. And to this day, he plays ice hockey twice a week.
I have been in tune with my body since my mid-twenties. I am intuitive, so maybe that allows me to be more in tune with my body as I listen to it. Whether it is intuition, bodily instinct, or another term, one thing I am sure of is I have healed myself. I have done this on at least three separate occasions. I feel so strongly about this healing process that I want to share it with as many people as possible. Even though my health issues were common to women, this healing technique can be used by both genders of all ages.
Birth and Life Perspective
My life began in the midst of a winter blizzard so severe that my mother's doctor did not make it to the hospital. On that extremely snowy day of January 3, 1947, the only doctor available at our hospital was an orthopedic specialist. He delivered me.
Having given birth to four wonderful, healthy children, I sometimes wonder how the birthing process influences each individual's unique life path. On that day in January 1947, a discussion undoubtedly happened at my mother's bedside around this most unlikely physician performing my delivery. Possibly, this discussion in some way embedded on my subconscious and informed me to consider alternatives, as this...