Pathways Volunteer Stories

The Power of Energy Work

Setsuko Sato, Pathways Volunteer

I am stunned by the power of energy work.

Just a week ago, I was discouraged because I couldn't help someone in a great deal of pain through energy worki. It was frustrating. While I know that energy work isn't magic and it's not supposed to miraculously take away pain; I thought at least I could help relax this person. I couldn't.

I've recently been assigned a patient who is requesting energy work. She has Alzheimer's and is often agitated and frightened by what is happening to her.

Yesterday was my first visit to her facility. I was nervous. What if I can't help her in anyway? What if I make her even more agitated by attempting energy work on her? I had to try to quiet my mind, calm myself. I reminded myself over and over again that the patient would sense my nervousness.

I knock on the door and one of the caregivers answers. She looks very stressed as she speaks. "I don't think she wants to see you right now. Things are really bad today. Can you come another day?"

I'm ready to retreat, but decide I need to give it a try. I have to trust my energy worki master, who believes that I am meant to be out here doing this. I can do this.
I walk inside. The frail looking patient is sitting in her easy chair crying. She's frightened; her eyes are filled with fear. "I'm so upset! I'm so upset! I can't do this anymore!"

I approach her cautiously and explain who I am, and why I am here. "I may be able to help you calm down a little. Would you like me to try?"

She continues crying and doesn't respond. I put my hand over her hand to soothe her and place my other hand over her heart to give her some quick energy work. I can immediately feel her calm down. Her breathing slows.

"I'll try anything you tell me to," she whispers.

I can't believe my luck—she's willing to let me try. As I start working on her, she's sitting in a chair, and there's a lot of furniture around her. The caregiver is sitting right next to us, with her arms crossed, staring skeptically.

I breathe, and think to myself, "Calm down, calm down." I concentrate on just the energy work. I feel my hands and body getting hot, burning up, as it usually does when I give energy work.

Twenty minutes go by, and then I stop and ask the patient how she feels. She opens her eyes and I can see that the fear is gone.

"You are a miracle. I would not have believed I could feel this peaceful if you told me half an hour ago. You are a miracle." The patient held on to my hand the entire time, as if scared to let go. "There is a God. The moment you knocked on the door, I was thinking that I want all of this to end, to end right now and you walked in the door."

Of the three of us in the room, I was probably the most stunned by what happened. I chatted with the patient and caregiver for a while. The caregiver explained the day had been difficult. The patient was crying and agitated by irrational fears.

After the visit, I walked to the car and let out a huge sigh—the relief, the gratitude of being able to help. I cried.