Rached E. Daoud M.D.

my REALITY

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Contents
Introduction PART ONE: My childhood (Lebanon) PART TWO: My student life ( Rumania) 1976-I983 Going to Rumania In the medical school Gypsies wedding Ceausescus tear My cultural world I am a verse in the Universe A voice from prison -1A voice from prison -2A poetic world in medicine History in the grave My dark days in Bucharest Part 3: My spiritual and medical life in Lebanon The rejected revelation My medical experience in Lebanon Meditations My medical healing stories
a- The wild surgical operation b- The doctor and the priest c- A slap can heal d- The donkey is a teacher-1Page 2

e- The donkey is a teacher-2f- My medical prayer g- Love which heals the paralytic

h- Healing tales i- The woman who challenged death Part 4: An invitation to Rumania (1989) A letter from the Rumanian President Back to Rumania My resurrection Healing of the diplomats A plot on Ceausescu Part 5 : Back to Beirut (1990) Healing in mid war Part 6: A medical Revolution (Rumania 1991) A concept of Revolution Looking for a medical Revolution Part 7: My spiritual journey to England (1992-1995) Going to England Meetings with physicians and therapists An operation from Outer Space. My days in Chelsea a- In Chelsea Hall
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b- The spiritual crooks

The secret of a world famous healer Believe and belief

a- Aliens healing energy b- Believe in the bed c- Believe in absent healing d- My myth e- My patient is my medical teacher h- Healing of the mind i- The absurd medical researcher j- Lady, I am not your gigolo k- The girl was seducing me l- The woman I raped m- A new approach to cancer n- The healer of cancer was an Indian cow o- My research about cancer p- The healer of cancer was not me qrstuMy healing work in the imagination of Joe Link and his The woman with a breast lump The woman with breast cancer The healer of cancer was an angel Exorcism to cancer wife Mary Lutyens

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Part 8: Healing of the community a- The mouse which killed the cat b- The prodigal
v- The misjudgement

Part 9: Healing by the word Part 10: Healing is not prostitution Part 11: A call from wilderness Part 12: Healing of the systems
a- My medical global vision b- My meetings in the University c- My message to the physicians d- My message to whom it may concern

Conclusion : Back to my Spiritual roots

My childhood
I was born in Lebanon in 1956, in a small village called Kaferhelda. My father was a peasant but also a schoolteacher. He opened the first school in the village, teaching the villagers to read and write
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under an oak tree, after putting the oxen to rest. He loved to read books, and at the same time to work the land. His culture was inspired from nature. He used to say: I love the land because it never lies, and also I hate the hypocrisy of the world. My village lies in a valley with a rough nature flanked by mountains, near a small river with a beautiful waterfall. A wilderness that has in some ways a deep spirituality similar to that of John The Baptist, my land inspired me profoundly. Near my village is the Kadisha valley the Holy Valley, and the biblical cedars which God planted. In my childhood I believed that God lived up on top of the mountains and that his spirit filled the whole valley I found my ideal of beauty in this wilderness; it taught me purity and meditation. It was difficult for me to accept the mentality that seeks nothing other than pleasure and power. I listened to my heart, to my inner voice, and remained hard like the rocks of my mountains. My childhood was romantic and playful. I read many books, danced with the goats up on the hills, taught the ants how to steal grains of wheat from the kitchen and the chicken how to dance on the tune of the flute. I communicated with a universe that was strange and unknown to the villagers. They thought I was crazy; they laughed at me because I never cared about material things. My only concern was for creativity, honesty and compassion. When I was seventeen years old, I left my village to continue my studies in Beirut. There, I came into contact with the sophisticated society and the various political trends, from the extreme left to the extreme right. I realized that the political parties were manipulating the students, urging to go on strikes when it suited them. I hated the way they dominated our teenage emotions prompting us to violence and destruction. I was hurt when the school was closed, allegedly in support of the Palestinian cause. I thought that we, as students, have no business with politics! Our occupation should be only to seek knowledge. I felt that the negative political chaos is going to destroy Lebanon. For whom, for what? Lebanon is a peaceful and civilized country. It is the birthplace of the alphabet, and is a part of the Holy Land of the Bible. It is mentioned in the heavenly dream that is the Song of Songs. Before the war Lebanon was a paradise guarded by the Holy Cedars. Its mountains overlooked the blue Mediterranean. Here, one can swim in the sea and ski up in the mountains, all in the same day.
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Beirut was a cosmopolitan city that never sleeps where East and West meet in wonderful dreams of life. The evil in the world destroyed my country. The cupidity of our leaders led us to war! In the autumn of 1974, black clouds were creeping towards Lebanon. I was then a premedical student in the American University of Beirut. My colleagues from several countries came to study in Beirut and to enjoy the last months of peace in Lebanon. In the spring of 1975, the country of the Cedars was plunged into two decades of bloody war. Beirut became a big cemetery and an inferno, with tragic storms of fire and dark clouds. Crucified, was my country! I could not continue my studies in Beirut. I had to go elsewhere!

Going to Rumania
War having interrupted my studies in Beirut, I had to continue studying medicine outside Lebanon. Rumania accepted me to study

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medicine at one of its institutes. I had to pay the university 150$ every month. My parents tilled the land in order to provide me with tuition fees. I arrived in Rumania in the cold winter of 1976. Bucharest was like a cold and dark exile. The people looked anxious and silent. Their faces showed grief and fear. It was clear to me that they lived in a climate of tyranny. When one walked in the street, one felt as if followed by strange steps and that certain ears were always listening to what was said. One week later, I left Bucharest to Bacau, a northern city in the Moldovian region, where I had to study the Rumanian language for a year. I arrived in Bacau by train. At the station the Dean of Bacaus institute was waiting for me on the platform. I was one of the first foreign students to come to this city. The linguistic institute welcomed a group of foreign students with a traditional folk dance and home-baked bread. This was their way of expressing their traditional generosity for their guests. They surpassed themselves since we were the first foreign students who came seeking knowledge in their country. In Bacau I met a society that was new to me. Rumanians wanted to see how foreigners looked! How they dressed! How they behaved! They had never met foreign students before. They were curious to know me. They desired to have foreign things from me like US cigarettes, perfumes, blue jeans etc. The communist laws did not allow them to have foreign currencies and goods. Their regime was extremely dictatorial. For instance they would imprison a Rumanian if he illicitly owned a few US dollars or if he dealt with a foreigner. I was an exotic figure for so many. For them, I represented a world from which they were estranged. Many beautiful girls tried to trap me and make me fall in love with them, and marrying them, since the only way a Rumanian girl could escape from her awful country was by marrying a foreigner.

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In the medical school

In Bacau, I studied Rumanian for a year, and then went to study medicine in Cluj-Napoca. There, the medical school is of an international standing. Cluj is a beautiful city of Transylvania. It was one of the cultural centers of the former Austro-Hungarian Empire. The university is known for graduating eminent physicians. In Cluj my life was tough. I lived with many other students in a small room. Sometimes we lacked central heating and hot water. I adapted myself to all these conditions. My only care was to become a successful physician. In the medical institute, I was an unusual student. During the hours of anatomic dissection of corpses, I was curious to explore every corner of the human body. Once, in the abdomen, I found an artery that was not presented in the textbooks of anatomy. I called the professor and showed him what I found. He smiled and tapped my shoulder gently with his hand, saying: I will call this vascular part by your name: Daouds artery, because, nobody noticed it before you. At the end of the semester during the anatomy examination, this same professor asked me a single question about Daouds artery. I pretended that I didnt understand what he was referring to! Then he said: Without examining you I will give you ten, the highest grade. I was not satisfied with the textbook knowledge that the school provided. I wanted to express my creative spirit and explore new fields. Once, at the final examination of physiology, the professor asked me to explain Pavlovs theory relating the conditional reflexes of the nervous system. In answer, I described how Pavlov conditioned a dog to secrete saliva when a bell rang Thereupon, the professor asked me to give him another example of that theory! I replied by telling him how I had unwittingly demonstrated Pavlovs theory in my childhood by teaching chicken to dance to a musical tune. The professor laughed and said: Tell me about your experiment, how did you do that? And please stick to the subject! Okay, I said. It was when I was ten years old. My parents were peasants and owned a cock and six hens in a fenced yard beside the house. One summer afternoon, their cackle woke me up. It seemed to me

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that a fox had upset the hens. I rushed outside to see what was the matter! To my surprise, I found that the chicken were welcoming my mother, who was coming from the field, carrying a heap of green corns for them. Their cackle sounded like a real chorus. I thought that the state of hunger could condition and educate any organism to a particular kind of behavior. If the chicken learned to sing, they could also learn to dance! I would civilize them. I imprisoned the chicken without food. My parents thought that I was crazy. I explained what I was going to do. They didnt understand and were angry with me for wanting to do such an experiment. I insisted until they yielded and allowed me to proceed with the experiment I drew a white straight line on the ground; drove in the earth an iron peg at each end of the white line and tied a string between the two pegs a few inches higher than the cock. Every half a meter, I tied a piece of bread on the string. I called three of my playmates to join with me to form an orchestra. We cut reeds from the riverbank and made flutes with them. We rehearsed a tune. Two of us played flutes while the other two drums. We composed an original tune for the experiment. Everything was ready to carry my experiment. I freed the starving chicken from their jail. The cock and hens wandered in the garden searching for food. They found the crumbs of bread on the strings and jumped to catch them. In this way I made them march on the white line, jump up and reach the crumbs with their beaks. We then played our music while they were flapping their wings. This training lasted two weeks and after that the show was ready. Many villagers came to watch the performance of our chicken. We played our tune. The hungry chicken heard the melody and rushed forth, strictly following the white line. Flapping their wings, they jumped up to reach the places on the string where we used to put bread. As long as the music lasted, the chicken danced enthusiastically. At the end, I rewarded them with a copious dinner. That is how I trained a troop of dancers in my very own fashion. In front of my home was a circus! A chicken disco! The village audience laughed at me and thought that what I had done was silly. They considered me eccentric! These villagers could not realize that the worlds political establishments had conditioned them like I had conditioned the chicken.

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The professor listened to my story with great attention. He was greatly amused. He then congratulated me for my innate gift, foreseeing that, in the future, I might use this peculiar gift in my medical practice. He said that I will heal the patients and make their hearts dance with happiness.

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Gypsys wedding

It was during the Christmas holidays, on December 21, 1978. I was walking in downtown Cluj. A sound of music coming from the first floor of the Continental hotel attracted my attention. Out of curiosity, I entered. It was a bar. I sat at one of the tables bent on enjoying myself. I put down my briefcase that contained two packs of Kent cigarettes and a bottle of whisky. I checked for money in my pocket and found that I had 300$ and 1000 lei. An attractive brunette entered the bar. Her beauty was indescribable. She resembled a nymph. Her charm hypnotized me. She came forth and asked me if she could sit at my table! Yes please! I said, adding to myself: And in a special place in my heart! She sat down with a smile and looked at me with bewitching eyes. I was as a bee trapped in the spell of her flowers. She seemed to feel my emotions towards her, and started a conversation: Where are you from? She asked. I am from Lebanon, I said. Your country is so beautiful. It is the pearl of the Middle East, she said! You know Lebanon? I asked her. Yes, it is a beautiful country because you are from there. This was the introduction of a warm conversation. The bar also provided us with coffee and vodka together. It took us an hour to become very intimate and to like each other. She was the first girl in Rumania who quickly entered my heart. She kissed me and said: I fell in love with you, I do not want to lose you, come with me tonight. Come with me, I live alone in a splendid villa by a lake in the Cojocna. I have dreamt of you all my life. You are a beautiful lord coming from the East. You are the Adonis of Lebanon. Do not worry about staying with me, your presence there will fill me with happiness. Her words moved me. Her whole body exuded charm. Blinded with her beauty, I blurted out:

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You are so sweet to my heart! I cannot live without you! You are my angel. I need you to fill the emptiness in my heart. We will share in love the dreams of our life. Let us go! We left the bar and took a taxi to Cojocna, which is twenty kilometers away. I let myself to be docilely led by the brunette girl I had met only two hours before in the bar. My behavior was euphoric, naive and romantic. We arrived in the evening at Cojocna. The weather was foggy and chilly. We walked by a frozen lake on an icy road. The girl saw me shivering and stopped to warm me with hugs and kisses. Pointing her finger toward the white hills, and said: Look, there is my villa. It cannot be seen clearly from here, in this dusky hour. In my spacious house you can spend all your Christmas vacation. You will enjoy my place and my warm bed. I also have an Arab horse in the garden, which you might like to ride. Yes, my darling, you have conquered my heart, the coming days I will spend with you will be the happiest of my life. Do we still have a long way to walk to your house? I asked. Let us first enjoy our being together by going to the wedding party of a friend of mine. You will be my special guest there and watching such cheerful events in Rumania will thrill you. Indeed, festivities are the most pleasant times in our life. The wedding to which we are now going will be a new experience to you: the people are kind and generous and the folk music and dance are lively. The food and drink, which they serve, is unbelievably good. The Rumanian generosity will provide abundant and rich tables. Come let us go to the wedding, it is on our way, in a restaurant not far from here. I want to drink and dance with you on such a special occasion and after that, we will go to bed in my villa. We will have a lot of fun and great pleasure. What do you say? The greatest pleasure in my life was when I met you, and now that I am with you, I am the happiest person on earth. From now on, wherever you go, I will be with you. Believe me my darling, I love you. She kissed me with passion, then said: But I must insist that you behave and do what I tell you, because during the wedding festivities we will meet a lot of respectable and highly considered people. There, we will be as one family. Act like everyone else. You will have no trouble, since you are a lovely and generous person. You will be a great surprise for everyone: a great guest coming from overseas to share with us moments of happiness. Come with me and meet exceptional people.

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We went to the restaurant. As we came near, gay and lively music greeted us. The atmosphere was exciting, and the whole crowd charming. Girls were dressed in bright colored gowns with lace. Their appearance was stunning, and everybody was extremely hospitable. The bride was beautiful and as elegant as a princess. The bridegroom looked like an oriental potentate. The attendance welcomed me as if I was a monarch. The singers and the orchestra dedicated to me a special song. Such hospitality moved me deeply. The kindness of the people left me at a loss how to express my gratitude. My girl friend sensed that I was shy and did not know how to respond to the generosity of her friends. She told me to relax and feel at home. Raising a glass of champagne, she asked me to do the same, which I did. She addressed the crowd saying: Cheer up everybody, my Lebanese friend wants to share the happiness of this event with you. I enjoyed talking and drinking till I became euphoric. After that my girl friend invited me to dance and said how wonderful I am and that everyone here loved me. My darling, please show me how to express my gratitude to your kind friends? I said. You need only to open your heart to us. We love you. You will see later that the best man will ask everybody to place what money they have with him. He will take the money and offer it to the bridegroom saying: We give everything we have for your happiness. Then, the bride, at the end of the evening will say: Thanks to all those who expressed their love with their blessed contributions to our wedding. Then, the bride, the bridegroom, the best man, and the bridesmaid will give the money back to the people during a closing ceremony of the wedding festivities, saying: We thank all of you who assisted the wedding. May your homes be always filled with happiness! We give you back your generous gifts because we have already received forever your love. My Lebanese sweetheart, you see, these are the customs in Rumania. In this way, we make a play with money to express our generosity and love. At the end, we lose nothing, but win a splendid brotherly relationship. Life is a game: go with it and you will win everything. Do not forget that when we finish from here we will go to my home where I have a surprise awaiting you! I was impatient for what she was preparing for me that evening. She hugged me with passion and said:

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God has sent you to me. I will do everything for you; you are a student here in my country, if, at any time you are in need of money or anything, please call on me. I receive a lot of money from my rich brother in Germany. My sweetheart, without you I am astray. Destiny has brought me to this country to find you. You are the Astarte of my dreams. My heart is in your hands and at your command. I said these words in an emotion close to delirium. The cadence of the music enflamed us. We cuddled each other with a deep rapturous feeling. Then, a gypsy melody warbled and the people danced in frenzy. According to the rhythm, every person had to jump up at every cadence and hit his body with his palms. The gypsy singer was so comic. He was singing a song of jealousy about Magdalena. Magdelena spune drept cine te a muscat la piept Magdelena dece minti ca albina n-are dinti. The funny thing in the song was that the man was so angry. He was asking Magdelana, who had bitten him on the bosom. She answered: It is a bee. He said angrily: Magdelena why do you lie? The bee has no teeth. I started to dance like a gypsy in a euphoric and chaotic way as if I was going to beat Magdelana. My girl friend, excited, kissed me, saying that I am so genial. The orchestra took a break. The father of the bridegroom with the mother of the bride started to sing a short ballad of hooray to every person till he offered his money. The drum was beating to bring about an exotic atmosphere. The best man offered 1000 lei, which was equivalent to 30$. My girl friend prepared me to be disposed to give all my money on the conditions she had explained before. She said: A gentleman carrying a hat in his hand will come to you. Put in his hat all your dollars and before we go home, you will receive your money back. Your friends in Rumania need only that you trust them. You must understand our generous spirit and admire our customs A man stretched his hat as a tray in front of me. I gave him 200$. He asked me, where I am from? My darling, the brunette, pressed me to

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her bosom and answered him: This is my lover, a wonderful and fantastic gentleman from Lebanon. Look, how sweet he is! The best man called the wedding crowd saying: Cheers for our friend from Lebanon! Congratulation for our great guest! He offered 200$! Great, generous hand! The people applauded wildly. The orchestra dedicated to me one of its songs. My generosity lured the beautiful young ladies. They opened their arms and hugged me. They enthralled me with sensual feelings. I never experienced such excitement before in my life. The bride left her bridegroom to please me with certain sensual kisses. She awakened in me a feeling of ecstasy and I behaved as an Oriental potentate. Showing off, I puffed out my chest. Then I took the last hundred dollars from my pocket and the two boxes of Kent cigarettes from my briefcase. In a drunken voice, I said to the bride: These are for you, for our Lebanese-Rumanian friendship! My girl friend of that night was jealous. She snatched the dollars from my hand and called two musicians from the orchestra to come over, telling them in their language: Bach tillo awar deysoco ris.` A snub-nosed man with a curved moustache carried his violin and stood beside me. He called his colleague to prepare his drum. They played a special music of hooray, dedicated for our Rumanian-Lebanese friendship. The melody was an Arabic tune: Mustafa. I danced vigorously shaking my arms to the cadence of the rhythm. I was like a charmer dancer in the grand palace of a Sultan. I was so eccentric with my oriental chaotic movements. The women were fluttering around me. They gave me to drink a concentrated Rumanian country drink called palinca till I became lost in my world of illusions and dreams. Suddenly, I saw the ceiling vibrating. The curtains and windows were waltzing up and down. The people were whirling. I saw myself uplifted, flying as a butterfly from place to place. Girls opened their arms to squeeze me to their bosoms. I needed one of them to help me steady my legs on the floor. A virgin dressed in white caught me with her magic hands and sexy eyes. She supported me down to earth by pressing me to her waist and her shiny thighs. She kissed me inside my lips and said: This is divine, then, she pushed me gently with her buttocks towards a lonely and dark corner of the restaurant hall. At the end, with a deep sensual sigh she seduced me and then whispered saying:
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Leave him in peace. Leave him to relax in his ecstatic sleep. There is nothing left in him anymore; I drained his last ounce of energy. He was lovely and tasty! At four oclock in the morning, I woke up on the floor, startled, with a feeling of pain. Somebody was hitting me with a broom. It was the house cleaner, who was sweeping the floor. She wanted to rid the restaurant from my gypsy appearance and smell. She shouted at me saying: Go out dirty young man. Your friends have left you behind. They said you are a vagabond. They were ashamed of you for the miserable things that you did to them last night. They finished the wedding party and left you here in your misery. I need now to clean this place from their dirt. I looked at myself. Really, I was feeling miserable! I saw myself lying on the floor, drunk. I was unconscious of how I fell asleep in such a shameful way. My head was heavy, pondering on my enormous stupidity. I stood up dusting my clothes and looked around; the restaurant was empty except for the house cleaner. At the beginning, I didnt remember what I was doing in the restaurant that night! I was sleeping there on the floor! Did anybody kidnap me during my sleep? What am doing I here? I asked the cleaning lady. What are you doing here? You are not normal in your head! You know how to go home? I will call the police to take you! She said. Suddenly my heart started to gallop. A cold sweat came over me. My breath stood still and with panic I cried, saying: Where is my brunette friend? Where is the money that I was to receive back? Where is the villa by the lake? Where is the RumanianLebanese friendship? Go out, please! I do not need your hysteria here. You are a dirty Arab. You are a pig. The house cleaner insulted me and I had no energy left to reply to her. She didnt want to help me, but was threatening me to leave the restaurant. Go home as you are now. You are a fool. Your friends have left you because you have abused them. Really, you harmed them in their dignity. You must be thankful to them because they did not kill you when you fell down on the floor; their chief here came with his sharp knife to slaughter you, but the brunette girl who brought you here, felt pity for you, because she loved you. She defended you by persuading the Chief to take all your money and what you own, instead of killing you. You are

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very lucky. Your lover pleaded for you and saved your life. Go out, before your friends come back here and cut your throat! I started to cry. My tears ran down my cheeks. I was wailing to myself! Why be in such societies that do not even know God? I spoke to the house cleaner: Please, tell me what did I do wrong? Till now, I have never harmed anybody. I was polite with everybody. I have no bad intentions towards any person. Yesterday, did I do wrong by accepting the invitation of a beautiful young girl to come here? I behaved as a gentleman. The house cleaner replied: Do not talk to me anymore! Listen carefully, if you will remain a minute more in this restaurant, you will create problems. Go quickly now before they come back and kill you. I looked around frustrated, angry and frightened. I didnt know how to react to such a situation. Suddenly, two people came and forced me to leave the restaurant. I left the place. It was so cold outside. Ice, fog and darkness were freezing any movement. A chilly wind was blowing to extinguish the last warmth remaining in me. A snowstorm was blowing on all sides, collapsing my hope to walk back to Cluj twenty kilometres away. Disoriented I was in a desert of ice. The greedy world had thrown me to face a cold death. I became exhausted and frozen. I fell unconscious on a heap of snow. It happened on the road to Cojocna. The second day, I woke up from my state of lethargic deep sleep, in one of the cells of the Cluj police station. Two inspectors came and interrogated me. I told them the truth about what happened to me with the gypsy. They explained to me how lucky I was that they had found me lying frozen in the snow with the last breath of life, and that they had picked me up and brought me here. The police had no interest in my fate. They told me to be grateful that I was still alive. A civil officer asked me to meet him often and to be a friend of the police because he had saved my life. I thanked the police for this noble turn. On my way out, I saw an officer entering through the main door. His face seemed familiar. Then it dawned to me that I saw him in the gypsy wedding of Cojocna!

Ceausescus tear
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It was September 1979, my parents could not provide me with tuition fees for medical studies, and the crazy war in my country had impoverished them even more. The result was that the Rumanians forced me to interrupt my medical studies or to pay my school tuition fees. I appealed to many friends to help me by asking the Rumanian government to solve my problem, giving a special consideration to my financial situation as a Lebanese citizen and as a good student. My friends asked me to give them the last little money I had in order to bribe the minister of education to help me. My friends took advantage of me like the gypsies of Cojocna and the result was that I received an official letter from the office of foreign students ordering me to leave the country within a short period or else I will be liable for deportation. And out of poverty, I was seen and treated as a vagabond and the security department of the communist regime was looking for a way to expel me from Rumania. I received the answer like a bomb exploding in my heart with great fury against the Rumanians. At first I reacted like a paranoiac who was seeking revenge against what I considered was the Rumanians unwarranted bad treatment. Soon, however, I realized that my only choice was to quiet down and find a polite and suitable way to leave Rumania. When I regained my senses, I thought: What have I against the Rumanians? After all, they are not obliged to help me, a Lebanese, financially when there are so many of their people in need of help. Are they responsible of the misery created by the war, which impoverished me? No, I must not be selfish. I must not take from me the thorns and put them in others. I must, instead, leave Rumania thanking its people with great gratitude for the three years in which I was treated hospitably. I decided to write a letter of thanks for every Rumanian before leaving Cluj definitively. But how? Such a message of unconditioned love could express my Lebanese rural warm feelings only if it could be written in Rumanian verse. One day in November, I woke up in the morning to the sound of a gale. There was no heating in my room. My body was numb with cold. Snow had covered all the hills surrounding the city. I must move out of the students house to seek a warm place. I wandered in the icy streets of Cluj until my hair became white with frost. At the end of a Clujean street was a library. I went in to feel warm and to enjoy reading books of Rumanian literature. I always had a great passion to study the culture of every nation. Poets like Eminescu and
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Blaga fascinated me with their pastoral and mystical thinking. I loved the Rumanian language. It is full of compassion and lyricism. In the quiet atmosphere of the library, a dream came to me. I saw myself standing silent in the shadow of an oak tree. The bells were ringing and skylarks were singing in the language of the heart. Suddenly, I woke up from my romantic trance and all my frustrations turned to affection and determined me to write a poem in Rumanian. I expressed my gratitude towards the country that opened its doors to teach me medicine and to satisfy my thirst for lofty human values. I wanted my poetic message to reach every Rumanian before being deported from his country. My friends read my verses with passion. They touched their hearts. They felt my love and gratitude for them. They looked at me with admiration. They wanted me to publish my warm verses. I visited a famous newspaper in Bucharest, called Flacarea. I presented my poems. The journalists were extremely glad to publish my poems. The atmosphere of excitement shone on their faces. The head of the section of poetry felt my strong message of compassion, and with a thrill he applauded and said: Extraordinary! Then two photographers came and took my picture and said: You will have a great surprise. We will publish your poems. 13 December 1979, I wandered in the streets of Cluj to meet my friends. Something strange was happening. I was surprised at how many unknown people were looking at me with astonishment. Some of them pointed at me with their finger. It made me self-conscious to see so many Rumanian eyes fixed on me while I walked in the street. Suddenly near a kiosk, a newspaper carried by a man attracted my attention and I saw my photograph on the front page. My heart jumped with joy. A strong thrill pushed me towards the news-stand. There was a pile of the newspaper Flacarea. On its front page was published my poem entitled Rumania, you taught me your language \ in which bells and skylarks sing . I bought a heap of Flacarea newspapers from the kiosk and ran with them in the street like a proud child. I stopped people in the street showing them the paper. They were impressed. They appreciated my beautiful poetry. Ceaucescu read my poem. The dictator was extremely excited by my message of gratitude and love to his people. My verse moved his emotions. While he was reading my warm verses a tear ran down his cheek. His guards were impressed. The editor of the

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newspaper Flacarea was asked to tell me the Rumanian Presidents appreciation of my poetry. Consequently, I received a letter from the editor, a very influential person. In his letter, he congratulated me and asked to meet me. A week later, we met. I presented him with a manuscript of my book of poetry with twenty illustrations. He looked at it and started to read one of my poems. He told me: Bravo! Bravo! You are a great Lebanese poet in our language. We are proud of you. How can I help you? I took from my plastic bag an application for obtaining a scholarship from the Rumanian government in order to continue my medical studies and not to be deported from Rumania, because I could not afford my tuition fees. He took the application and said: Go back to your medical school and in two weeks you will receive your scholarship! January 1980, I got my scholarship. I started to perceive the world with love and to express compassion in many of my poems. The Rumanian police who were searching for me in order to deport me from the country, met me and said: You are now a great man in Rumania. The tear of Ceausecu was your salvation.

My cultural world

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By the year 1980 I had become famous as a Lebanese poet in Rumanian. My debut in the universe of Rumanian literature was a unique phenomenon. I was the first foreigner who, in a short time, studied the Rumanian language and became a celebrated poet. In Cluj I lived the life of a bohemian artist. Most of my free time was spent in writing poetry in the coffees, bars and restaurants. I was welcome in the circles of Clujean artists, writers and philosophers. Cultural meetings always attracted me. I had to make my trek through Rumanian culture and spirituality. One day in the Clujean restaurant Continental, I was having supper with my girl friend, a student in Rumanian philology. I read to her my poems and she began to correct my grammatical mistakes. Adrian, the musician of the restaurant came to our table and shared with us a glass of vodka. We discussed the difficulties I meet while thinking and writing in a foreign language. After that, Adrian suggested that I meet his father, Petran, who was a journalist and an editor, believing that he could help me in expressing my ideas in the proper Rumanian form. I went the next day with Adrian to his fathers apartment. Petran, a man in his sixties, read my poetry and felt my genuine spirit. He liked the originality and spirituality in every verse. He admired my ambition and confidence to express myself in his language with such strength and compassion. Petran started to give me suggestions regarding my poems. Then listening to me with a smile, he expressed his thoughts in warm words. He clarified many things that were still blurred in my mind. I felt, from the first meeting, that Petran is the man who can guide and support me in the world of creativity and familiarize me with the highest human values. Petran became for me a spiritual and cultural mentor. He was an extraordinary man, a great mystic and a compassionate thinker. He exerted himself to enlighten others. He wanted to give me his last wisdom before it fades away when he leaves this world. Petran was very talented as a journalist and editor. He transmitted the gift of writing to many novices in literature, and is credited with promoting many writers and poets. His aim was to nourish the seeds of creativity and to serve the community. He was a servant of spirituality and culture. He rejected glory that serves the selfishness of individuals rather than the greater values of life. When Petran was editing one of the Rumanian newspapers, he realized that the press was very corrupt. He could not accept many things in life that ruin spiritual integrity. He could not bear envy that destroys friendship, or glory that blinds a person. Petran has done the most
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extraordinary work of positive criticism that I have ever seen, in the domains of painting, inventions and literature. He worked in silence, shunning glory and avoiding greedy eyes. He wanted to light with his spark of creativity the candles of others instead of showing off his own candles. He lived the life of an anonymous genius in order to feel very close to God. Petran published several articles in the press, signed with different pseudonyms, against corruption. His articles caused a big scandal, but so far nobody discovered their real author. He found that, in his journalistic activities, negative powers wanted to compromise him or abuse of his conscience. Hence, refusing the glory of this world in order to preserve his human principles, he resigned all journalistic activities and became a simple railway worker. He remained in touch only with a few simple people of his family. He stayed all his last thirty years in frustrated silence and sorrow for humanity. When I met him, his silence spoke, shaking the clouds of ignorance. Petran is the greatest man I ever met. His thoughts were for me prophecies for world culture and civilization. He revealed the diamonds in my thoughts and his words will guide me for forever. He inspired me with the great philosophy of healing the individual and the community. To his principles, I am committed Extremely impressed by the life of Petran, I wrote the following poem dedicated to him.

Corruption
God came down to earth, Nobody was beside him. He turned on alone the switch, Energy began to gambol, Regulated with common sense, Lighting the swings of heaven. Since a certain time, Opacities started to multiply In a fog of darkness,
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Suppressing the light. Our ancestral genes are crying: Where is the pure light, That spreads knowledge To our children? Before the nights Can persecute our Time And become heavy In our minds, The ordered systems Of darkness Must be put in Evidence!

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I am a verse in the Universe

I published my poems in about twelve Rumanian literary magazines. My name was on the front page of almost every Rumanian paper. In my literary activities I was considered an eminent universal personality and by the Rumanian cultural authorities as an international free thinker and one of the worlds prominent poets. In an interval of three years I published my three books of poetry in Rumanian. The first book appeared at the publishing house Junimea in the Moldovian city Iashi. It was entitled Fascinatii Timpului (Fascination of Time). The book treats the dimension of Time and its physical and mystical essence. We are always living in great stress because we are conditioned by time. Everything could be resolved if our hopes are taken in accordance with Time. Could Time listen to our human cry in order to heal the human being of his main Anxiety. I addressed Time saying: You are the one Who always gives hope Of what is better. Why in the end You cut my appetite of living, Leaving me forever? I am glad when I know You are here. Do not leave me, Do you hear? What will I do When I miss you? Are you my enemy? You are Too close to me Yet too far away! At the end, Time was deaf. He never wishes to listen to the cries of our hearts. I felt that he was avoiding answering. Then I asked whether Space is responsible for human frustrations. I wanted to perceive what goes on with my human reality on that side:
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On the other side, On the other side of the door That keeps me captive in space, There is darkness. Therefore, when Time will open it, Whether willing or not, I must go out, Because behind the other doors, Through which I once entered, That dreadful jailer Is staying, awaiting his turn, His only care Is to fasten the bolt, And hold in my place, In a great hurry, Another prisoner of light. Looking for humanitys existential solution, I found that Space and Time are the executors of orders, not the decision-makers, and therefore could not be blamed for our stress. There must be Somebody who is hiding his face from us and who, alone, can give me an answer for my human frustrations. Then I looked to the sky, it was midnight, I wanted to see where the Great Anonymous is. I wanted to understand his creative mentality and to find the solution. Suddenly a star fell telling me something in this tiny story:

Calm and tactical

The Big Architect Primed the complicated mechanism Of the primary atom Releasing the deafening big bang. He did not hear it Because he was in the laboratory Where he was mixing substances That smell life. From the window Even today, he looks at the opera
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 The cosmic swing In which sometimes A rusted chain is torn From its link and detaches a star. At the end, I did not get an answer in my own language. The act of creativity in the Universe is going on and none of the angels would speak to me about the frustrating stress of being a human being. I wanted every individual to have an eternal life, free from the conditions of Space and Time. I looked again at the sky. It was dawn. The sun had risen above the mountains. Its light fell on me, inspiring me, and I said: If the sun Will collect Its scattered Light, Your existence Will be Finished Because Its eternity Is in giving.

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A Voice from prison 1

In Bucharest, I often visited the Union of Rumanian writers, and soon became friends with most of the renowned poets, philosophers, artists, professors, scientists and other intellectuals. My presence was sought and my collaboration was welcomed in different cultural circles and festivals, in university and academy conferences and in special radio and television programs. I was having dinner one day in the Union of writers. Most of the artists and writers were drunken with frustration. An old person was speaking compassionately. I listened to his mystical and philosophical ideas that were shaking every listener. His words were very sharp. Like a sword they cut the masks of the worlds systems and exposed every human beings obtrusive ignorance. I asked my colleagues sitting with me at the same table who is this wise old man? Is he a free thinker, and how dare he speak with such freedom, criticizing even the Communist Regime? At first, they avoided answering my question. They pretended they didnt hear. I asked again: Who is this provocative sage? Is he Socrates in the squares of the ancient Athens? An intrepid poet replied: He is Petru Tsutsa. He is my friend. I will introduce you to him. Tsutsa is an old man in his eighties, full of a vitality that emanates from his faith, compassion and his enormous solicitude to those who suffer. He was a barrister by formation, then became a linguistic professor in several languages and a great mystical philosopher. A cabinet minister of culture in the monarchic Rumanian regime of King Carol, he was a prominent personality with a strong Christian spirituality rising from the deep roots of his country. Before the Second World War, he had supported the famous dramatist Eugen Ionescu and the great writer Mircea Illeade. When the Communists assumed power in Rumania, Tsutsa was persecuted by the pro-Stalinists. He was imprisoned and tortured for a long time. He was released more than twenty years later. I noticed people were afraid to talk to him because he never thinks in the communist way. He was looking for the rules of GOD on earth. I met Tsutsa many times. He was an extremely happy person because he had nothing to lose in life. He sacrificed everything in his quest for Truth. He carried the cross of humanity and of his nation to the dungeon. When he came back to the sunlight, he was shining like a sun in
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our dark days. He scoffed at the systems of darkness, which aim to extinguish the light in our thoughts. Tsutsa, with his bright and enlightened face looked at me and said: Edgar Allan Poe said that fools seized power and persecuted others because they are fools. My dear, if you see Socrates coming towards you in this street, will you change direction and go to another street? I did not know how to answer him, but I replied asking him questions: Are you, Mr. Tsutsa, Socrates? I am not a genius. A genius thinks that he can change the world and so becomes stupid. He loses his senses. Are you a hero who martyrized himself for humanity with his strong faith emanating from the deep roots of his land? There are many heroes. The streets are full of them. I am not foolish to consider myself a hero. There is the HERO who can be anonymous and unknown. The good thing about the Hero is that his principle is stupid but at least he sacrifices himself and believes in it, he answered, laughing compassionately. Mr. Tsutsa, then you are a saint! I am not a saint. If I were a saint then you would not see me here. A saint is the highest selfless individual because he gives everything till he becomes nothing. He is nothing. He is in Nothingness! Mr. Tsutsa, I did not understand what you mean about the saint. You never need to understand. The genius is a fool because he always wants to understand. If you want to know what a saint is, then give yourself up till you become nothing, and then ask your question with the only adequate language: silence. Living is giving. There are three types of individuals who give. The genius is the lowest. He gives, believing he will change the world, and does not realize his stupidity. The second is the hero. He believes in stupid concepts but he is too stupid to know that they are stupid, and so gives his all. The third is the saint. He is the highest because, although he realizes the stupidity of everything, he continues until he reaches the top, which is Nothingness. I was not perceptive to what Tsutsa was saying. I felt all the energy coming from him vibrating in me. I became more provocative with my questions. Mr. Tsutsa, you did not tell me who you are?

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When I was in prison, the jailer asked me: who are you? I replied: I am Lenins colleague in hunger. We shared together misery and poverty.

A voice from prison -2I heard about Constantin Noica. Tsutsa had spoken of him. He is the greatest Rumanian philosopher. He is a free thinker, and a disciple of the German philosopher Heidegger. For his influential thoughts, he was imprisoned alongside Tsutsa for over twenty years.

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I wanted to know who is Noica. I went to the library and started to read his books. I read his last book Devinerea intru fiinta (Becoming in Existence). I was impressed by his thoughts and inspired by his spirit. All the ideas of his book moved my creativity and I expressed the world of Noica in a Rumanian classical poem, which I dedicated to him. The poem says:

The mirage of being

to Constantin Noica

I distinguish in me a twin tact Which beat in rhythm indefinite, They are not full but intact, From the beginning, infinite. In their pulse I feel my being Trying to go out from its rings, Striving with rebellion and seeing My silent end with broken wings. Multiplied in all, in all I am shining, But foreigner to the instant of halt In which I pulse from the beginning And reach always rather than bolt. Times closing key slams behind me A heavy door of space until my End. I watch in theft its openness to see What it brings, where me it will send. My unsleeping spirit beats to be free, Its echo vibrates me in every thing. I am a foreigner in myself; I am to be A nobody in all, an all in nothing. Towards the great openness I flounder But the thought falls down in a gap.
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Often I get chained and still remain under The allurement of baits in the Trap. When furious, I wait to go out From that which is my awful jail, I hear a deep inner voice about My lost ship in its Wind and Sail. From now and on a pulse of light Comes to my heart, it is so rare, Irrepressible in its flow and bright, Full of a stars harmony and flare. At the head of Time, at the Beginning, My uninvited Guest opens my cell to visit me On his spindle, my lifes thread is spinning And telling me who I am and what will I be.
Rached Elias Daoud

* * * I sent my poem alongside my two published books, Fascination of Time and Landing on Golgotha by mail to the philosopher professor Constantin Noica. He was living in a small wooden hut in the mountains of the Transylvanian city Sibiu. The place is called Paltimishe. Noica answered me with two successive letters, expressing great admiration for my poetry. He wrote: Dear Daoud, Thank you, in the name of my country. Thank you for your extraordinary contribution to our culture. I have a great admiration for your poetry. Your poems are extremely exceptional and unique in their universality, originality and lyricism. Your verse is rich with a message of compassion and spirituality. Humanity is in great need of your remarkable gift. Your thoughts are so warm. They bring to the human heart a stellar harmony. Thank you again for generously dedicating to me your poem. I will be glad if you can visit me in Paltimishe, With all my friendly love,

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Yours, C. Noica I read the letter and became impatient to visit Noica. On a winter morning I went by train to Sibiu. Then, a bus took me on a mountain road across a thick pine forest, and finally deposited me, at the end of the road, in Paltimishe. I walked between rows of cabins until I reached the worker's canteen. There, I found Noica. He was a 77 year old man sitting at a table eating breakfast: a soup of pork fat. Noica was happy to meet me. He smiled and his face shone like that of a saint. After a walk in the forest, he invited me to his cabin. I entered his small wooden temple, of about 2 square meters in area. His bed was covered with sheets of paper and many books were scattered on the floor. Noica was imprisoned by the communists for more than two decades because of his mysticism. In prison, he was all the time meditating, living in his cell like a hermit in a monastery, with great love to God and humanity. The Stalinists fulfilled his pleasure by arresting him. The jail gave him the opportunity to find a desired spiritual solitude: he found his interior happiness behind bars by meditating years in silence and humility, feeling constantly near God. I discussed with Noica different profound ideas about universal consciousness, our cosmic existence and our projections on the negative space and negative time axes. I read to Noica from my manuscript book of poems entitled Celestial eurythmy, in which I show the human dimensions on the scale of the Universe and our real cosmic model. I described to Noica how we, in this instant, are a mirror of the macro or the micro cosmos. Noica liked my logical views that can link science with spirituality at the point of Verticality. Later on, he supported my ideas in many meetings at the Rumanian academy where I was invited to reply with my verse to many questions laid by scientists. My purpose was to bring a world of compassion to the rigid esoteric thinking.

A poetic world in medicine

In the training hospitals of Cluj, the conditions of health care were miserable. There was penury of medical drugs to administer to the patients.

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The hospital systems of education and training were mechanical, and the medical approach to the patients was artless. Sometimes, the individual was treated as a biological machine and not as a human being. It was clear that such a medical approach was inadequate. I wanted to understand more of the human suffering and to deal with the patient as a system of Life and as a universal spirit. I realized that my relationship with the patient must be congruent with life and its Creator. It must be divine and built on the highest scientific human values. In the training hospitals, I found that the physicians were nice and loveable. They tried to administer to their patients the best they had learned. Sometimes, they were even more frustrated with the atmosphere of the hospital than I was. They felt a great need for the artistic and spiritual world in their work. They advised me, as a poet, to introduce my artistic skills in medicine. I did so by writing a book of poems about genetics, in which I spoke about our scientific biological realities and visions with tremendous compassion. The message was a warm appeal for making science aware of loosing its sense of values. My book of genetics was entitled, Landing on Golgotha. It was published in Cluj by Dacia, a well-known publishing house, in 1983. The University accepted my book as a medical thesis. For the first time in history poetry entered medicine or medicine entered poetry. The outstanding Rumanian geneticist Constantin Maximilian prefaced the book. C. Maximilian wrote in his preface:

POETRYS BIG QUESTIONS

I often ask myself, as indeed all biologists do, in what direction is genetics going? Its performance interests much less than its social, moral and political impact. I have no doubt that it will solve part of the severe uncertainties of the contorted end of this century. I also have no doubt that it will raise new uncertainties of at least the same severity as the present ones. Geneticists wish to control life. But their manipulations frighten us even if they appear as a far-off perspective. One day, on the scene of evolution, a strange species born from the test tubes of the dream of science will appear. Man will be changed for sure, a far more perfect being will appear. But in the plants of tomorrow they will create an army of identical individuals, thereby killing our sacred right of being unique.

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Are these impossible assumptions? Perhaps, but can anyone be sure? Nevertheless, I ask: Who will dare to inaugurate the first adventure in the unknown? Why? And for whom? It is necessary to have the answers written on the most generous orbits of our aspirations. This is imperative. Nobody can be sure of the result. Warnings come from everywhere, always more abundant, always more loaded with severe urgency. The survival of our specie is at stake. It is possible that we will disappear and with us will disappear the most amazing adventure of the Universe. This will be the price of our haughtiness. On the other hand, it can be humanitys greatest success. Discussions are continuously amplified, involving the whole community. Because the only reason for a science to exist is to improve the human conditions of those who are near to us and raise them to what we want them to be in our moments of superb lucidity. To support the geneticists came the philosophers, the sociologists, the psychologists and the jurists Only the poets are missing. Science believes that it has no need for poetry. And poetry did not find any inspiration in the arid discoveries of biology, in the loaded pages of the esoteric formulas of physics, in the sterile hypothesis of genetics of the past few decades. Daoud has appeared. His poetry is unusual. With him, everything is unusual. He approached genetics and the human being with his ancestral restlessness, with the imagination of the poet and the compassion of the physician, tortured with all the human miseries. He speaks with an almost strange language to us, who are used to the desert of facts, about our biological uniqueness and the mysterious beginning of life, about genetic errors and an eventual biological apocalypse, about the inevitable incest and the teratogenic medium. All have other resonance. Genetics becomes with Daoud something other than a science: it becomes poetry and trust, social responsibility and fear. His poetry includes all the fear and all the aspirations of genetics. Of course Daoud is not an optimist no geneticist can ever be an optimist. Daoud looks for the purpose of science, he stops to warn us. He is afraid that science will lose its senses, like the terrifying imagination of some sages \ gave birth to the monstrous experiment \ of which he can not suppress anymore, knowing that the most spectacular field of research, genetic engineering, the monstrous experiment, hides in it the planetary death germs: Immense is the
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cemetery \ carrying now its dead \ through space and time \ infesting the galaxy He salutes the birth of a normal child and vibrates painfully to the scream of death of children stigmatized by congenital malformation \ and flung with Spartan unyielding \ in the dark precipice of Taygetos \ towards the unconcealed joy of the Athenians Reading these thoughts I remembered the words of a famous geneticist: The birth of a normal child is an event of which we must be proud of. This affirmation may appear, for many, to be bizarre, but it must remain a helpless witness to the appearance of a child torn in pieces by the caprice of nature, and for understanding the weeping of parents suffocated by the hate of the gods and of the pain of Daoud. Of course, genetics has to bring immediate solutions for many of the tormenting problems of this century. It is expected of geneticists to transform the earth to a model planet for the rest of universe. What if genetics will dissolve our distrust of everybody, if it will substitute to our fear certain happiness? A chimera? Maybe not. Only then will we know if happiness exists and what it is. Raise up a statue carved from the Word \ on every planet \ from the galaxy of the Milky Way \ the sage who will create the gene of mans happiness Daoud is not only an unusual poet in the Rumanian language; he is also the poet of genetics. Genetics demands our poetry with the same justifications with which it demands our literature. The demand can be so acute, that, beginning with Daoud, genetics has a poet. Remarkable. By him serious science penetrates poetry or perhaps by him poetry penetrates biology. From now on, neither the gene, the chromosome, nor genetical engineering will ever have the same resonance. In the name of all those who leaned over the reverberation of science, dreaming of a world more warm, I thank you Daoud. And we all believe like you that dreams must not be killed.
Bucharest, may 1982

C. MAXIMILIAN
June 1983, I was graduated as a medical doctor. The examination of my diploma was to present my medical thesis which was in poetry. In front of a panel of

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professors who were the examination committee, I recited a cycle of poems of genetics from my book Landing on Golgotha. I warmed with my poetry the atmosphere of the dry medical examination room by reading the following poems:

I AM NOT IDENTICAL TO ANYBODY

I understand more and more: Individuality, Coat only, and only mine, On the measures of the Dimensions of genetics, Written in ciphered code And singing the traces of shuffled steps On the planet clay Of all the generations of my ascendants. I am I, Without other duplication That I can contemplate, A result of Mendeleiev lottery, With ugly attributes, or beautiful, Of a singular character. From the start I have received the dowry, From a play of love, A chromosomal repartition Which is to me, personal. From a pure happening, I am what I am, And never have the ability To be otherwise, Neither an another, Nor an other being, And neither, Especially, How you want me to be. In the infinite universe, I constitute, alone, a world On the steps of my ego, An impregnable fortress In which nobody can enter uninvited. Dont jolt,
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therefore, the gates!

FROM THE STORM OF THE BEGINNING

With all it was far seen An intrauterine death, The small embryo had a chance, One chance in a thousand, To survive, Going out stigmatized From the storm of the beginning. The chromosomal anomaly Which he carries, Passed from generation to generation Exploding terribly In descendants Who carry no guilt, Except of being born. It is the handicap Of whom you look with compassion: It is the child with the syndrome Down.

THE BIRTH OF A CHILDS TEAR

The child Has no need to hide his innocence Behind a mask, For the reason That he is so beautiful. In his naivet, He wonders why grown up people Are ugly, Wondering if he Will be the same. Unable to answer,

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He cries. Where are you, Gene of holy innocence To spread in the world?

Envy
The ambitious gamete The hero of the exhausting march Does his last step Throwing himself In the open arms of the ovule Penetrating the virgin membrane Seeking, crazy, the nucleus And kissing it with passion. Outside Remained millions of other gametes Who look with envy At the intimacy That is going on And of which They will remain bystanders. After that they die, Cursing their bad luck.

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LISTEN HOW GRASS GROWS!

Sharpen your hearing And listen How grows the blade of feeble grass, How weeps the crushed matter Of roots inserted deeply in the earth, How the rock is broken, humiliated, In face of green obstinacy, How the stalk rises up haughty, Crying with happiness Enclosed in flowers miracle, How the seed elaborates In a wonderful laboratory The chemistry of the perpetuity of species. Sharpen your hearing, And listen to the message Of the fantastic heredity, Written and In a genetic code Transmitted in the most chosen language of Nature. Listen And if you understand something Of this divine music Tell it also to me

GENESIS In the beginning were the cedars,

Then their moving shadows. But when the ardent lips of the desert Kissed the blue of the Mediterranean,

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Lebanon was born and the Phoenix; Then ancient Byblos and the alphabet, Prophetic Tyre Grand Sidon Ugarit, Majestic Baalbek And all the others. Among them, am I, A phenotype.

IN PERSPECTIVE, A NEW SPECIE

It seems that some schizophrenics Are on the way to demonstrate to humanity That a cell could be fabricated In the experimental conditions of a laboratory. And even if till now they did not make it, They will do it for sure Because somebody, a schizophrenic chief, Has put on disposition all the technique. They want, According to their program of research, To compress in a single day Many milliards of years of attempts And ready us to assist The birth of a new specie They will find others who will applaud.

HUMAN HAPPINESS GENE (H.H.G.)

Raise up a statue carved in the Word In every planet Of the Milky Way galaxy, To the sage

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Who will create the human happiness gene, The genius Who will find his dominant place In the chromosome. Write his everlasting name On the iconostasis of the Infinite, To be kept Forever and ever.

GENES SILENCE
Say to me gene, say A tiny bit of something: What is my real way Which youll bring? Who wrote your code Of how to behave, Stabilized in a mode Unfolded in lifes wave? Why in you is hidden The cipher of a secret day When Ill be forbidden On earth more to stay? Tell me, can you bring Me happiness to fly, In my dreams to sing Forever, and never die? Why hide you a Sign, In secret you keep The order of your Reign To go to my Big Sleep?

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The examination committee was very impressed by my artistic spirit in biology and in medicine. The professors were very affected with my extraordinary feelings towards humanity. Professor Z from the examination committee said: I congratulate doctor Daoud on his original and unusual thesis of medicine in poetry. His poems show amazing abilities to feel the suffering of our planet, of humanity and of every human being. His poetic compassion can heal the systems and the individual. I believe that the medical practice of Daoud will be full of spirituality and art like his poetry and by this way he will energize the patient to overcome his illness. I suggest to Daoud to introduce his artistic and spiritual creativity to his clinical work. His model of looking to medicine and science is extremely needed by all of us.

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History in the graves

As usual, I walked one morning by Clujs Somesh River. I crossed the bridge, and followed the road to the park. The park was silent with its melancholic autumn feelings. The rustle of golden leaves broke the atmosphere of loneliness. Two romantic and sweet gypsy lovers were hugging each other under a plane-tree and a dog was watching. I left the park to go to the city center. On my way I met many girls, who wished to talk to me, amused by my eccentric character. I reached the city center, which was built in past centuries in the gothic style and entered the caf Arizona, situated near the Continental hotel, where the poets meet. There, I met a group of writers and artists who were my colleagues in the Association of Writers. We were sharing together the misery common to creative and free thinking people. I left the caf, wishing to meditate near a gravestone decayed by years of rain and wind, and to visualize myself in a dark grave, forgotten by time. I walked on the lane among the trees leading to the graves. In the peaceful district of the dead, I felt their spirits looking at me from the other side of the Aheron River. Their flames were white. I sat down on a stone under a wild chestnut tree. I meditated looking at the huge trunk of the tree. I felt it was growing up to prepare for me, from its wood, a coffin. Then, I searched with all my frustrated imagination to find my cross which I would carry with me in my everlasting journey in the universe: On the silent slope of the hill Under a shadow of a nut tree A lonely and sad cuckoo is still Singing to the deaf cemetery Black cross, White cross On the end of blind grave Were rustling lead across Every heart in lifes wave There will stop my hack Putting me down in clay

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What cross white or black Did I carry on the way? My cross which I carried Here, upon me there will it be Once, my body is buried, Good deeds will resurrect me. The fog of poetic inspiration left me. My imagination returned back on earth. I opened widely my eyes and enjoyed reading the epitaphs and watching how my last home would look like. I heard strange steps behind me. I looked but there was nobody. I felt like a shadow was moving around, as if ready to strangle me. What can it be, so close to the end of the day? A cold sweat and the smell of silence filled me. My eyes gazed around to see if there was a ghost haunting me. Suddenly, the head of a man with white hair emerged from inside a vault, dragging himself between death and life. A hoarse voice broke the silence saying: What are you doing here, are you interested in buried history? I looked to see who this figure might be. Could it be a dead man come back to life? A ghost? A mad man who ran from the asylum and hid in the cemetery, running from tyranny? A thief? A secret police? I was very scared. But the man with the white hair felt my fear and said: Dont be afraid, I am Vasi. I am a history researcher, bringing buried history back to life. I am searching the graves to see if the tyrants buried here are still tyrants. I laughed at myself. Thank God! A sigh of relief came out of me. I walked up to the historian Vasi. I shook hands with him and introduced myself. Vasi knew me, for he had read my books. He saw me several times in television programs. He was longing to meet me and was glad it happened so naturally. Vasi was a man of culture lost among the graves. He did studies on all the epitaphs in Rumania, until he found the real history of his country. I asked Vasi why his research is concentrated on gravestone epitaphs. He replied: History is a teller of truth, it never lies: it is based on documents and witnesses. The gravestones do not lie. Their epitaphs escape communist censorship. I want to bring back dead Rumania to life. After that meeting in the cemeteries, Vasi and I became great friends. He introduced me to the summits of Rumanian culture. He noted
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all my literary activities in his manuscripts because he considered that my emergence in Rumanian spirituality is a unique phenomenon and must be noted on the pages of history.

My dark days in Bucharest

After I graduated, in the autumn of 1983 from the university of Cluj with a medical degree, the war in Lebanon was getting worse. I felt it was difficult to return back to my country and live in such terrible conditions. Hence I decided to continue my studies in Rumania specializing in physical medicine. I did not have the financial possibilities to pay the fees for the three years of specialization. I thought that the best

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thing to do was to ask the Rumanian authorities to grant me a scholarship. I felt justified in soliciting a scholarship because, in addition to being a renowned poet in their language, I was also an excellent student, and especially because I contributed effectively in enriching Rumanian culture. I had won the admiration of many personalities ranging from politicians, writers and university professors. Also, the Rumanian people welcomed my presence in their country. I left Cluj to spend some time in Bucharest. I was the walking companion of my friend Vasi, who, as I said, was a researcher in history. We were going together in the Rumanian capital from one place to another asking the authorities for a scholarship. My stay in Bucharest awaiting a scholarship from the communist regime, was the most difficult time in my life. My friend Vasi and I had no place of our own to spend the cold, gray, suffocating winter of Bucharest. We looked for lodging with friends. But for me, that was difficult, because the government forbade close relationships between Rumanians and foreigners. If a Rumanian would lodge me for a night, the police could arrest or at least fine him. One cold night of January, none of my friends asked me to stay with him and, having no money to rent a room in a hotel, I went to the train station and slept there on a chair in the waiting room. Early the next morning, I went back to the city center trying to find somewhere to spend the night, but my search was fruitless. Vasi also had no place to spend the night. He warned me to be careful because he feared we were watched by the secret police and may be in for trouble, because they hate people of culture. I calmed him down, saying that real creativity is done only by sacrifice. The next morning, at nine oclock, I had an appointment with Mr. M., the cultural secretary of president Ceaucescu, in the presidential office. The secretary promised me to solve my problem and will get me a scholarship, and even that I will be honored by Ceaucescu, for my great cultural realizations for Rumania. Vasi insisted on remaining with me till I am settled down. Unable to find a place to spend the night, we went to the train station waiting room, but the railway inspector expelled us out at midnight. We wandered in the streets of Bucharest in the chilly weather. We arrived, exhausted, to the vicinity of the presidential palace, where we sat on a bench whiling away with excitement the few hours left till 9 oclock. The temperature was about minus 17C. We were freezing and the rhythm of our respiration and of our heartbeats became slower and slower. We felt dizzy. We tried to find a warm place, but could not. Cold had
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paralyzed us, and we feared that we would soon collapse in hypothermic shock, and will loose consciousness. Suddenly, two police officers came to interrogate us. They were very rude. They asked us what we were doing there at 3 A.M. We explained to them who we were and our situation. Vasi told the police that we were not thieves or criminals or lunatics. He presented me as a great poet and himself as a historian. One of the policemen was aggressive, he raised his hand and slapped Vasi saying: Write this slap in your historical texts and follow me both to the police station. The police officers took us in the back of their car to the Bucharest central police station. There, they arrested Vasi for a few days for violating the law that forbids relations with a foreigner, and retained me through the night and until midday. I enjoyed enormously the warmth of the police station. I realized that, had the police not arrested me, I would have for sure died of cold on the awful bench near Ceaucescus palace. I was extremely grateful for what the police had done to me. They beat me and thereby warmed my body and brought my frozen blood back to its normal circulation. That night, the stay in a room warmed by the central heating and by hidden anger, healed my hypothermic disorders. I thought that the police was sent from God to save my life. The next day at twelve oclock, I was set free. The police ordered me to leave the country and go back to Lebanon saying that I had no right to stay anymore in Rumania because I had finished my medical studies. On my way out, a police officer X dressed in civilian asked me with cynicism: Did you enjoy your night with us? At any time my dear Lebanese, you are our guest I replied X saying truthfully and sincerely: Thank you! My stay here last night was wonderful. It was really a miracle. Your bringing me here saved my life. At the moment when my blood was freezing and my heart was going to stop, God sent you to bring me here and protect me in your warm station. Thanks to you, I have a new lease on life. Thank you and thank God. The unruly officer looked at me with hate and anger. He thought that I was making fun of him. He did not like me pronouncing the word God. He could not understand my gratitude. It seemed to him that I was insulting the Communists. He shook me violently saying: Shut up and leave quickly or well accommodate you otherwise

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Leaving the police station at mid-day, I tried to contact the secretary of Ceaucescu with whom I had a meeting that morning. I wanted to apologize and explain why I was not able to come to the appointment. Since that day, Mr. M. never wished to speak to me, without giving any reason. Furthermore, all my literary activities in Rumania were forbidden and censured. The magazines and newspapers refused to publish any of my poems. Two of my original manuscripts of poetry Euritimii Celeste and Anamnaza tragica were lost in the publishing firms. Suddenly, all the doors in Rumania became closed to me. Only one door was left open to me: the door of leaving Rumania and returning back to Lebanon. At last, I came to prefer returning to my country and live in the hell of war under the fire of bullets and bombs, rather than live under the mercy of the suffocating and chilly totalitarian regime of Rumania.

The rejected revelation

In February 1984, I left Rumania and returned back to Lebanon to live in my village in the midst of the war that was still devastating my country. Pain and grief were everywhere. My motherland, dressed in black, was mourning her slaughtered innocent children. Many Lebanese were injured, traumatized or killed. Many more indulged in hate, greed and perfidiousness. But many also resisted every temptation making use of all their deep-rooted ancestral spiritual values. They challenged misery and the epidemic materialistic negativity of the war. Their spirit remained unspoiled. They remained pure like saints and as firm as the Holy Cedars. They incarnated the spirit of our divine Phoenician bird, the Phoenix who regenerates his homeland, Lebanon, from its ashes.

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The war was a result of the hidden misery of human nature. On its scenes the masks fell down and we explored the cancer of ignorance After the war, many eyes will be opened, but also many more will remain blind In my village, I started to work as a general practitioner. I loved everybody, even those who exploited me. I never cared for worldly things. I gave up my material possessions to retain a free spirit. I dedicated myself to heal the sick. In my village, I often enjoyed walking in the beautiful nature, in the fields and the paths leading to the mountain tops. One day in March, I woke up in the cold morning. Snow covered the mountains and hills around my village. Everything was dressed in white. Trees looked like almonds in flower. The sun was bright and warmed the late winter climate. That day, enjoying the fresh air of the coming Spring, I climbed the high rocky cliffs near the top of a mountain overlooking the deep mystic valley. There I stood in silence watching the immaculate white of the wilderness following a snowy night. Suddenly, in the shadow of the huge rocks and strange caves, the sight of an old monastery caught my eyes and attracted me. I entered the monastery to pray and meditate. An old Monk appeared and came to me. His face shone with a light of humbleness and peace. He looked as if he was emerging from hundreds of years spent in the caves of the monastery. A deep silence came down on me. I stood perplexed in front of an unusual spiritual world. The spirit of the old Monk shone on me, before he disappeared without a word. I often used to go secretly to the monastery and pray for the Monk to appear. He was an anonymous saint. One day, I visited the monastery in extremely difficult spiritual circumstances. I prayed God with tears for help. Suddenly, a light shone around me. The Monk came up to me with fatherly compassion on his face. I knelt before him and opened my heart in confession with tears and a burning heart. I asked him for help and guidance in the suffocating darkness surrounding me. He touched me and I immediately felt cleaned of the worlds dirt. I was filled with the Holy Spirit. I was not lonely and abandoned anymore. He strengthened me with a heavenly power and gave me the Light. Suddenly, for the first time the saintly monk talked. He gave me a divine pattern to follow through my life. He said: Many people have lost their spiritual values, love them and pray for them. Do not seek like them money and material possessions, but to enrich your soul with Gods mercy. Let your deeds be fruits of love that

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heal every heart and bring happiness to the poor. If the people will jeer at you, love them more till they become aware of their shortcomings. Give up all your possessions and strengthen yourself with love. If you posses nothing, you will have nothing to worry about. Be a free spirit unconditioned by this materialistic world and unaffected by its manipulative emotional domination. Look only for the highest principles in life. Do not sell your inside goodness for worldly pleasure. If you do, you will loose your right for happiness. Do not compromise and betray yourself. Dont be afraid of the world. Endeavor not to be used by the world like a tool. Heed worldly conditions but live your interior truth. Do not let anything rule your heart and freeze its warmth. Do not let anything kill your spirit and quiet your inner voice and smash your feelings. Do not let anything condition you in the name of general good: you are not a robot in the service of anything or anyone. Do not be a mummy but let the burning light and the truth inside you always flourish. You have the creative free will to choose for yourself your way and how to behave. Let love rule your relations with others. Do not kill the gratuitous generosity of God-given-gifts with selfishness, nor let it be wasted by greed. Your generosity must obey the will of its Creator by loving your neighbor more than yourself. Let your generosity help people and bind them to their genuine spiritual roots. Tell them to be congruent with our modern technological civilisations and with the complex financial systems. Tell them how to use the advances of science to support and enrich their spirituality and to bring happiness to the planet. The systems must serve humanity by enlightening the individuals and turning them away from selfishness and arrogance People must be careful not to succumb to materialistic megalomania: there are many in our societies who risk to be infected with that illness, do not judge them, but love them even if they exploit you. They are rude but they are not evil. They are in conflict with themselves and they project their anxieties on others and you may misunderstand them. Love them even if they hate you. Let your love take their frustrations and heal them by absorbing and sharing their pain. Instill in them interior peace and harmony. Many, worried about worldly things, are insecure and anxious in life. They are afraid of what tomorrow might bring. They are addicted to material things, unaware that by giving, they get more, and if they give everything they will get Everything. These people do not realize that our life is sustained only by Gods mercy.
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Be compassionate towards those who seek worldly pleasures instead of God. They do not know that they are creating for themselves a negative stress. They detached their self-consciousness from the spring of Light and the energy of Life. Their universal homeostasis became unbalanced and they lost their happiness. They became a target to any disease. Pray for them. Heal their pain. Dedicate yourself with all your medical skill to relieve their suffering. Inspire them with the true meaning of life. When you treat them, do not charge them money, ask them instead to open their heart to universal compassion. Use your profession to heal and to show the power of the Lord. Many, through their personal experience of suffering, may come to know their Father in Heaven. Challenge, with your light, all the darkness trying to suffocate you. Listen to your inner voice and not to the worldly sirens tempting you. God will be with you always if you follow my advice. Do not worry if your fellow men will hate you for your good deeds. Give them all your love and pray for them. One day they may get closer to God than you. When you approach a patient, pray for him in your heart and God will listen to you and will help you to heal him. Do not forget the ancestral message of your holy Lebanon, delivered by the Prophets, while using your medical practice: It is the sick who need a doctor. Keep secret my words till the right time, and be always humble and pious. It is much better for many to consider you very simple or even a fool, then to give you importance and praise your deeds in their salons. The message, which you will carry to the world is extremely more important than you. Downgrade your ego to enable this healing message to work. All what I said will happen to you. Accept it with happiness. The Lord who will always be with you has sent me here to tell you this and to strengthen your faith, because you will pass through very difficult situations in your spiritual journey. I woke up from my trance, and found myself lying on the floor, wet with tears. I raised my head up to see the saint. He was not here. A beam of light was leaving the room of the monastery from a small window. I came back home and woke up to my reality. My mind rejected all that happened during my meeting with the monk. I never wanted to believe what I saw or be affected by what I heard. For sure this was an illusion, or an emotional reflection, or a positivist humanitarian dream. It was stupid to think and to tell about that experience. I never wanted to be haunted by such mystical delirium. I thought that I must be careful not to
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fall again in such hallucinations for fear of becoming sick with paranoia, or schizophrenia, or megalomania. What happened to me in the monastery may have come from my frustrations at home and in the society or through lack of communication with society, because I was vulnerable to the way others behaved towards me. Maybe, in the monastery, I was in a psychic state that comes from an unconscious emotional necessity. Any way it is not useful to speak about what I could not understand. I rejected from my mind the story of the monastery and the monk and followed only my human principles of healing the sick. Where love called me, I went. I left everything behind and carried the fire of my heart

My medical experience in Lebanon

As a physician, I had to believe only in science and its palpable reality. I accepted intellectual rational thinking as the only way to deal with things. I wanted to perceive only the things that I could test at any time with an objective approach and morphological thinking, and thereafter could teach to others. I acknowledged that science still has many things to discover about the mysteries of the mind and extrasensorial phenomena. I never liked to waste my time with absurd or esoteric fantasy. I had to look after my patients, to treat them, to subscribe to them drugs and to follow up their medical cases in the hospitals. There were so many in my village and its vicinity that needed health care. I became preoccupied with them. My passion and obsession were to practice my profession to heal others from physical illness. I was extremely busy. I did not have time to think how to earn money, to go to church, or even to think of poetry... I conditioned myself to spend all my time to help patients, carrying my stethoscope, my sphygmomanometer and first aid pharmaceutical drugs. In the Lebanese society, it was extremely difficult for me to communicate socially with the common people. I found that the only way
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to have a relationship with people was through my medical practice. I spent all my time to find adequate treatments for my patients, to fulfil their expectations and to feel respected and not rejected by the community. I treated more than fifteen thousand patients with different illnesses. Most of my patients had chronic diseases. My medical practice spread to different places ranging from my home to the homes of my patients, to a Beirut clinic, and throughout the war, to battlefields and shelters. I was only interested in helping those who suffer. I had enormous pleasure in my healing results. I loved my work. It gave me more confidence in life. Because my medical practice was my great passion, I practiced it most of the time free of charge or just asking my patient to sleep and eat at his home, for the least they could offer one who has healed them is to offer him shelter and food. Some people made fun of me for living such a bohemian life. I did not heed them because my only concern was to heal my patient. I lived the pain of every patient. My only approach to the patient was with compassion and my only object was to heal him. Because, I was extremely open-minded, my patients became fascinated by my curing results. People soon expected me to treat many hopeless cases. I had always no choice but to do my best and to invent new medical treatments based on my own objective research. I tried a new medical approach based on the following steps: The first was a new morphologic-anatomic approach to a diagnosis based on physical and functional observations. The second step was a new physical technique of treatment that offered no risk to the patient. The third was to imagine an immediate way of testing the response to the treatment and evaluating the approximate result. The fourth was the evolution and duration of the therapy. The fifth was the final healing result and prognosis. Many patients with different muscular and skeletal disorders that do not respond to pharmaceutical drugs, to physiotherapy or to a surgical operation became disappointed that there was no cure for them and presented their cases to me. I placed the diagnosis in a functional and biomechanical direction. I studied their medical disorder psychologically as well as somatically. I explored every patients syndrome, as a unique case dependent on his individuality and self-consciousness, and then imagined how to deal effectively with the case and how to apply eclectic biomechanical therapeutic techniques. I invented new methods and skills of physical therapy based on the degree of resistance in skeletal tissues adapted to the psychosomatic natural balance. I tried all these approaches whenever the problem of the patient could not be solved by traditional
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orthodox medical practice. There was no risk in my new way of treatment and my first bio-technical healing session showed a positive result on the patient from the first treatment. I noted all the successful therapeutic manipulations and procedures and tried them again and again on different patients having the same symptoms until I mastered my technique. To my surprise, I sometimes found that, by massaging a certain painful area of a cervical spondiliosis or lumbago, the patient not only got relief from the pain and kinetic improvement, but also that his cardiac disorder, diabetes or blood hypertension were improved. I did a lot of studies on my methods of physical therapy and on the psychological constitution of the patient. At long last, I realized that the patient could be healed holistically. I was also surprised by the fact that a good therapy technique for a certain disease may give a positive result on one patient but no result on another having the same disorder until his spirituality is touched. I observed that diseases are not only a biological disorder but information and energy obstructions in the channels of our systems of communication. At this point I developed certain statements to serve as an introduction to my healing theory. This theory describes how healing works indifferent of the reality of the individual as well as of the applied methods and techniques. Its resources range from drugs to physical therapy and also from faith and a shift of consciousness. At the end, I succeeded in obtaining fantastic healing results in the treatment of different diseases. The following is a synopsis of my theory applying allopathic and complementary medicine:

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An introduction to the theory of healing

The principles of the theory: The uncertainty and disharmony of stress encountered in life produce an unspecified informational signal which must be controlled in order to obtain a homeostasis in the presence of negative entropy. In this mechanism the information and the energy feedback must be kept in dynamic equilibrium. This extensive feedback circuitry, adapted to stress, is reflected in non-linear oscillatory responses. In adapting to stress, our free will can be a homeostatic regulator accepting or rejecting information. It is the switch that opens or closes our system to stress impulses. It determines how we receive information, perceiving stress inputs either as a negative stress (distress) or as a positive stress (eu-stress) which can be a creative force in our awareness. Disease can be seen as obstructions in the regulatory functioning of the free will in managing information. Are human beings an energetic system of molecules governed by blind quantum reactions? Or are they super-intelligent expert systems (robots) programmed by life? My opinion is that every individual is a complex informational-energetic system with the unique feature of free will, which allows him to manage stress through personal creative adaptation. Millions of channels, from the molecular to the cellular to the social, convey information. These channels of communication all function on the basis of negative or positive feedback.

Decoding the stress-information message

The individual, as a receiver, translates stress into reactions, signs and symptoms. The particular forms that stress takes whether physical, emotional, mental, social or spiritual depend on the individuals consciousness.

The mechanism
When information (awareness) increases, entropy decreases. Our purpose in life is to develop our informational capacity in order to decrease entropy. We challenge our biological conditioning, which is always in the direction of positive entropy, by opening our informational system on our awareness to life, or universal compassion. As long as we are governed by biological reality, we are in distress, but we can escape from it. The mechanism of awareness is to become an informational system. This happens naturally when we surrender our selfishness (addiction to matter, possessions etc.). We use our free will to choose to be aware. A balance must be found between created energy

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(matter) and information. Created energy always tends towards chaos. Information (awareness of the universal rules or of lifes order) tends towards order; through it we become universal. The catalyst is free will. When we become unconditioned (selfless), we become an open system. When there are obstructions to free will between created and uncreated energy, we are a closed system. The healing process endeavors to take away information barrages, which cause disease: judgmental attitudes conditioned states, addiction, influentiality, dependency, over-analytical and separatist tendencies. Diseases have a meaning. They tell us what to do with ourselves in order to be in harmony with life. When our free will removes the barrages to information, thereby opening us to universal compassion, healing results. The patient loses the fear of dropping his mask and becomes compassionate and confident. To move from the biological to the universal, a person must find his individuality and accept his creativity. We must realize that we are channels of a universal subtle energy, or compassion. Barrages in this channel of information can be observed in our relationship with others and in our attitude towards ourselves. We must inspire or enlighten our free will to open this channel so that we may reach universal harmony. It can be said that the purpose of suffering is to strip away our everyday masks and preoccupations so that we are enabled, in humility, to communicate with a universal force that is superior to our ambitions.

Healing in practice
Psychological defense mechanisms, in response to stress, act as obstructions to the system of communication at any point in the physical, emotional, mental, social and spiritual circuits, thereby causing distress and illness. Not every distress is physical. Even when it is of a physical nature (e.g. physical trauma), it affects the entire circuit. Psychological fear increases cortisone secretions leading to immunological deficiency. Symptoms are either psychosomatic or somatic-psychic disorders having a spiritual cause and meaning. Psychotic illnesses are obstructions in communication between the patient and society, but they may be reflected in the body. Healing must address all these obstructions physical, mental, emotional, social, spiritual so that we can be integrated into the totality. In healing, we work on the patients free will in order to help him perceive his responsibility for these obstructions. This responsibility brings a sense of harmony within us and towards others. The roots of the illness lie in the psychological attitudes towards life. The symptoms simply mask a disorder in communication. In medical practice we must work on the patients free will in order to open up lines of communication. Certain attitudes of life act as barriers to healing. Being rigid, judgmental, possessive, conditioned, skeptical, suspicious, manipulative, euphoric or apathetic, or feeling victimized or rejected what

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Pascal calls simply the human disease of vanity any of these, needs to be worked upon, for they are barriers to lifes awareness, and this is the real illness. When one is vain, one cannot see the universe surrounding him. Through the healing process people feel energetic and able to assume responsibility for their lives. They feel compassion for others and harmony within themselves. They feel inspired, realizing that their illness brings them inspiration. They no longer feel patients in the traditional sense, that is, victims. They are able to let go of the need to judge and manipulate, and live in a more meditative way. They feel confident in their feelings and their faith and acquire the flexibility of the artist in their thinking. They feel able to adapt creatively to situations. At the same time they feel humility in the place of arrogance. They feel selfless in their relations with others, and become aware of their inner moral code. This way of living is the result of acting as an open system in harmony with the universe. They are in a state receptive to the grace of universal compassion (faith). The healing process is in effect preparing the patient to receive this grace (the opening of consciousness). The patient becomes a conduit or a channel for this subtle energy. The healer never in fact heals, but rather acts as a moral support, confirming the healing process. This psychological shift involved is always accompanied by changes in physical parameters, as shown by clinical tests.

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Meditations
At the end, The Master of life wondered In what language should he communicate To awaken in you the dawns of his Infinity, And to invite you to the banquet of happiness. His messengers blew the Horn, But your ears did not hear Because they were deafened By Sirens noises. He then revealed his miracles, But your eyes did not see Because they were blinded By the charm of darkness, And of worldly pleasure shows. Frustrated from extreme compassion And in painful and panic situations, The Creator, your great Father, at the end Found pain to be the only remaining language That would make you listen To his message of salvation and love And find your healing journey. Listen to your pain Till peace fills your heart. Listen to your pain, To the moans of the angels To the cry of matter to save life Do you know, or may be you will know, That the white wings of your thoughts Will grow up from your sufferings. In pain, your stars burn to give light, Becoming shining rays of happiness Filling the Universe for forever

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MEDICAL HEALING STORIES

These stories happened in Lebanon during the war (1984-1989). They are the proof of the success of my professional approach. They are unusual because my medical approach to the patient was strange and the social conditions during the war were bizarre. These stories are entitled as follows: A wild surgical operation; Hanna and the priest; A slap can heal; The donkey is a teacher; The donkey is my teacher; My medical prayer; Love heals the paralytic; Healing tales The woman who challenged death.

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The wild surgical operation

One summer day, while I was working in the field near my house, picking grapes for the winery, a militia jeep stopped at the front door. Two militiamen carrying guns, rushed up, calling at the top of their voice: Doctor, doctor, please come quickly. I hurried towards them to see what was the problem. When I reached them, I saw a woman crying in tears and holding her ten-year-old son in her lap. What is the matter? I asked. The woman replied: My son fell from the roof to the ground. He is dizzy. He cannot speak. The right side of his head is swollen and he is vomiting. I do not know what is the matter with him. Please help me doctor and see quickly my son. We carried the boy to my room at the ground floor. I examined him very quickly. His case was of extreme urgency. His muscles were getting hypotonic. His right eye pupil was slightly enlarged. He was going to loose consciousness. I examined the child, his head was severely swollen on the right temporal region of the cranium. I felt a heavy subdural hemorrhage was going on. Already, a big hematoma was getting bigger and bigger, compressing the brain tissues. It would raise the intracranial pressure, contuse the cerebral nerve tissues and may cause a cerebral oedema. The boy was in a state of stupor. If the hematoma is left to swell for half an hour more, the boy would have irreversible brain damage and would die. The collected blood under the temporal bone was increasing and pressing more and more on the cortex. Urgently, there was a great need for a quick blood surgical evacuation. If I would send the patient to the nearest hospital which is in the city of Byblos more than one hours drive away, he would die on the road. Moreover, that day heavy artillery shelling and snipers closed all the roads leading to my village. The day before, sniper bullets in the head killed two young men from a nearby village while they were driving their cars on the road some ten kilometers from my village. And another day, two persons from my village were kidnapped from their car, at a military checkpoint and were found a week later slaughtered and thrown under a bridge. What could I do to the young boy in such a situation? I had just started practicing medicine in my village. I did not have a room in my parents house to use as a clinic, and no medical instruments.
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Nevertheless, I could not leave this ten-year-old boy to die! Could I shun the responsibility and tell the boys mother to take him to the nearest hospital, knowing that he will die for sure on the way? I was in a dilemma with no medical assistant or a physician to help me in such a difficult operation and share the responsibility with me. I looked in the pupil of the poor sweet boy. It was more enlarged! His vomiting had stopped. His body became extremely flabby. His right head temporal bone became more swollen. Now his case was very severe. He was becoming drowsy and started to loose consciousness. I looked at the young boys poor mother who was crying and imploring me to do anything to help her son. I looked at the two gunmen, who brought the boy in the jeep. They looked very aggressive and wild. I had no doubt that they were war criminals, bent on stealing and killing. They were pressing me to help the boy in a threatening way. I weighed the awful situation and asked the woman: Theres nothing I can do for your son, his case is tragic! She replied between sobs: Doctor, help my son! Save his life! Go on do something, God will lend you a hand! The words of the mother shook my heart. I was almost ready to cry with her. Suddenly I became inspired with the idea of doing something to drain the meningeal blood before its pressure kills the boy. There was no time to wait. I looked around in the room. A wild compassion and a crazy inspiration came to me. In the corner of the room, I saw a hammer and a big very sharp new nail. I rushed there picking the nail and the hammer, and came up to the boy. I did not see what was happening around me. A white fog blurred my eyes covering the images of the woman and the two gunmen. My inner voice was telling me: Go on! Your life is not more important than the boys life. Die with him or live with him! Suddenly, I put the sharp head of the nail on top of the swollen part of the parietal head of the boy. I knocked the nail in the skull and holed the boys cranium parietal bone. Blood splashed out all over the place and even on his mothers face. The boy screamed and his mother wailed, fainted and fell down on the floor. My mother and the neighbors rushed to see what was happening. The two gunmen thought that I killed the boy. They lifted the woman from the floor and my mother took care of her, then they put their guns on my head and shouted aggressively at me saying: You killed the boy. You are not a doctor. You are a criminal. We will shoot you in the head, now is your end.
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Bravely and confidently, I confronted the ignorant terrorizing gunmen and replied: Dont worry, calm down! I have saved the childs life by releasing the pressure of the blood accumulating in his head, which would have damaged his brain. Hurry up with me to the nearest hospital. Now the boy can reach the hospital safely. I did a quick neurosurgical operation to stop the bleeding and any risk of infection. The boy is still alive. I have trepanned his skull with the nail because I did not have other tools at my disposal, otherwise the boy would have died. Please, listen to me! There will always be enough time for you to kill me. I will go with you to the hospital, and on our way we will take a Red Cross ambulance from one of the military bases to be able to avoid the snipers on the roads. There is an emergency, let us go! The gunmen and the women agreed and overcame the terrible shock of seeing the blood. We took the boy to the hospital and on the way switched over to an ambulance. Shells were falling from everywhere. Throughout the drive, I concentrated on the boy, using all my medical skill. By the time we arrived at the hospital, the boy was better. I felt relaxed that my patient escaped from haemorrhage shock and from brain damage. I entered alone quickly carrying the boy to the emergency ward and asked for the neurosurgeon to come quickly. He came and I told him all the story of the boy. I told him how I treated the boy with the hammer and nail. He looked at me with a strange look, then examined the boy. The neurosurgeon thought at first that I am a primitive sadistic person or a medical sadist. He scrutinized me and angrily addressed me, saying: You killed the boy! You are crazy! I cannot take the responsibility of doing anything for the child after what you did for him. I tried to explain to my colleague the whole situation but he would not listen. I did not blame him because our medical books do not speak of a brain operation with a hammer and a nail. I looked attentively at the boy in the emergency room and noticed that his case needed quick attention. The neurosurgeon must save his life. I put my hand on the neurosurgeons arm and said: Look doctor, operate on the boy. If you do not succeed I will take the full responsibility. The neurosurgeon, suspicious of my unusual behavior, refused to talk to me anymore. I felt that he was planning to run away. I grabbed his arm aggressively, saying:

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Listen to me! Let us take the boy quickly to the operation block and save his life, before he dies of bleeding. If you do not do as I say, then the two militiamen waiting outside will shoot us. As if to mark my words, the two militiamen entered menacingly to the emergency ward. They became crazy when they saw that nobody was taking care of the boy. The neurosurgeon became pale. Pointing their guns at my head and at the head of the neurosurgeon, they said: We will kill both of you doctors if you dont save the childs life. I looked at my colleague and fear made us smile to each other and then he said: Let us take the boy to the operation room and do our work and lay the outcome in Gods hands. The blood tests showed a mild hemorrhage. The scanner showed that the hematoma from a big area of the cerebral hemispheres was drained after a primitive trepan and so there was no need for further surgery. My intervention with hammer and nail proved to have replaced successfully an elaborate surgical operation. All the neurosurgeon had to do was to prescribe a blood transfusion and antibiotics. Within a week, the boy had recovered. It took the militiamen several months to forgive my driving the nail into the boys skull, and for the people to stop being scared of me. But never mind what others say or do: sometimes to save a person you may have to risk your life!

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Hanna and the priest

One day at four oclock in the morning, I woke up at the sound of knocking on the door. My mother opened the door and found two men standing before her. She asked: What do you want? They answered: We want the doctor to come with us. Our father is dying and before expiring, he asked to see your son, the doctor. We do not want him to treat our father. We only want to fulfil his desire as a consolation. Please hurry and wake the doctor up before our father dies before he can see him. My mother asked them: You are sure that now he is dying? Yes he is an old person in his eighties and was treated in many hospitals. The doctors in the last one sent him home to die with his family around him. We are now preparing his funeral. We have already bought the coffin. If he is dying, why do you want my son to visit him? Because he insisted to see your son before he spends his last breath. We want the doctor to come with us now as a good-will visit. Otherwise, people will blame us. My mother (superstitious): Perhaps what your father wants is to take my son with him. While dressing hurriedly, I heard the conversation, determined to go and see the old man. I took along my medical kit in case I might need to help the old man to die in peace by giving him a very strong hypnotic and painkillers. I went with the two brothers to see their father. Upon entering the house, I saw a crowd sitting around an old person, waiting for his death. The moribund lay in bed, in a state of stupor, his name was Hanna. The people sitting around him told him in a loud voice that I had come to see him, but with no response. Then his two sons came near to see if their father was still conscious. They shook him gently saying: Hanna, Hanna, the doctor has come to see you. Suddenly, the old man woke up from his lethargy lifted himself and sat on the bed, then climbed down from the bed and walked. The assistance, seeing the old man coming back from what seemed to them death, to life, saw in this a miracle. They acclaimed me. They saw that my presence had given the old man a new lease on life.

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I, myself, upon seeing the change in Hanna, became enthusiastic and believed that I might be able to cure Hanna and prevent him from dying. Upon examining him, I diagnosed renal insufficiency and disorders in the cardiac rhythm. However serious his case, I felt that administering to him certain new pharmaceutical products might save his life. At least, I thought it was worth trying. At any rate, and if the worst comes to the worst and he dies, nobody will blame me, since everybody was expecting his death any minute. His relatives gave me a free hand to do what I wanted! I started by giving him in profusion several medical drugs, ranging from vitamins, diuretics, cardiac tonics and even corticoids. After half an hour of medical treatment, the patient suddenly entered in a cardiac shock and was in a state of clinical death. His heart nearly stopped beating. A few villagers watching Hanna, saw the he was on his last breath. They rushed to call the priest of the village to come quickly to administer extreme unction to Hanna. Their Christian traditions are to have the priest anoint the forehead of the moribund. The priest uses consecrated oil and prays God to receive in peace the soul of the dying person. At first, I did not know that the villagers had sent for the priest. I was struggling hard to get Hanna out of the cardiac shock by stimulating his heart to beat again. I applied a vigorous cardiac massage to Hannas heart. My hands were transmitting hot energetic vibrations exciting his heart to beat again. Absorbed in what I was doing, the priest came from behind me. He asked me to stop my treatment to Hanna and leave him in peace. He wanted to do his job. His obsession was to bless Hanna before he expires. Just then, Hannas heart began suddenly to throb and his pulse came back. His face was beginning to get colour. It was no more palewhite. His limbs became warm. Hanna started to open his eyes, and his consciousness returned. I thought that he would soon realize what was going on around him. It was at this moment that the black priest came up behind me and tried to push me away in order to put the unction oil on my patients forehead. I was extremely afraid that when Hanna sees the black priest looming above him, the psychological impact of the priest on my patient at this extremely critical moment might have a severe psychological impact on him and will be a death sentence. The priest, backed by the villagers, was pressing me to leave the old man to go in peace to his Father in heaven. I looked at my patient who
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had started to open his eyes. The priest put his hand on the perfusion glucose bag to take it away. But I was determined to defend at any price the life of my old patient even against the whole conditioned mentality of the society and the black priest. I pushed the priest and he fell on the floor on his back. I shouted at him saying: Father now is my turn to save Hannas life. If you hear the bell toll, then come back and do your job. The people, angry and astonished at my violent reaction towards the priest, were about to attack me in order to defend the holiness of their priest, but when they saw that Hanna had regained consciousness, they stood in their tracks, stupefied. The crowd silently left the house and everyone went to his home. I was extremely exhausted after treating Hanna that whole day. I ordered an ambulance and took him to the hospital where he was before. In collaboration with my colleagues in the hospital, I was able to bring Hanna back to life. Hanna lived two years after my therapy. He became extremely fond of me. Always complaining of his health. He thought that I was the only person who could bring him happiness and prolong his life. Then one day, Hanna was again severely ill. The villagers called me to see him. I felt that his heart wanted peace. I asked the priest to come and take my place

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A slap can heal

I was at home. A car stopped quickly in front of the door. Two young men came out, calling: Doctor! Doctor! Come with us quickly, Kareemy the wife of Khalil is dying. Come to see her. I went quickly to see what was the matter with Kareemy. When I arrived at her house, a crowd of villagers had already gathered, having heard of a quarrel and came to see what was happening. Kareemy was in bed, groaning. I examined her and found that her blood pressure was extremely high. I observed that she was in great risk of getting a cerebralvascular accident (a brain hemorrhage). There was urgent need to drop her blood pressure. I gave her injections of hypotensive drugs and diuretics, but no results occurred. Her blood pressure remained the same. I administered to her larger doses of the drugs, but still her blood pressure did not drop. I looked at her face and at her body. She was spastic. It seemed to me that she had a nervous shock of fear and anxiety. I examined her more carefully to see what was the matter with her. While I was checking again the blood pressure, Khalil appeared from behind me like a ghost. His eyes were red with evil anger. He loomed as a hawk above Kareemy, his spouse. He shouted at her saying: Karee-emy, spoiled woman, Ill kill you! Ha, Ha! You left the cow to graze the potatoes! The whole crop of this year is gone. I came to kill you now While Khalil was threatening her, I noticed that her blood pressure went up, it became at that moment about 240mm Hg, her face on the right side became heavy and her tongue was tied and still he was threatening her. I was sure at that moment that the fear of Khalils cruelty will cause a stroke to Kareemy. I felt that I must quickly eliminate the stress of fear. Pharmaceutics having no effect, and Khalil, continuing to provoke his wifes blood pressure, irritated me. Suddenly the man, crazed with anger, was pushing me away to leave his wife to die. I had to do something to cast the evil away. Feeling compassion for my patient, I raised up my hand and slapped Khalil on the face with all my force. He fell down and I admonished him severely, saying: I will kill you if you threaten anymore your lovely wife. She is a great person. You must love her and adore her. All the people there laughed for what I did. Khalil, afraid of me, left the house.

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I returned to see how Kareemy was faring after I had driven away the negative stress caused by Khalils behavior. Her eyes opened wide, relaxed. Her respiration was not tied anymore, nor was her speech heavy. She started to smile. I measured her blood pressure, and found that it had dropped down to 190 and 160 mmHg, hence it was approximately normal. Kareemy became confident in herself and not tense anymore. She was healed of her fear. She came out of her bed feeling great relief. Now you are all right I said to her. Just take pills every day to avoid any rise in your blood pressure and do not let your cow graze the potatoes or the cabbages in your field! The crowd, assisting my healing medical circus, laughed. Kareemy thanked me for what I did to her. She felt confident in herself to overcome her fear of Khalil. At the end everybody became merry as I started to explain that the slap to Khalil was a kind of complementary therapy. Had I known from the beginning that a slap to the husband would cure his wife, I would have spared the use of pharmaceutical drugs.

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The donkey is a teacher (part 1)

Up on the mountains at an altitude of two thousand meters, near the Valley of Ghosts, an old woman lived in a cottage. She was called the magician woman. Many thought that she was a witch who puts a spell on the sky to make it rain. She could foretell the weather and say when there will be showers of rain and storms. In the mountainous region where she stayed, there was a queer natural weather phenomenon: it rains in the middle of summer at the valley of ghosts, whereas it never rains anywhere else. It is extremely unusual, and almost miraculous to have rain only in that region during the dry summer season. But the most unusual thing was how the old woman could predict the weather! Did she influence the weather and change its nature? Did she speak with God? Was she a clairvoyant? Sometimes, whereas meteorology indicated that it would not rain in the Valley of Ghosts, the old woman would predict that it would, and she was always right! Scientists wanted to study this phenomenon. They considered that their inaccurate calculation was due to the quick change in the atmospheric pressure during the cycle of the day. They wanted to go up in the mountains and spend there twenty-four hours to try a new approach. They thought that they might detect the sudden meteorological changes and explain that unique weather phenomenon. Taking with them their sophisticated equipment, they set up camp beside the old womans cottage. As they settled down and began their measurements, the old woman came to them and advised them not to sleep that night in their tents, but come instead and stay in her cottage. They asked her why, and she told them that there would be a gale with heavy rain that night and their life might be in danger. The scientists looked at the illiterate old woman and thought her crazy. They checked their barometers and repeated their calculations and looked at the sky. It was clear and cloudless. Then, they answered her: Do not worry about us maam! We will be all right. Our scientific instruments tell us that the weather will be wonderful and fantastic. You, yourself can sleep outside tonight, in the light of the moon and the stars, to escape the heat in your cottage. Listen to me carefully, I am warning you: a storm is coming tonight. Please come with me now and sleep at my home where you will

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be safe. Come, before I close the door and windows to protect myself from the wind. The scientists laughed at her. They thought that she was deranged. They spent that evening discussing their plan of action before they went to sleep in their tents. About two hours after midnight, a gale blew down from the mountain, and almost immediately turned into a terrible thunderstorm pouring heavy showers of rain. The storm tore down the tents, and the scientists remembered what the old woman had said. They rushed to her cottage door to save their lives. They knocked with their fists on the door, shouting: Please, open the door! Help us please, we are the scientists. The old lady, feeling pity towards them, opened the door for the scientist who had lost their arrogance, humiliated by their scientific rigidity. She welcomed them with natural and warm compassion; dried their wet clothes, and gave them something to eat and prepared for them places to sleep. She treated them according to their reality as poor human beings. At seven in the morning, the scientists woke up from sleep. The wind had calmed down and the sky was clear. The sun was bright. The Valley of Ghosts was shining with its wet greenery. The scientists sat at the table with the old woman for breakfast. When they finished eating, they started to ask the poor simple woman a host of questions in their skeptic and arid way: Dear lady, thank you for your help and for your hospitality. Would you tell us how you knew that there would be a storm last night? We will be grateful if you can reveal your secret to us. The old lady laughed and answered the venerable scientists: Do not worry, we will soon meet with my great teacher, my master in meteorology, and he will teach you his scientific theory. Tell us who is he? Where is he? We wish you to tell us yourself his theory, because we will understand it better! Consider how this information will serve science and benefit humanity. Do not be in such a hurry, my dear children. Finish your cup of tea and we will go out to meet the great master. When they finished, they all went out and she said to them: Wait here a moment. Then she entered the stable and came out with a donkey and, standing beside them, she took a deep breath and said: You look very tired. You didnt sleep a wink last night.
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The Scientists said impatiently: Do not worry about us we are in good shape. Please, hurry up to introduce us to your great teacher, we want him to collaborate with us. Please, we are scientists and we have no time to waste The woman stood with her donkey, the scientists grouped around them, and she said: When the weather is going to be stormy with heavy rain, this donkey feels the danger, and will refuse to remain outside. He brays continuously until I bring him to the stable. Yesterday, he shook his ears and tail to tell me that a strong storm is in the making. I listened and understood what he was telling me. I am not like you. You did not listen to me yesterday, because your scientific knowledge has made you unreceptive to nature. This donkey is my great teacher. He taught me about the weather. So, please ask the donkey your questions and not me! He will teach you his great theory of meteorology and perhaps many other things. Goodbye, Goodbye

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The donkey is my teacher (part2)

I was impressed by the story of the old woman and the donkey. Its message affected my spirit and became a part of my unconscious mind. One day I was asked to go to treat a patient let us call him Mr. X with chronic pain in his back. He was about fifty years old, and was ailing from his back for more than five years. He underwent treatments in different medical centers of the world. At the end, many different painkillers, anti-inflammatory drugs, physiotherapy sessions, acupuncture, physical therapy, spiritual healing, homeopathy, osteopathy and sympathy, all gave no results. The patient heard that I had succeeded to cure many difficult cases of back pain from his neighbor who was one of my patients with a similar medical case. Mr. X invited me to his home to examine him and see if I can cure his back. He said that I was his last resort. Mr. X was an open-minded person and trusted my work. He hoped I could cure his back. He encouraged me to try any new treatment on him that I might think would cure him. I tried again on Mr. X the latest pharmaceutical drugs, but to no avail. Still, Mr. X believed in me. He was a wonderful person. He gave me a big sum of money, saying: Take this and spend it on your research to find a cure for my back. I expect that you will soon come to me with good news. I will not show my back to anybody else. Mr. X was a real gentleman. He was generous, compassionate, cultured and a successful businessman. Business for him is a passion to create jobs for others and to support their creativity. His business with me was a stimulant to my search for new, complementary methods in medicine. I loved in Mr. X his humble and noble character, and resolved to do everything possible to invent a cure for his back. One day, as I was picking olives from the mountain grove fields, and filling them in two heavy bags, I laid the bags and tied them on the donkeys back to carry them home. On the uneven paths, the back of the donkey was stressed by the heavy weight. He fell down with the olive bags on top of him and could not rise any more. I unfastened the ropes and took down the bags of olives from over him and left him to relax freely for a while. When the donkey was freed from his load, he ran in the
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field and found a heap of soft and hot sand and lied on it. There, he stretched his body, bent his legs, and turned over several times, until his back became straight and its vertebral muscles became unspastic. The donkey then came up to a tree trunk and rubbed his back muscles on it. He then shook away the sand from his body and came up to me, rubbing himself against my hands. It was clear that he wanted me to massage his back and to take away the pain of lumbago. This inspired me with a new physical therapy. I did what the donkey wanted me to do. His back became all right, and it carried the olives home. At that moment, I felt that the donkey is indeed a great teacher, a medical teacher. I observed and learned all his self-kinetic-therapeutic manipulations and maneuvers. When the donkey rubbed its body against my hand, it taught me what physical therapy can do in order to relieve pain. This led me to invent a new technique to relieve pain by physical therapy. And I obtained good results. I was amazed that my donkey taught me a new physical therapy that heals, especially because its conception is the opposite of the orthodox theory of physiotherapy. I must admit that I learned a great deal of physical therapy practice from my donkey. It created for me a revolution in curing different muscular and skeletal disorders when traditional orthodox and complementary therapy was inefficient. My master the DONKEY inspired to me a new dimension in medicine. I was impatient to tell my new discovery to Mr. X and to try to heal his chronic back problem. I visited Mr. X and told him about my discovery. He became excited and wanted me to try it on his back. I applied the donkeys therapy on him and a miraculous result was obtained from the first session. His back became well. Mr. X looked at me with great appreciation and said: You are not only a skilful doctor but also a powerful spiritual healer. Your gift is rare and unique, it comes from God.

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My medical prayer
I started to look at medicine as a part of God. I saw in medicine wisdom, creativity and compassion. I could not perceive the human being only as an anatomic conception of a corpse, or as a biological machine. The patient is a unique individual, structured to become a part of the universe. His human interactions and spiritual dimensions are consequential in the process of healing from any illness. I wanted my medical work not to be only a pathological process, but also to have a human touch consisting in sharing intensively the suffering of others. I wanted my medical practice to follow lifes highest principles of morality. In the summer of 1987, I was called to visit a patient in his village in order to examine him and diagnose his illness. He was sixty years old and had lived many years in Argentina. Twenty years ago, he was cured of laryngeal cancer. Upon entering his house, my eye immediately fell upon him. I found that it was difficult for him to move from one place to another. To walk, he had to support himself by holding the wall, his left leg, stiff and always cold, was shorter than the other by ten centimeters and he could not move his toes. I observed the mans bizarre and chaotic walk. One day, I thought, he will be crippled completely. I was struck by the fact that, in spite of his condition, he was full of confidence and willing to challenge vigorously all the obstacles hindering his activities. His suffering started twenty-five years ago. He had visited many medical centers all over the world to no avail, and no one knew what was the matter with him. I pondered on his problem for a few minutes and realized that it was difficult for me to treat his case. I told the man that his case is a neuro-motor disease and that I cannot help him at all. I apologized for being unable to do anything in his case. Feeling that I was genuinely sorry in not being able to treat him, the man invited me to stay and to have a cup of coffee. I sat down on a chair, frustrated with my incapacity. Out of desperation, I made the following silent prayer to the Lord: Oh lord, You, who healed the sick, help me in this difficult situation. I, who left everything in life to follow in Your steps in healing the sick, am helpless if You do not direct me! Oh Lord, You who love me,

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I implore You to guide me in my medical practice. I seek neither money nor glory. I need Your mercy and Your help to heal the sick. Amen! Suddenly, two minutes after my silent prayer, the man said: Doctor, you did not examine me, you didnt even touch me. How could you judge my case, without a physical examination? Okay, I replied: You are right. I will examine you with more attention and will try physical therapy on the weak muscles. And then, I can judge. I went with the man to his room, where he undressed and lied down on the bed. I put my hand on the sacral region and pressed hard with my thumb. Immediately, the patient felt that something happened to him. He stood up from his bed in an explosion of joy. He looked at me, stupefied and thrilled, and cried: Doctor, look my heel now is touching the floor. I could not do that for the past twenty years. It is a miracle! My left leg is not short anymore. I felt wonderful. I realized that God is with me. Thank you my Lord! For twenty-five years a man solicited the worlds greatest medical centers to cure him, but they were unsuccessful. And You have seen fit to choose me to heal him. Thank you Lord! I went home with a feeling of great gratitude. I had found my way in life. On the way, I prayed in great humility to Jesus saying: Put Your hand with me in my medical practice. I will dedicate all my life to follow Your principles. I will carry the cross of my patients. I commit myself to healing the afflictions of others. I continued the treatment sessions on my patient until he was completely cured. His walking became normal. When my patient noticed that he was not limping anymore, he realized that he was healed. Yes, he was healed, but till now, I am desperate to know how, and what was the medical characteristic of his illness! I cured him, but I still dont know how! Since then, I set out to explore a heaven-sent world of medicine and to express my findings in the best modern scientific language.

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Love heals the paralytic

After my prayer Was heard by my LORD, And my patient Walked without a limp, I saw myself a Beloved child of the Universe. Drunk with beatitude, Intimate with the Divine. The healing Gift Came as a white dove From heaven, And settled gracefully In my heart, Washing my soul With the great bliss Of the holy river God then sent Me a girl Who could not walk. She suffered from polio Since early childhood. Her spinal cord, Anterior horn neurones, Were invaded by a miserable Coxsackievirus worth two pennies. The tiny biological aggressor Did his job and left behind His cruel traces: The semi-paralysed left leg Of my innocent sweetheart, Who can blame nobody Except her destiny.
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God inspired me, In a divine romantic dream, To meet the polio girl, To love her suffering, And give life To the dead cells. Compassion filled me, And my healing hands. My feelings were roused And I became A remedy for her. We met in October, The rainbows were kissing Each other in the valley, And the soft wind was flirting With the golden leaves of autumn. We met in healing sessions Of God-given intimacy. Love came from above With its divine sparks And touched the body Of my sweet darling, Channeled through My hands. My physical therapy Playfully became an art, Sculpturing life in Her atrophied muscles, That had been forgotten In the dull years. Medicine became more Than medicine: It became for me a song Of a creative science Played on the lyre Of healing angels.

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The fire in my heart Nourished the weak flesh. The thin bones grew up And the dead tissues Breathed again life. Love was free, Away from The worldly traps, And became Life in the flesh. My lady was cured, Polio has left her alone And a wide gate opened In the temple of Hippocrates.

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Healing tales
I was asked to go and treat a woman in Beirut, who suffered from a slipped disk (hernia of the vertebral disk). She had severe pain irradiating through her right leg. She could not walk, and was immobilized in bed. A surgical operation was advised in her case. Upon my examining her, I found that she had a severe painful spasm in the muscles of her back and that she could not lift her right leg. I pressed with my fingers on all the painful points of her muscles until I felt the tension released and the pressure on the nerve was gone. Then, I asked her to walk. But she replied: It is impossible, I cannot move my back nor my leg. But now, after this session, you can! Dont insist. I cannot Try, and show me that you cannot. The woman tried and she moved her right leg. The sciatica nerve was not trapped anymore. Walk, now! I ordered her. My leg is better, but walking for me is very difficult, she answered. You can! Try Okay, but please doctor help me rise up from bed. My dear, do not be afraid, have confidence in yourself and get up on your feet. I will give you a hand. The woman stood up and walked in the room. The neighbors came and watched her. They thought they were watching a miracle. Their eyes could not believe what was happening to the woman. The woman was cured from the first treatment but it took her time to believe it.

A poor peasant woman from Byblos heard my story of curing the slipped disc. Her name was Mariam. She was paralyzed in bed for six months with a severe discopathy. Physicians were helpless in her case. They asked me to go and see her.

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I examined Mariam and found that the muscles of her legs were weak and atrophied. The reflexes of her knees and heels were not in order. At first, I felt that I could not help her. But something pushed me not to abandon her. I massaged her muscles vigorously. She had a lot of pain during the treatment. After several sessions of my physical therapy no improvement occurred. I felt that my treatment was a failure. Being extremely committed to help Mariam, I tried again with all my heart without charging her any money. At last, I realized that there was nothing more that I could do to Mariam, and decided to abandon further sessions. Two days after reaching this decision, I visited Mariam to tell her regretfully that I was unable to cure her. I knocked on her door and to my astonishment, it was Mariam who opened the door. I looked at her stupefied. By what miracle was she now able to walk? I sat down in the sitting room watching Mariam, unable to believe that she was completely cured. I became extremely curious to find out how that happened! Mariam sat on the sofa opposite me, her face shining with joy. I asked her how she became absolutely well, since I saw her the last time. She at first was very hesitant to tell me her story, because the majority of medical doctors do not believe that faith can heal the patient. At last, Mariam noticed that I am an open-minded physician, and that I would not be shocked by her secret. Crying with tears of joy, she said: Since the last night you left me, I prayed to saint Charbel to help you in order to heal me. Then, I went to sleep. During the night I felt that somebody is waking me up saying: Mariam, Mariam, do not be afraid, I am Saint CHARBEL. Wake up and go and tell your family that you are cured. I woke up and found that I could rise from bed. I walked in the room, shouting with bliss. I knelt down and kissed the floor. Then my husband and three children, awakened by my shouts, rushed to me, overwhelmed with GODS mercy.

A woman from Byblos heard that I cured Mariam. Her daughter Mary was suffering from severe pain in the back and in the legs. She was unable to walk. I was called to see Mary.
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From my first examination, I observed that Marys case was an extremely difficult one. But after twenty minutes of listening to her, I felt the energy of confidence gaining me. Suddenly, an inspiration of hope dawned on me, and I began to believe that the healing process can work on Mary. A strange inspiration guided me to put my hands on her back and manipulate her muscles. I noticed that my hands were moving spontaneously and correctly to the painful points. Something was guiding my hands. What can it be? Maybe an inspiration, or my self-confidence? Anyhow, I felt an extraordinary healing energy was flowing unconsciously from my mind. How could that happen, and why here, in Marys house? I looked around to see if there was anything unusual in the room, and to discover from where such tremendous healing energy came to me. I observed that Marys mother was sitting very still on a chair, with a look of astonishment and reverence on her face! It may be that out of her piety she thought that I am an extraterrestrial saint or a healer sent by God. I wanted to ask her why was there such benevolence in her face. I smiled respectfully and said: Madam, do not worry about your daughter, she will be all right. Lifting her hands towards the sky, she answered: I am not worried about my daughter. I know that she will be cured. I know Your face told me. Tears came down from her eyes and she crossed herself. My dear lady, your daughter Mary will walk now, and in two weeks she will be back to her normal state. I told her. I know, there is no need to tell me God has sent you to my daughter. If you are so sure that your daughter will be all right, why, may I ask, are you looking at me with such deeply pious eyes? At first, the woman was loath to answer my question, preferring to keep the secret to herself but when she noticed that I am a devout person, she changed her mind and said: Dear Doctor, I will tell you later, after you finish the treatment of my daughter. I realized that it was useless, at that time, to insist on Marys mother to tell me the secret that was behind her pious look. I thought that she might have had a mystic revelation, which she wanted to keep to herself. One afternoon, ten days later, I visited Mary. She was absolutely cured. On that morning she had walked miles in the mountain to pay a
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votive visit to the monastery of Saint Z. Now, Mary was fine and felt no pain anywhere in her body. Marys mother invited me for a cup of coffee. I accepted, feeling that she was going to open her heart to me and I would know why she was looking at me with such devout eyes. And she did: The night before you came here to see my daughter, I prayed before I went to sleep to Saint Z to help my daughter and to heal her. In my sleep, I dreamt that I was walking down an ancient road passing through a grove of huge olive trees, when I met with my brother who is a general practitioner. He asked why I looked lonely and sad? I replied that my daughter has pain in her legs and back and is unable to walk. He shook his head and did not answer. As I was talking with my brother, a strange person appeared from behind me and said: Take this remedy for your daughter. I looked at him and asked what is he giving me. He stretched out his arms with his hands clasped together as in prayer, then opened them up and gave me something like pills. I thought that he was giving me the healing of the Holy Spirit. The next morning when my son woke up, he told me that he had heard about you as a good doctor who might be able to help his sister Mary. We promptly agreed to consult you. As you entered the door of our house, I was astonished to find in you the same man I saw in my dream giving me with his hands the remedy of the Holy Spirit for my daughter! What an extraordinary revelation you had! Thank God and thank you! Your story humbles meWhy didnt you tell me your story at our first meeting? It might have given me more faith to help Mary. I was afraid to tell you the truth, fearing that my story would irritate you and deter you from treating my daughter. Most doctors are arrogant atheists and refuse to believe that healing can be done by Saints. They are, perhaps, afraid of their competition.

My patients stories spread from village to village and from city to city. Everyone had his own explanation of the healing phenomena. Some were extremely skeptic and some firm believers. But the majority were pragmatic and observed that I was practicing medicine in a skilful, original and creative way, based on purely scientific principles. Hundreds

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of people asking to know more about my practice, received this answer from me: I am practicing Thomass medicine, that is: put your finger and touch the truth instead of bombarding me with skeptic questions. I had to face the peoples subjective projections to my medical work, and to relieve the anxiety in the minds of many who heard negative fables on my medical practice, propagated by rumors or false new-age books that they read. I never argued with anybody, for I had no time to explain medicine to the mediocre or show the light to the blind. If somebody asks me of what the sugar of healing is made, instead of telling him useless theories to feed his skepticism and his mental masturbation, I give him with compassion a little healing sugar. He will taste it and will silently understand. That is if he knows how to taste the healing! Many people tasted the quick healing results of my medical work and became infatuated and addicted to me. They were emotionally affected by the impact of the healing. They became my followers or disciples, and some pretended that they were still sick in order to see me frequently. Their spirit of need, which they call love, was really emotional greed. I tried hard to awaken my patients to their reality and to take their own healing responsibility. I encouraged them to leave me in peace and to heal themselves by themselves. My medical work prompted them to find their cure from within and not from without. But it was difficult to change the human mind that can easily believe many wild things and accept many stupidities. The mind could easily fall in a trap, for there is a psychological necessity for every human being to be conditioned by something.

One day I went to visit a young lady friend in a town east of Beirut. Just as I entered her house, she said: You come in the nick of time, I have spent these last ten days searching for you. You appear suddenly and then you disappear without leaving an address. I need your help! Come with me to see our sister Rachel. She is in great pain. I went with my friend and arrived at the poor house in a mountain village where Rachel and her parents lived. There was a crowd

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of peasants and shepherds. Rachels mother was extremely surprised to see me in her house. She sighed and cried in tears saying: Prophet Elias has sent you to see my daughter Rachel who is in great pain from a severe cervical disc. We were waiting for your visit these past ten days. Her right hand is already paralyzed. The doctors said that there was nothing they could do to recuperate her hand. But had you come earlier and treated my daughter then you would have saved her hand. (She wept and I wept with her). Go in and see Rachel. She is in bed. I cannot come with you and see my daughter in such pain. I entered Rachels room. She was in bed praying the Saint with closed eyes to guide me to her bedside, disappointed that I had not come to help her. She had sent after me in all the places where I might be found, but to no avail. Suddenly in the middle of her prayer and in severe pain, she opened her eyes and saw me standing by her bed. At first, she thought she was dreaming. But when I touched her body, she realized that her prayer was answered. Her heart jumped and she cried, with tears running down her cheeks: Saint Elias! Saint Elias has sent you to heal me I hugged her with compassion. And then touched the sources of pain in her neck, shoulders, hand and fingers. She started to feel a relief. Her median nerve returned back to its vitality, the pressure on it from the nucleus of the cervical disc C4-C5-C6 was relieved. Her paralyzed hand began to move. She could now raise her right hand above her head. I felt that the power of the Saint who raised the dead was helping me. Rachel, rise from your bed and walk. Rachel, a miracle has happened to you! I told her. She moved her shoulders and her hand. All her pain had disappeared. She walked about in the room. In the corner, there was a jar full of water weighing about twenty kilos. Wanting to impress upon her that she was cured, I asked her to lift the jar with the hand that was paralytic before my treatment. Rachel, you are now completely well. A miracle has happened to you. Come and lift this heavy jar with your hand. It is not paralyzed anymore! Rachel came with me to the corner of the room. She held the jar with her right hand and lifted it to the level of her chest. Then, she put it down and dropped to her knees, screaming with joy. Her mother, the neighbors and villagers present in the house rushed to see what was happening. When they saw the miracle, they froze with amazement and looked at me piously.
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Rachel believed that her curing was miraculous. She put on her clothes and ran to visit St. Elias to fulfil her vow. At the end, and after all my hard work, nobody paid me for my treatment. Nobody even thanked me for my trouble. They considered it was not me who healed Rachel. Instead of paying me my fees for my strenuous services, they paid the church of St. Elias. Never mind, for I was fully rewarded to feel that the Prophet Elias was with me.

A parish priest vehemently criticized my medical work. He considered me some sort of medical heretic. I did not blame him because he listened to people of mediocre understanding. He was not aware of my scientific values. Eventually, he began to suffer from migraines, partial deafness, weakness in sight, a cervical pain, numbness and soreness in the limbs. His physicians described his health problem as a complicated case. They prescribed for him a surgical operation for a cervical slip disc. They frightened him by saying that he must quickly accept to do the operation otherwise he will end paralyzed on a wheel chair. The priest became hopeless and skeptical of the proficiency of the doctors. He knelt before the altar of his church and prayed to his intercessor, St. H., to cure him. (Saint H was a monk from the last century who lived in the wilderness on the other side of the village.) While he was praying the saint, he had a vision to resort to me to cure his medical disorders. He telephoned my clinic and obtained from my secretary an urgent appointment. I had to treat a priest who did not believe in my work. I was glad to welcome the priest in my clinic. I asked him if he had done blood tests, radiography and magnetic resonance image scanner. He replied: I did not bring any medical reports with me because you will know what to do by a God-sent inspiration. I got angry at the priest and said: Give me your clinical tests, or leave me in peace and go to your God to cure you. The priest looked at me and said:
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Doctor dont be rude with me, for it is your neighbor St. H. that sent me to you. Father, please, leave the saints in peace. Do not tempt them. And do not abuse of them as most people do. Their place is in your heart, keep them there. I do not want the saints to interfere with my work. Father, do not encourage me to be a conceited heretic. Listen to the scientific reality of my compassionate medicine that serves humanity. Give me your M.R.I scanner, please, and leave your esoteric mysticism and emotional defense mechanism aside. Doctor, please understand me, I do not have with me any medical reports. Please examine me first and prescribe what medical clinical tests you need me to do and I will do whatever you ask. The priest replied with a spirit of trust and obedience. I examined my patient the priest and diagnosed that his problem was muscular spasm and fatigue, and realized that his case needed a session of my physical therapy. The priest was cured of the muscular tension that was pressing on the cervical vertebras and trapping the nerves of his head and neck. I cured the priest, but convinced him at the same time that he is his own healer.

A Druze Sheikh came to my clinic to treat his back. (Druzism is

the esoteric religion of a section of the Lebanese population. They believe in meditation, sufi wisdom and incarnation). He was scared, at first from my

unorthodox method of treatment. He thought it is spiritual healing, a kind of hypnosis or meditation. He told me that he did not need a psychic or transcendental medicine. It can effect him negatively and put him in conflict with God. I explained to him, that my treatment was based on my mastering the medical sciences. And also, that my healing abilities come from my strength to love my patient in a selfless and unconditioned way. The Sheikh felt a big relief to deal with me as a physician of high integrity. His trust cured him.

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A woman from Tyre had her son Mohammed paralyzed in bed due to L4-L5 vertebrae compression of the spinal cord. His case was difficult for the orthodox medicine to solve. She was told by neurosurgeons that a surgical operation had a 10% chance of success. She slept one night extremely frustrated for not knowing how to help her son. In a dream, Lady Zaynab appeared to her and told her: Wake up, your son Mohammed will be cured. She woke up hearing a voice saying, Allah akbar, Allah akbar. In the morning a neighbor came and told her to bring her son to me because I am the only doctor who could help him. I examined Mohammed and immediately realized that I must try to relieve the pressure on the spinal cord. His mother, chattering all the time, told me that God, upon the intercession of Lady Zaynab has sent her to me, and that Lady Zaynab will cure her son. Her story irritated me, for I detested any religious fanatic interpretations of my work. Oh my God, I thought, human subjectivity and egoism are manipulating too many saints in this world with a disastrous result and a handicap against our objective scientific procedure! Then, turning to her, I said sharply: If Lady Zaynab will cure your son, then why did you bring him here? Leave him home and call upon her to heal him. The woman had no intention to irritate me, on the contrary, she thought that I would be pleased by her story. She could not guess that I have become vulnerable to hearing personal religious stories. She meekly apologized for disturbing me by talking too much. After a moment of silence, she explained her chatter by telling me the following story about Imam Ali Bin Abi Talib: Once Imam Ali saw a woman whose camel was suffering from scabies. He asked the woman: Woman, how do you treat the camel? She answered: I treat him with prayers. Imam Ali replied: If you add to your prayers an application of tar, then God will listen more attentively to you and will heal your camel more surely! I listened to the woman and was fascinated by her wisdom. I said: I am glad to be the tar. And by the way, Mohammeds back will be cured, because he is a good man.

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A priest, head of the St. Elias church in East Beirut, came to my clinic. I had succeeded in saving him from a surgical operation consisting of the implant of a pacemaker. The priest, a very kind person, spent most of his time helping the poor, especially the old among them. I liked his work and, wanting to support him, I proposed to offer a day free charge to care for the sick and give them the benefit from my medical skill. The priest gladly accepted and called the people to meet on Sunday in the big hall of the church, which was the only place available for me to practice my work. I went in the morning, as agreed, to meet the people in the church of St. Elias. As I entered the reception hall, I found that there was a large crowd already waiting for me. When I saw that they were so numerous, I thought trying group therapy upon them. I suggested starting on easy cases that could benefit quickly and feel better within a few minutes of my physical therapy. I therefore chose the patients who had nervous, muscular and skeletal problems, eye and ear trouble, and group-treated them. After a few minutes of treatment, I examined each patient to see if there was any improvement. Among these was a woman who could not walk out of stiffness in the ligaments and tendons of her knees. After five minutes, when I rendered mobile and relaxed the soft tissues of her knees with my hands, she became perfectly well and danced merrily in the hall of St. Elias church. She thought that the saint had poured the Holy Spirit through my hands to heal her knees. All those who saw the woman dancing believed that St. Elias is doing miracles through me in his church. They did not realize that my medical work was totally independent of their belief. All my interest was to help the poor and heal the sick according to the medical principles to which I am committed. Then a Muslim Sheikh who could hardly walk because of a stroke, came up to me. He was coming all the way from his village close to the Israeli border. He knelt before me and kissed my hand, then he showed me that he carries pictures of Christian saints. He was asking me to intervene with St. Elias to heal him! I applied my medical skill and

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compassion and in about ten minutes he was able to walk better. Also a blind person saw, and a deaf girl heard. While, I was busy treating the poor people, a television team, hearing what was going on in the hall of St. Elias church, came and filmed the scene and interviewed the patients who were healed. That same evening, they projected their film on the screens. As usual their commentary spoke of an eccentric magician, of unusual psychical therapy and strange clairvoyants, thereby completely muddling the truth. On the third day after the medical session in the church hall, a group of physicians in the disciplinary Beirut Medical Council invited me, as a registered member, to meet them regarding what I did in the St. Elias church. They claimed that what I did in the church was against the principles of medicine and the rules of our Council. I proved that my group therapy was not for propaganda or any material advantages, and that my intention was to help the poor patients by means of scientific methods that produced good therapeutic resultsThe president of the council interviewed me saying: How did you approach your patients in this meeting? I examined them by touching the painful areas as you do with your patients in order to decide if their problem needs physical therapy, drugs or something else. I know that, since a colleague was watching you. You were laying your hands on the patient for a few minutes. But what is amazing is the fact that the patients were cured without any apparent medical treatment. How did that happen? How was the patient cured? Dear colleague, if the patient getting well in a few minutes is fantastic, I must accept this reality without going into the philosophy of the cure, because sometimes we know very little of how life works. Then, what do the patients say when they are cured? They say that Saint Elias healed them and I am happy for them, without trying to understand how they got well. If you need to know more, send a committee of researchers. You are a physician and yet you believe in Saints? I do not believe in saints, as much as I believe in what is good and can heal my patients. Whom then should we blame for your unorthodox practice in the church? If you must blame someone, blame St. Elias, not me, because I never charged any money for my work and all the credit went to St. Elias. Indeed, you may say that I am as frustrated by St. Elias as you are.
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This confrontation with my colleagues ended with an understanding of my work and a harmonic and good collaboration. Our medical establishment has room for different approaches in order to fulfil the needs and expectations of the community.

* * * * *
Patients, Dont be afraid Of saints or gods, Because you created them. Do not come close To the ghosts of miracles, For they may blind you, And you will not see Your truth. Instead of that And of anything else, Ask your Guides To help you. Love your neighbor as yourself In order to heal yourself Of stress.

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The woman who challenged death

One day, as I was walking in Beirut from my clinic to my home, I stopped beside the gate of a factory. I was watching, how badly the whole area was affected by the war. Suddenly, I heard a moan coming from the small guardhouse. I realized that somebody must be in pain. I simply cannot remain indifferent to the pain of others. I went in and saw the janitor lying on the floor. He could not move. His back was in pain. I came up to him and immediately realized that I was before a case of lumbago, and that my skilful hands could cure him. I looked at the poor man, who was unable to move, and said: I am doctor R. I can relieve your pain, and in half an hour you will be able to walk as before. The doorkeeper was desperate for help. He told me that the wife of the owner of the factory, lady A., was gone to bring an ambulance to take him to a hospital. But I insisted to do, in the meantime, a quick massage of the painful areas in his back that would relieve the pain until the lady returns. He accepted. I relaxed the muscles of the doorkeepers back with my hand. After a few minutes he felt better. He started to move without pain. Soon, he was able to stand up and walk normally. His lumbago was gone. He bent down and kissed the floor. Then the lady stepped in. She was astonished to see the man so quickly healed. It seemed to her that a miracle had happened. She could not believe that the doorkeeper is able to walk. The lady became curious to know more about my work. I invited her to my clinic, which was nearby to discuss my medical practice. Lady A. was a remarkably skilful physiotherapist, of Danish origin. Her husband was a rich and cultured Lebanese personality. Dedicating her life to help the poor, especially the handicapped, she supported many charitable organizations bringing them humanitarian aid from many European countries. She was extremely interested in my work to help people in need of my skills. Lady A. listened with passion and enthusiasm to my medical stories. She felt that there was a healing World working behind my medical thinking and practice. She liked my simplicity, noticing that I am

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not pretentious about my work and do not discuss it. Furthermore, I consider it a natural result of orthodox medical practice and scientific explorations I explained to her, that I am only the scientific witness of the medical work that cures the patient. The natural healing order and process never need philosophical or religious arguments. We are not clever enough to discover the decisions and procedures of how life works! Lady A. wanted to help with my work by making it known in the cultural circles. She invited me to her home and presented me to distinguished members of the Lebanese society. She also wanted to share with me the cross of the patients. We went together to visit a widow, Mrs. M, to treat her paralyzed left hand and arm. We entered the home of Mrs. M. and were brought to the salon. On the wall there were photographs of Mrs. M.s husband, a well-known brigadier general of the Lebanese army who was assassinated in his home by unknown terrorists. Mrs. M. came and sat in the armchair beside me. She showed me her paralyzed right hand and told me her story: Last year, at 2 oclock after midnight, as my husband and I were sleeping, terrorists invaded our bedroom and fired upon us a barrage of bullets from machineguns equipped with silencers and ran away. My husband was immediately killed. I was severely wounded by thirty-three bullets in my body. One of our neighbors feeling that something had happened to us, rushed in and found us bathing in a pool of blood. I had already lost consciousness. He called quickly an ambulance to take us to the hospitals emergency block. The nurses there examined us and found that we had no arterial pulse and could not detect any heart-beats. They thought that both of us were dead. They put us in the refrigerator until the next day to bury us in an official national funeral ceremony. In the morning, someone came to take our corpses and put them in coffins. He put my husbands body in a coffin, but when he held me to do the same, he felt a tiny arterial pulse in my body. He immediately called the resident doctor to examine me. He found that there was still life in me. They took me to the intensive care ward and sent my husband to the grave. I underwent twenty-five surgical operations, twenty bullets were extracted from my body and a few could not be removed. I am still alive, but my left hand is paralyzed. I asked her: Can you describe the traumatic lesions that caused your hand to be in this state?
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She replied: The brachial nervous plexus was burnt by gun fire. The median nerve was completely dissected by a bullet. Pieces of bones from my phalanxes were shattered, etc. The neurosurgeon envisaged a nerve transplant in order to restore motion to my hand. The lady was a wise, shrewd and pious woman. She seemed to me like a hero who conquered death. The cruelty of her experience revolted her to the point of having no fear in challenging any difficulty. I realized that her strong personality would be extremely positive to my treatment. I started upon her a series of physical-re-educationalrecuperation-healing-energetic sessions and whatever other physical therapy I thought necessary to her hand. I was surprised after ten minutes of my treatment to see her paralyzed fingers starting to move. It was like a miracle for muscles to regain their movements when their nerve was damaged or dissected. The medical report taken at the time of the accident showed that her median nerve was completely damaged, but when it was stimulated by the energy of my hands it came back to life. There is a great deal of scientific research I need to do regarding the unconscious healing abilities in both the patient and the physician and how such a miraculous work could be expressed in a rational, scientific language. There is a world of human potential in medicine that needs to be explored and exploited in the therapy of curing certain medical disorders which have no healing solution by traditional orthodox approaches. The paralyzed hand of lady M. was cured. I asked her to go to her neurosurgeon and show him her hand. After examining her, he could not explain in medical terms what had happened to it. She said that her neurosurgeon was happy to see that her hand had returned back to normal, exclaiming that she is a woman of mysterious events. When she returned, she told me what the specialist had told her. She looked at me and said: You performed on me a miracle. I laughed at the word miracle. When we see things happen quickly in our own interest and in ways opposite to our line of thinking, we say that a miracle has happened. But when we get used to the unusual happenings, and look at them objectively, our excitement vanishes and we stop to find them so miraculous anymore. Happenings that do not fall in the narrow frame of our traditional thinking are not necessarily miracles or magic An open scientific mind could find the rational model for anything if his interests are vertical.
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Page 95

A letter from Rumania

While in Lebanon, I never stopped remembering my interesting student and poet life in Rumania. I could not turn myself away from the Rumanian culture in which I published books and written manuscripts of poetry. In my difficult situations in Lebanon I always remembered the words of my Rumanian friends who taught me to look to the highest human values. For five years, contact with my Rumanian friends was broken due to the extremely difficult situations in both Lebanon and Rumania. In 1988, I was living in East Beirut. My clinic was about half a kilometer from my home. Violence was terrorizing every home and street. It seemed that Beirut still had not suffered enough from the war. One day, a friend of mine, who was the Ambassador of Lebanon in Rumania, visited me. He was a wonderful person who respected my medical revolutionary principles and my cultural compassionate thinking. Before he was appointed to Bucharest, he enjoyed hearing about me and listening to my poems. His visit was a complete surprise to me, since I had not heard from him for the past two years. I read on his face that he was bringing me good news. He congratulated me for my titanic cultural activity in Rumania, and gave me a letter, saying: This is for you, it is a letter from President Nicolae Ceausescu. I opened the letter and found that it contained an autographed photograph of the Rumanian President, and a letter from the Rumanian Foreign Office expressing Ceausescus thanks for my Rumanian books of poetry and congratulated me as a talented poet and skilful physician I was extremely grateful to my friend the Ambassador for his kind visit and asked him how he got this letter which was to me such a big surprise? He said: When I was appointed Ambassador to Rumania. I broached, during my accreditation visit to the Rumanian president Ceaucescu, the relations of friendship and collaboration between Lebanon and Rumania. One of the main subjects I spoke about was culture. In this domain, your poetic and literary activity in Rumania, was the best evidence of the cultural interchange between our two countries. The Rumanian President was happy to receive from me your two published books of poetry in his
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language. I dedicated the books to him, and he asked me to give you this letter of appreciation. I was glad with the warmth of my friend, the Ambassador, more than anything else. His friendship and good will were much more important to me than Ceaucescu and his letter. I looked at my friend with renewed consideration and said: Had this letter come from you, it would have more value in my eyes than its coming from Ceaucescu. I realize fully that your diplomatic skill has lifted our country to the forefront and has earned me this letter of consideration and esteem

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Back to Rumania
One spring morning of 1989, I woke up on the sound of heavy intense shelling all over Beirut. Most of the people had fled the capital, others lived that year most of the time in damp and dark shelters. Our life was extremely insecure, being threatened from all sides. I realized that a bomb or even a tiny shrapnel can kill me. Showers of rockets were falling on Beirut wantonly devastating buildings and killing people. It was impossible in this situation to administer to my patients. Most of the hospitals were closed or bombed. A few underground hospitals had remained open to receive the wounded. Notwithstanding the danger and the adverse circumstances, I tried to help my patients as much as I could. My friend, the Lebanese Ambassador to Bucharest, wanting to rescue me from the danger of Beiruts random bombing, invited me to stay with him in Rumania till the crazy shelling would stop. Having no other alternative at that time, I accepted his invitation. One summer day of 1989, I arrived at the Autopen airport of Bucharest via Damascus. After five years, I was back in the country that inspired my beautiful verses and taught me medicine. The police, who once rescued me and my friend Vasi from dying of cold in the streets of Bucharest was now rescuing me from death by bombs in the streets of Beirut The Ambassadors car met me at the airport. On the way, I passed through the places where I lived such romantic and frustrating experiences. At the gate of the embassy, there were many policemen in their uniform. A few steps away, two elegantly dressed persons stood watching me. It was clear that they were security secret police. The face of one of them was familiar to me for its coldness and cruelty. Six years ago, he caused me great grief when he, and another policeman, stopped me and my girlfriend Rodica as we were strolling in the streets to check our identity papers. They took Rodica, the philologist girl with whom I was in love, away in a police car claiming that she was a prostitute and a betrayer of her country by having relations with a foreigner. As I tried to intervene, he threatened me rudely. In the police car, he asked Rodica to choose between having sex with him or go to the prison for prostitutes. My innocent sweet Rodica chose the prison to remain pure and honest.
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Nevertheless, the security police officer and two other officers, who were backed by Ceaucescus regime, raped her. I wanted to marry her and to heal her heart from the trauma caused by those Communist animals, but she disappeared and I never saw her again. Later I heard that she committed suicide or was killed in a mysterious way. I entered the Lebanese Embassy. My friend the Ambassador warmly welcomed me. His extraordinary generosity was indescribable. I found that he had for me more respect and attachment than ever. The Ambassador, with a calm, humble and compassionate smile, asked me what was my first impression of Rumania after an absence of five years? Frustrated, I answered my friend: It is worse, much worse! The Ambassador, who did not expect from me such a stern reply, asked: Why worse? All the grief from my past dark days in Bucharest swelled up in my heart, and I could not speak. But my friend repeated the question: Why worse? I told him the story of the security man I met outside guarding his embassy and how revolted I was that a sex maniac was now the chief of security guard for the Diplomatic Corps. The negative elements in Rumania seemed to me in power and will devastate the country Did Ceaucescu know that? The Ambassador calmed me down and said: Do not worry! Forget the past, you were before a student here, but now you are a guest of considerable prestige at the embassy. You will now be greatly respected in Rumania.

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My resurrection
I started to ask about my former friends with whom I had no communication for the past five years. I visited the Palace of the Union of Writers and was shocked to hear that many of my friends who were good artists and writers had died in a mysterious way as a result of too much misery. I entered the restaurant of the Union of Writers, where I used to meet different people of art and culture over a cup of wine. The atmosphere was lunatic and smelled of tobacco and alcohol. Most of the writers became sick with alcoholic psychosis, or died of loneliness with liver cirrhosis. Dreadful stories were whispered in my ear. I was looking for a table to sit down and have my dinner, when somebody from the corner of the restaurant cried: Oh my God I dont believe it. I looked up and saw my old friend Ioan, rushing towards me, astounded with joy. He addressed me saying: Are you a ghost or real? He hugged me with tears pouring down his face, saying: Is it true? Are you Rashed, are you still alive? Ioan, my dear friend, I said, I am extremely happy to meet you again. How are you faring? Yes, I am still alive and I stand in front of you in flesh! I am in my best form, and came back to Rumania just to see you How did you return to life after having been killed in the war? asked Ioan. As I heard Ioans words, I felt pity towards him and thought that he had gone crazy. Ioan, I was not killed in the war, but spent all the past years in Lebanon, practicing medicine Ioan calmed down and told me the story: After you were forced to leave our country, we wanted your poetic spirit to survive and remain with us. Many of our friends who are writers and journalists wanted to publish poems from the manuscripts you had left with me. I was asked to give them some poems. Then we suddenly received the bad news from our official sources that you were working in Lebanon as an army doctor and were killed in battle. The rumors of your death spread throughout the country. A local newspaper even wrote an article about this tragedy.

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Many of your friends in Rumania felt great sorrow for you. I did many meetings with your friends to remember you. We poured wine from our glasses on the ground and asked forgiveness for your soul Many writers like M., our poet of international fame, wanted to do a eulogy on your behalf, but at the end, he was advised not to do that until the whole details about your death will be available. And now you came back to life to tell us how you died in the war. I was amused with the rumors of my enigmatic death that conditioned the mind of many of my Rumanian friends. It was extremely difficult to many Rumanians to believe that I am still alive. My meetings with my friends were extremely funny: it was like a joke done by destiny. The propagandists of that time who are in the shadow of the communist regime were inventing rumors to frustrate their people. Rumania in the summer of 1989 was prey to enormous frustrations. I could not share with my Rumanian friends their pain anymore. I had suffered with them enormously in the past. My abandoned manuscripts of poems are still crying with them in the dark corners of their unfair world. I thought of Ioans story and how a lie can brainwash so many people. The message in the story of my death in the war is a spiritual reality. Yes, I feel that I died with every person who was violently killed in my country. Yes, the tragedy of Lebanon is living in me and killing me every day. I carry the pain and grief of my motherland. I need to heal it. I will turn such pain to a light of love that can heal every heart. I will dedicate myself more and more to heal the suffering of humanity, because I am the physician, the son of the pain of my country.

Healing diplomats

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One day I was in the diplomatic club. Most of the diplomats go there to eat in the restaurant, enjoy swimming, walking, playing tennis etc. I was sitting by the swimming pool enjoying the sunlight and the cold water. Suddenly a young beautiful girl sat beside me on the bank. She was very attractive. I liked her golden hair. Her sweet blue eyes watched me with innocent, calm, warm and romantic looks. My eccentric presence and the enigmatic impression I left upon her attracted her. She wanted at the same time to talk to me and not to, to come near and to go away from me. She rose up from beside me on the bank and went and sat on the opposite side of the swimming pool. Something was going on with the girl. I watched how her lightly tanned body shone in the swimming suit under the September sun. All her charming movements took me away from myself. Suddenly, I noticed that something was wrong with her right hand and leg. She was trying to hide the weakness in her leg and the deficit in moving her fingers and palm. She did not want any defect in her gorgeous body to be noticed. I was curious to know what was her problem. It seemed to me that she had a head injury caused by the compression of the forceps during her delivery at birth which resulted in a neuro-motor deficit of the right side limbs. A special affection moved me towards the girl. My heart whispered to me: She is lovely, you can help her. Go and touch such beauty with your healing hands. The girl with the golden hair felt that I wanted to talk to her, she smiled to my looks that were raining on her and tickling her smooth body. She came with romantic confidence to me, and said: You are looking at me with a free heart. This means we know each other quiet well. Sorry, it was natural for me to watch you, because you are an attractive girl. You attracted me as a physician to heal your hand and your leg by touching you. I spoke with all my spontaneity to the sweet young lady. The girl was unprepared to hear such a direct compassionate language. She did not want me to see her physical defect. She replied: No thank you, I do not want any physician. I was born like that and I feel very good with myself. I felt the need to be impudent. My compassion towards the girl was innocent and arose from the deep voice of my conscience. She stood still thinking for a while and said:

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Now I do not want you to treat my hand. There is no treatment for paralysis when the central nervous system cells are damaged and especially in my case with which I was born. I do not want to discuss this subject. I feel you are a good and handsome person, I want to talk to you as a human being. I am Tania, Ambassador Xs daughter. I am Dr. R., a guest at the Lebanese Embassy. Tania and I discussed different romantic and social subjects at the swimming pool. Then, when I felt there was a beginning of intimacy between us, I asked her if I can hold her hand saying: Tania, you have lovely hands, can I stroke your hand and fingers? Smiling with shyness, she came closer to me, saying: Of course, do what you like, I am in your hands, You never need to ask me such a thing because you know that I like you! She said that with all her innocence and nice character. Her brother and his Italian friend came back from their walk and when they saw me a stranger talking with Tania in such a language, they interfered to see what was going on! I started to do a healing massage to Tanias semi-paralyzed hand. After a few minutes, the fingers of her right hand started to move for the first time in her life. I looked at her saying: I love you Tania, I have earned from you a kiss, now that your fingers are moving! Tania looked at me, then at her hand. Her brother with the Italian friend noticed what had happened and they said with great excitement: Tania! Tania, look, your fingers are moving! Tania, cried with joy saying: Oh my God! My fingers are moving. It is unbelievable! It is a miracle! Many diplomats, who were there, came up to see what was going on. An Italian businessman, guest at the Italian embassy saw how I cured Tanias hand. Excited with such spontaneous and immediate healing results, he asked me if I could help his Ambassador who suffers from a cervical spondiliosis that was rebel to any treatment. I answered that I was ready to go with him if so requested by the Ambassador. That same evening, I visited the Ambassador of Italy. I treated his neck and after a few sessions he was cured and my story spread from one embassy to the other. I treated many diplomats in more than ten embassies with a great measure of success. I became, within a month, quite famous in diplomatic circles.

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One of the diplomats who supported me in my medical career of healing was the wife of the British Ambassador. She was one of the most interesting ladies I ever met. I had heard that her compassion to help others was extraordinary. One day I was invited to see her in the residence of the embassy. I was extremely glad to meet her. She was a tall and elegant lady in her fifties. She asked me to lay my hands on her neck. I asked her, what was the diagnosis to her problem. She did not reply to my medical questions, saying that she just wanted me to lay my hands on her neck for a few minutes. I put my hands on her neck. She felt a warm touch and a soft vibration passing through her body and with amazement she looked at me and said: Do you know Dr. Daoud that you are a great healer! I am not a healer, but only a medical doctor who heals by using medical skills and techniques. I answered, for I am not interested to know what my work is. I was only interested to help Mrs. V. Mrs. V. after the session thanked me for she felt her eyes were getting better. She looked at me with reverence and said: Beware, you are a channel of healing. You have a divine gift. I replied Mrs. V. concerning my medical work, saying: I hear the word healer from you for the first time. I do not accept my medical work to be called by this word. I do not need anybody to say to me bravo: you are special; you have a gift; you channel energy; you are unique; you are a God-given-genius etc. I believe that here is a physician who works hard to give; who carries the pain or the cross of his patients till he becomes exhausted and helpless. God the Merciful helps the poor physician when he sees him humiliated by carrying the heavy burden of the sufferings of others. He helps the situation by giving the pious physician a gift to relieve himself and the patient from carrying the pain alone. God is the Healer. He supports the humanitarian message of the medical doctor who is very humble, compassionate and selfless. I am the son of the pain of a suffering motherland. I dedicate my life to serve others. I am a servant with special abilities to absorb the frustrations of people. I am a witness to the truth of life in the work of healing. I studied medicine to have the physicians status for cleaning the miseries from the soul of others and purifying their hearts with acts of charity.

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An attempt on Ceaucescus life

It was in the autumn of 1989 and I was still in Bucharest, waiting for the shelling of Beirut to stop in order to be able to return home and reopen my clinic. East Europe was at that time in the midst of a crucial change. The Rumanians were looking with envy at their neighboring countries that had toppled their communist regimes and were hoping for democracy in their own. In mid November a Communist Party congress was held in view of the re-election of Ceaucescu as Head of State. Most of the Ambassadors were invited to the Congress, but they declined to attend because they felt that the regime of Ceausescu was on the verge of collapsing. Many were building dreams on the fall of Communism in Rumania. In mid December a demonstration of protest against the regime was started in the city of Timishoara, near the Yugoslavian border. Ceaucescu at that time was visiting Iran. The protesters calling upon the dictator to resign were brutally massacred and the revolution was suppressed. There was a general consensus in the diplomatic circles that the spirit of revolution against the communist regime would extend to Bucharest and a plot was hatched to finish with Ceaucescu. Ceaucescu came back from Iran. He was preparing a speech to the Rumanian people regarding the recent events. A group of Ambassadors were discussing the projected meeting of Ceaucescu with the people. A Western diplomat said: I am afraid that the audience, massed to listen to Ceaucescu and support him would be manipulated during the meeting and turn against him and then the army will betray the Rumanian dictator and overthrow him. On the morning of December 21, 1989, I left the Autopen airport on my way to Damascus. On the check points, the passengers were called quickly to the plane without checking the baggage. While I was on the way to the plane the airport was closed behind me.

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Back to my country
I arrived at the Damascus airport on a sunny day and rented a taxi to Beirut. The taxi crossed the Anti-Lebanon mountains overlooking the Beqaa valley. Its green fields, spotted with red and yellow looked like a carpet stretched in silence for the gods of the temple of Baalbeck. We crossed the Beqaa valley and climbed the Lebanon mountains covered with snow. Their white peaks reflected the sunlight in silvery rays down towards Beirut as if to calm down the storm of the war. On the way, the driver turned the radio on the news, and I heard: While the Rumanian president Ceaucescu was delivering his speech to the Rumanian people, the large audience, supported by the army, occupied the presidential palace and overthrew him. The Rumanian Dictator fled in his helicopter to an unknown destination A civil war started in the streets of Bucharest between the security forces that were loyal to Ceaucescu and their opponents, the Rumanian Front of Salvation. Oh my God! I have just escaped from awful violence! I thought. I felt very sad for the blood being shed behind me in Bucharest, and anxious for the welfare of the friends I left behind. The taxi descending the mountain dropped me in Beirut on Thursday evening. Beirut was trembling under the explosions of shells and bombs. Oh my God! I left behind a civil war in Rumania, only to return to the tragedy in my country where so many foreigners were wantonly shedding the innocent blood of my people. I arrived safely to my home in East Beirut. A period of temporary cease-fire was reached at the end of 1989. I reopened my clinic that was not far from my flat. In the meantime, I heard the news of the execution of Ceaucescu and that Rumania was now a democratic country.

Healing in middle of the fighting

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Early in the morning, a volcanic and crazy battle exploded in East Beirut. The line of fire was between my house and the clinic. One group was shooting from beside my house towards my clinic and other group was shooting back from my clinic towards my house. They were using tanks, cannons and heavy machineguns. A bomb entered my house while I was sleeping. The kitchen exploded and everything was turned upside down. My bed turned over me and saved me from shrapnel. My clinic also was on fire. The whole building was on fire. I lost everything at once. Fourteen bombs and rockets had fallen on my apartment building. I ran into the street in my pajamas, along with many others. We hid in an underground shelter for ten days without food while the battle continued to rage outside. A storm of shooting, killing and devastation was moving from street to street. We were about a hundred persons in the shelter, all trapped by the cruelty of the war which could bury us alive any moment. In such terror, I had to live with others, to sleep with rats on the cold, moist ground, and to prepare myself to die any moment. From time to time, due to the strong vibrations of the explosions, the walls of the shelter shook as in an earthquake. Then our breathing would stop and cold sweat would cover our bodies. In our throats there was the smell of gunpowder and of charred bodies coming from under the ruins. The underground dark hall looked to us like a vault. We spent most of the time in the shelter groping about in the darkness wondering if we were still alive. Cries of fear, anxiety and grief were coming from every corner. I looked at myself: how the misery of war was ruining me. I had lost everything, my clinic and my home. I still had only the breath of life. In that atmosphere of war full of stress, every one was facing death in his own way. There was panic in the shelter. Our will for survival was threatened Many, under such great stress felt a lot of pain, migraines; some were even paralyzed; others were wounded in various parts of their bodies by small fragments of glass. They came to me saying: Doctor, doctor, please help me. But how could I help them? The hospital was in ruins and the pharmacy burnt down. Nevertheless, I said to myself: Well, I believe in doing good to people by giving them a human touch. I didnt want to lose my compassion. In such tragic moments, I am not a doctor anymore but a human being dedicated to lighten the burden of others. In all this hell of war and human misery I, at least, must remain a tiny remedy for the heart, and a torch in the darkness. Instead of surrendering to the fire of war, I will offer myself to the fire of God and
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burn to alleviate the pain of others. I turned my mind to ease the pain of others and give them comfort. I gave the warmth of my heart to all those who were suffering and suffered with them. Suddenly, I felt a healing light of hope and energy flowing in me. My hands and my person channeled it to succor the poor to overcome the misery of the war. Facing death with others taught me how to share the deep frustrations of the individual. A healing power, like an earthquake of love came to my heart in the shelter. I had lost everything but I will not lose my compassion as well. I would not allow the fear of stupid death caused by bullets or shrapnel crush me. There were scores of civilians and innocent people like me who fall victims to the bestiality of blind projectiles. A strong fire coming from the great heroic ancestral spirit of my country filled me and dissipated my fears. I left the shelter and set out to help my patients in Beirut. Showers of bombs were falling all around me. Snipers shot at me in order to stop me from going to my wounded patients. But at the end, a great voice was telling me: Now is the time to surrender to Love and to risk your life to heal others.

I faced death in the shelters and on the battlefields. My heart lived the death of many. My flat was ruined and I had no place to sleep. My clinic was burnt, and I had nowhere to practice medicine. My country was in great grief, the savage hands coming from the desert turned Beirut into a city of death. I lost everything that represented the kingdom of my selfishness. I lost everything but still had Gods mercy. I never lost compassion in my heart and it became a sword for cutting the poisonous tails of darkness and blazing the fire of love to open every door. I was invited to enter every home, heal, eat and sleep. In every heart, there was a place for me. I was a free person, free from the chains of all worldly possessions.

A Concept of Revolution
It was impossible for me to stay any longer in Lebanon. The war determined me to return to Rumania to study and do additional research on my work In September 1990, I returned to Bucharest, where things
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had changed after the collapse of communism. People became very busy seeking to earn quick money. They had no time for culture anymore. Many writer friends of mine became members of parliament and heads of political parties or ministers. They became very busy in politics and had no time to discuss poetry and philosophy with me as they did before. Rumania was passing through the critical period of learning democracy. Freedom is very good if it is based on human creativity and spirituality and not on the manipulative games of financial systems. The capitalistic democratic systems made many creative free thinkers lose their great human values because, as usual, a free thinker never knows how to sell himself, and his spirituality is not a marketable commodity. I met one day my old friend the mystic philosopher Petru Tsutsa. I wanted to help him with my medical skills. He was at the last year of his life. I asked the old Tsutsa his opinion concerning the Revolution in Bucharest that brought the democracy to Rumania, he replied: The Revolution in Bucharest is not a revolution, even the French Revolution was not a revolution; the only revolution that happened in history was the Revolution started by JESUS CHRIST.

Looking for a medical Revolution

I walked in the streets of Bucharest near the presidential palace. I watched the damage in a central building resulting from three days of civil war. I felt that the world is not as real as it looks. I continued to walk in the direction of the university. The students were on strike. They were playing with the policemen to make a show of democracy. I crossed the street in the other direction. Suddenly, I saw the face of a man in his fifties that seemed familiar to me. As I came closer, I remembered that, ten years
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ago, he was my professor at the school of medicine at Cluj-Napoca. He was one of those who looked for compassion and warmth in the world of medical science. Standing against the domination of anatomic and physiologic thinking in medicine, he was the one who admired my revolution consisting in introducing a poetic phase to medicine. My Professor was extremely happy to hear how I fared after graduation. I related to him all my past experiences, and my firm conviction that medicine must be seen within an expansive scientific vision if it is to be effective in healing the patient My Professor enjoyed my medical experiences and appreciated my generosity in raising the morale of my patients so much that he said excitedly: Love is the only healing and communication system in the world. My professor encouraged me to continue in my original philosophy and practice of medicine. Since my medical thesis, which was in a sense my book of poetic genetics, he expected from me outstanding exploits. My professor and I, talked and walked for hours in the streets of Bucharest. Tired, we stopped for a little while and sat on a bench in a corner of a small park. Then, my professor said: Do you remember your friend and colleague Petru. Yes, I said, we were good friends. The last time we met was at the graduating ceremony. We always had the same vision towards the medicine of the future, that it should be based on the maxim: Physicians, the fruits of your healing will tell you who you are. Dear professor what happened to Petru, where is he, what he is doing now? Dr. Petru is living in his village, where he works in a dispensary. But he is also a farmer, tilling the land and tending to his cows, sheep and pigs. He studied three years of acupuncture and homeopathy after graduating in medicine. He discovered by what physiological system a needle can work and how pharmaceutics can be used with homeopathic results. He obtained fantastic curing results. You must meet Petru, and share your different medical experiences and knowledge. Where can I find Petru? I asked. Go tomorrow morning to his village. You know how to take the train to his village! You will find him at home. Then return to tell me about your meeting. I love to hear good news from my students, of their medical successes in the service of the great principles of humanity.

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The next day it was in mid April , I went by train to visit Petru. Looking out the window I enjoyed the panorama of the mountains whose silence and mystery soothed me. The train passed through a medieval city famous for its black church and its castle of witches. A few hours later, I arrived at Petrus village. I left the railway station and walked to the village asking about Petru. On the road, I passed between humble cottages that awoke the peasant spirit in me. Oxen were plowing the fields, swallows were fluttering over the hills, and villagers were cutting grass to feed the pigs. The people I met on the road were naive, simple, poor and generous. They were keen to help me as a foreigner coming to their village for the first time, and pointed out to me the way to Dr. Petrus home. I walked up the hill and finally arrived to a house surrounded by a wooden fence. Its roof was covered with tin. I stepped in the courtyard and met a man in his sixties, wearing wooden shoes and a peasants dress. I asked him about Dr. Petru, saying that I am his colleague from Lebanon. He welcomed me with great generosity and enthusiasm and took me to a garden behind the house. Petru was there, feeding the pigs. When he saw me, Petru could not believe his eyes. We never saw each other since 1983. Instinctively, he felt that my visit will be a landmark in our lives, and would be good for the future of humanity. My dear colleague and friend Petru and I sat together on the grass in the garden reminiscing our student days in Cluj. He recited one of my sonnets as we walked around the house to see his pigs, chicken and sheep. Then we went to the garden where he cultivated garlic, onion, cabbages, tomatoes etc. Petru explained to me how his land nourishes him with pure energy to heal others. He said: The land is compassionate and generous, it feeds me with unconditional abundance and without hypocrisy. It teaches me how to give. Petru feels that he will lose the confidence he needs to heal his patients if he abandons his land. He thinks that if he does not take care of his fruit trees, he will not be able to take care of his patients. Petru felt deeply in touch with his land. He was like an old tree deep-rooted in the fields of his village. In the old spirit of his land, he found faith and became like a fruit tree in the fields of medicine. After meeting Petrus family, we went together to his clinic in the village dispensary. On the way we met many people. They stopped us to discuss their medical problems. A man left the oxen and the plow in the field and showed Petru his neck. There was a tumor behind his ear. It was
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a lymphoma. Petru asked the man to stand still. Then, taking a bundle of needles from his pocket and a small bag of paper, he inserted the needles in and beside the tumor and poured in the mans mouth granules of homeopathic remedies, and stuck certain very small metallic pyramids on his skin. After five minutes, considering that he had finished the treatment, he told the man to fast and to meditate. Then we continued walking in the village. On the road, I asked Petru if he is sure to help his cancer patient by his unorthodox way of treatment. Petru replied: Why not? Then I asked: What principle lies behind your work on cancer patients? Petru replied: I seek to free my patient from perverse energies that cause disharmony and obstructions in the body. I believe that you can help a cancer patient with your methods and techniques only if the patient is ready for his self-healing and his consciousness is channeled in the right homeostatic direction. I doubt if other physicians applying standard methods to their patients would obtain the same healing results! What about the faith in the patient and how it can play a role? What about your compassion, spirituality and healing gift behind the techniques that you apply? There are many spiritual matters that condition the relationship between you and the patient that play a big role in the process of healing There is also the interference of the conscious and the unconscious in the process of healing. We must also take into consideration the uniqueness and originality of the patients individuality. Petru was not really interested with arguments. His only concern was whether a certain medical method or technique or approach gives curing results or not. Everything else has no importance to him. He looked at me and said: As a physician, you need first to help the patient, and then you can adapt the theory which can be accepted by the human mind Petru did not usually like to speak about his healing results, because his medical work was extremely personal. He liked practicing medicine in silence or in an atmosphere of prayer. He therefore changed the subject, and started talking about the land and about his life as a farmer. We walked together in the spring atmosphere of his lovely village. He described the beautiful places around his village, caves, springs and lakes. He wanted me to visit with him the beautiful nature that inspires him with its spiritual beauty. After a walk of about two hours, Petru invited me to his dispensary. In his clinic, Petru listened to my stories. I told him about my medical activities in the past six years, that is, since we
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lost touch with each other. But he was more interested with the poet in me. He always liked me as a poet. My poems were a romantic human touch and a mystic inspiration to him. I told my friend that I had become a silent swan in the icy lake of this world, because people became deaf to poetic words that heal the soul. We must heal their sickness first by speaking to them in the language of their pain and thenand then Petru was interested to see how I work on patients. He called some of his patients and asked me to treat their difficult medical cases. I was glad to be watched by my colleague, and wanted to listen to his comments on my original healing procedure. He observed me attentively while treating his patients. He described my approach, saying, that at the moment I met the patient, a white light twinkled in my eyes and brightened my face, a naive excitement of joy and enthusiasm burst spontaneously in me and prompted me to put my hands on the sufferer. Suddenly, through me, the channel of healing was opened, my face became calm and happy in a dance of light. An atmosphere of peace in the room settled down, and an unusual inspiration proceeded with its healing work. During the three days I spent with Petru, he made me visit different places in the mountains near his village. He took me to springs of volcanic and mineral water rich with a variety of minerals, ranging from bicarbonate to sulfur. He was extremely interested with the therapeutic effect of different kinds of water, each having a different electrical charge When I returned to Bucharest, Petru accompanied me. He wanted to introduce me to many distinguished persons with whom I could collaborate for the good of medicine. In Bucharest, Petru introduced me to a scientist called Dumitru, who was a Reiki therapist, an electronic engineer, a mathematician and an eminent technological researcher in the field of energy and a biophysicist. And also to Aurel, a university professor who was a great mystic and a researcher in the culture of Civilizations and a philosopher. A meeting was organized between Petru, Dumitru, Aurel and myself. Petru spoke about my medical healing work and asked what could be the theory of healing? Dumitru tried to explain his quantum mechanical theory about healing and consciousness and a new biophysical model of the universal life energy. Dumitru was proving the concept of our universal homeostasis as a balance of energy between the individual and the Universe. He maintained that in everything there is an order of particles of matter and of antimatter and a flow of energy, hence, the
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technique of healing consists in keeping these orders in harmony. Love is a healing energy we receive from the Universe. We always need to know how to channel love. Dumitru was explaining these concepts with a diagram. Aurel listened to Dumitru and replied: You are speaking as if the universe is a machine. In your model machine, everything is nice, harmonic and in physical order. Even love for you is like an electrical energy, its wires are channels of healing in us. On these models and principles, your diagram shows that we function and exist as a mechanical system I would like to ask you whether, on your diagram love has a place, if so, then the Holy Ghost must also have a place. Show me on your diagram the Holy Ghost and the Healing Entropy. The Holy Spirit is love in a flux of cosmic energy for establishing harmony. I showed that in my diagram. I am, however, describing the quantum mechanics of healing and not its religion, answered Dumitru. Dont be foolish. God is not senile to be considered energy. His spirit cannot be described by diagrams or manipulated by us or abused and exploited by our selfish and vain thinking, said Aurel. Dumitru reached an impasse because he did not have access to the diagram by which the Creator created us. Dumitrus diagram could be valid only for our modern machines and not for human beings. I started to ask many questions concerning my healing work. The only person who was ready to go with me towards the unknown was Aurel. With him I had several successive meetings searching for the truth. I asked Aurel: When I lay my hands on a patient, press and manipulate painful points, can it be that an energy flows from me to the patient and restore his balance, bringing him a feeling of well being? Aurel answered: Your work cannot be explained in such a simple materialistic way. Healing is an inspirational or spiritual matter. Here we can speak about the uncreated energy that cannot be defined by quantum mechanical theories. It comes from life, to nourish life, and for life. The gift of healing is given to us by an enlightenment process. I asked: From where does this gift come? He answered: It comes from the healers interior moral code and from love fed by his suffering. Then I asked: For what purpose was the healing gift given to me?

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Aurel said: Healing is to serve the purpose of life. Life is more important than healing. If you cure the disease of the patient and he remains unhappy, you would have achieved nothing. The purpose of healing is to make the individual aware of his eternal life, to bring to him a good relationship with the Creator and to restore his universal homeostasis. The main disease of a human being is the obstruction between his created and uncreated energy, or between his human individuality and his lack of individuality, or in the communication between him and God. We get healed when we attain harmony with the Creative Universe. I asked: Can what you are saying be described as a holistic medicine? Aurel answered: The holistic concept has no verticality. A human being cannot be defined in terms of physical, emotional, mental and spiritual terms. The physician could not heal the patient if he masters all the knowledge and techniques of treatments and is not humble, compassionate and selfless. Plato spoke about the one GOD and of human existence more than Christ did but he could not heal anybody, whereas Christ was the greatest Healer because he was humble, while Plato was arrogant. A healer must carry the cross of his patients by opening his heart to receive their pain instead of arguing about suffering on the holistic ladder. Our schools must train the physician to be, before all else, a compassionate servant of the life of others, rather than a wise diagnostician and an artist with eclectic therapeutic skills. I had many meetings with Aurel, for I had so many medical questions to ask him concerning the mystery of life in our medical practice. At the end Aurel became fed up with my obsessive questions. One day, while I was walking with him and Petru in the streets of Bucharest, he looked at both of us and said: Your medical practice is disgusting if it is based only on treating the body. Medicine must concern the highest human values. The medical approach to the suffering of others must aim at awakening them to the meaning behind their pain and to open their conscience to the truth of our existence. Medicine must heal the systems if it is to help the human being. It must serve the spirit in us, not only the flesh. Medicine must be in cooperation with the spiritual values of the community and the nation if it is to heal the human being and the society. Aurel looked at us and asked us to walk with him in the park. We were extremely tired of such provocative discussions. In the park, we enjoyed meditating on the beauty of the trees and the flowers in the
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gardens. The lake was mirroring the large trees on its calm water. The twitter of birds calmed our agitated thoughts. We were dreaming how to change the world for the better. We were enthusiastic young men obsessed with righteousness. We strongly believed that we could heal the Worlds corruption. Suddenly Aurel became aware of himself and said: We are talking too much. Thinking that we could do many things for the salvation of humanity, we are using only idealistic thoughts, putting them in sophisticated terms, and this has made us arrogant. We must, first of all, observe our stupidity and change ourselves before we can change the world. I was irritated with so much knowledge bombarding my mind. I looked at my friends and said: I am tired of our discussion which is bound to end without a conclusion and in nothingness. The best thing for us to do now is to be silent, for then we may be able listen to the voice of the Universe and observe a Sign that would reveal to us the way. Let us go home, for I have an appointment with my girlfriend. As we walked back home, we passed in a quiet street by an old church, and started to ask ourselves: What should be our message in life? Do we need insight to know what is going on within us? Suddenly, we saw an unusual nun coming towards us, walking with silent steps and vibrating with the shadows of the dusk. We stood still in our tracks wondering who she might be. She came to us and said: I know what you are seeking, take this! She gave us two small pieces of paper, and disappeared in a second before our eyes without moving from her place! Oh my God, it seemed as if we had witnessed a miracle! We looked at the papers and found that phrases from the New Testament were written on them, the first phrase was: Go and heal the sick. and the last: SILENCE. I went home feeling that I am in a materialistic universe composed of particles of Nothingness. My thoughts became weird and my confused mind was saying: You can juggle as much as you like with words about healing and medicine; You can invent and play with different esoteric concepts; You can express a rational reason built on fancy; You can make fantasy and false theories from reality; You can mystify anything and do fables for gossiping;

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A medical illusion or a scientific delirium can be the result of all your work; And at the end you get muddled with too much academic concepts, And find that your thoughts cannot catch the wind in a net, And you will attain the theory of nothing. And that reality on microscopic slides can be only a virtual reality. Do not blame the beliefs that come from the heart. Life sometimes is built on the absurd. Many things trap us and cannot be trapped by logic and reason. Often a scientific formula ends in stupidity, And a whole generation would pay the price. Do we see the gaps in our minds? Our mind is not only files of mechanical, pragmatic thinking, it is also an informational world written with the language of universal love. We must not limit ourselves to intellectual business and dry our hearts from the compassionate human spirit. Do we have subjectivity in observing things? Are we aware of reality, that is built only on human values? Can our intellect perceive or see the unseen? Has our feeling a physical existence? Is our consciousness a physical matter, and if so, in what frame can we define our dimensions. I ask: If the flower is beautiful, why is it. I need to know what beauty means in laboratory tests; what is the gene or particles that condition a flowers beauty and what is the molecular weight of the molecule called beauty? And when I fail to reach an answer, I blame God for not creating the flower just as I want it and on the model I designed in my mind. If the healing work is beautiful, then hurry up before the imperialists questions can block the channel of healing. Let many be healed with the natural power of beauty instead of waste time in questioning.

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Going to England
In Bucharest most of my time was spent visiting my friends the British Ambassador and his wife. They were fascinated with my medical work. They even considered me a special physician with extraordinary and rare healing abilities. I rejected the idea of being considered a healer. I wanted to find the country and the society that could understand my healing work in scientific terms. My aim is to make my medical discoveries known to the whole world so that every human being might benefit from it. I needed to present my unusual medical practice with its case studies, and the new therapeutic techniques and approaches which I had discovered in Rumania and Lebanon. I knew that I could express my healing work or my skills in curing diseases in the most accepted orthodox scientific medical language, and that I could teach my work to other physicians. I wanted to found a new medical school that can solve many of humanitys severe health problems. I therefore asked the British Ambassador and his wife to help me to go to England and build good relations with the British medical society, because I felt that in the United Kingdom I might find understanding and support to my medical revolution so urgently needed by humanity. I explained my aim to the British Ambassador and my need to go to his country. He answered me: Well, you will not find what you are seeking, but at any rate, I will bring you an invitation from a holistic center near London, where you can expose your theory and after that we will have to wait and see what comes out of it. In October 1991, I visited England for the first time. I stayed in Farnham with a friend of the Ambassador whose name was Peter. He was a clergyman with a good cultural background. He and his wife Joan prayed for an hour every evening for the healing of many patients. Their prayers had sometimes fantastic healing results. I joined them for a week in their prayer healing sessions. Peter, an extraordinarily compassionate and generous man, noticed in me a powerful healing gift and so was interested to support my dedication to help humanity. I stayed in Peters house for a week. His house was built in the seventeenth century. His garden was extremely beautiful. The calm atmosphere of the English countryside cooled my nerves after the severe life of anxiety caused by the war in Lebanon. Peter invited me to church. He introduced me to his parishioners, pronouncing my name in his homily and called upon them to pray for peace in Lebanon.
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He also introduced me to many people and was glad to help me by presenting me patients. He believed that a message of healing was coming through me to England from the original Christian roots. He believed that his Christian faith is substantiated by my medical work. He wanted me to heal his parishioners, believing that my medical work could increase their faith. Started by Peter, the news of a Lebanese doctor who is a great healer, spread from village to village and, within a week, reached London. One day, while I was visiting a holistic dispensary, a car stopped at the entrance and a woman descended and asked about an osteopath. Believing that I was the person she was looking for, she invited me to go with her to treat Lady Bernadette who could not move from bed. The lady was suffering from a severe lumbago and the slip of a lumbar vertebral disc. I applied on her my special techniques of physical therapy and after ten minutes of treatment, I asked her to rise and walk. She walked absolutely normally. Lady Bernadette was amazed with the results of my natural medical skill that seemed to her quite miraculous. I looked at her and said: Lady Bernadette, I need your help. I came to this country to present the medical process I invented to cure many diseases to which traditional medicine has no remedy. I want to present my work in this country and teach my skills to as many physicians and therapists as possible. There are many people here suffering from the same ailment you suffered and need my technique to get well. Many people in this country consider me a spiritual healer. But I insist that I am neither a New Age guru nor a special emissary sent by God to guide western people who have lost faith. I am only a physician dedicated to save the life of others. I am an orthodox scientist, a physician proficient in western medicine who lost everything in the war in Lebanon but won instead the gift to love my patients I am tired of hoarding my skills, and would like to reveal my technique to as many of the young generation as possible and return back to live a simple life in my Lebanese village. Lady Bernadette, a remarkable woman with strong humanitarian passions, had powerful connections in the main medical institutes and the London centers of complimentary medicine. She was able to obtain for me invitations to visit these places. I left by train the beautiful Surrey countryside and went to London searching for a place in this world where the doors would be opened for the coming light.

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I was introduced to a holistic church center, in which there were three clinics. The first was for the allopathic general practitioner where the patient is treated for physical disorders, the second for the psychotherapist where the patient is treated for emotional and mental disorders and the third for the healer or the place where the patient is treated on a spiritual level In this way, the poor patient was divided among them. A patient friend of mine who had cancer visited the center. The general practitioner first treated him on the physical level with no result. Then the psychotherapist applied upon him his psychological illusions believing that he was treating him on the mental and emotional level, and when he had enough of the poor patient, he surrendered him to the healer who treated him on the spiritual level in order to help him to die. My friend died after this holistic cocktail of treatment. I asked to meet the physicians in the holistic center and to share with them my medical experiences but they declined, saying they had no free time to meet me, probably thinking that they had nothing to discuss with me. The secretary of the holistic center sent me instead to visit a nearby complementary clinic. I went there and met the woman who was running the clinic. She was a tough and charming businesswoman, very excited to meet me. I asked her if I could meet the physicians in her clinic. She said that there was no medical practitioners collaborating with her. In her clinic only New Age therapists practiced. The lady, who was nice and kind, felt that I was frustrated not to be able to express my thoughts to medical open-minded specialists. She calmed me by showing me the treatment rooms in her center. A room was full of colored crystals for shamans, other rooms for astrological, past life and psychic readings, still others for hypnotherapy, reflexology, aromotherapy, astrology and cosmetics. The first floor was a market for selling psychic New Age books, healing perfumes or water, special colored crystal stones and nutritional products. The lady was sweet with me. She and a team of her beautiful secretaries welcomed me and showed me what they did to attract many candid patients to come to them. They had many naive cancer patients who would pay anything to get better. They did not care at the end if they take money from the sufferers without providing them with any help I left the clinic searching for other places where I could share the pain of others by sacrificing myself. My expectation in coming to Great Britain was to find support for my medical revolution so urgently needed by humanity. Believing that England, always the world leader in
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medicine, is the place where most scientific revolutions were started, I came here to present my medical discoveries to physicians and university medical scientists. I was even willing to sustain the terrible English climate provided I could continue my struggle for tending to helpless patients and inaugurating a new approach to medicine. But I was, instead, sent to the wrong places where non-professionals pretend they can supplant physicians and that their work is an alternative to orthodox medicine. Many of them took advantage of the weakness and vulnerability of helpless patients and dominated and conditioned them emotionally, thereby building an unfair business without any medical credibility. But then I have no right to judge or condemn anyone because we sometimes need even charlatans, and in due course, we may be able to turn the fraudulent into virtuous. Who knows? And sometimes the truth, with time may prove to be a lie. Anyway, I learned to deal with the situation with a message of unconditioned love and wisdom. It was difficult for me, as a human being who knows the limits of his ignorance, to judge others. In London I at first lived the frustrated life of a person looking for an ideal. My frustrations always reminded me of Charles Dickens novels. One day I took a cab taxi to go to a place in Chelsea, but asked the driver to drop me in Hyde Park near the Serpentine lake because I didnt have enough money to pay for the whole trip. As the driver turned towards me to receive my money, he winced and cried from pain. He was stiff with lumbago. I could not see a person in pain and remain indifferent. With his lumbago, the driver would not be able to drive his car any more. I could cure him in five minutes by applying traction with my hands to the muscles of his back. I implored him to let me help him. He was suspicious at first, but I was able to convince him that I could heal him. I asked him to come down from the taxi and to hold his hands around a tree trunk in order to allow me to manipulate the muscles of his back. The driver obeyed, and in about three minutes I was able to stretch the contracted muscles in his back and he was cured. He thought that I had performed a miracle. Amazing! Amazing! What did you do to me! You touched me and I was cured. Never in my life have I seen something like that. Such spontaneous healing was done only by Jesus Christ! The driver said. I never do miracles, I answered. I am only a skilful physician.

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The driver examined his back, for he could not believe that all the pain had disappeared. He looked at me with admiration and asked: Where are you from? I am from Lebanon. Have you heard of Lebanon? Extraordinary! Oh yes, Lebanon is a Holy Land, in which Christ did many of his miracles and healed many patients like the Cananite woman from Tyre. Oh my God! I read in one of our astrology magazines that this year Christ will come to England from Lebanon to heal our British Island from the negativity of the past and will cure people on the roads. Extraordinary! You are Him! I am not Jesus. I am only an ambitious physician, a human being who is struggling hard to help sufferers because I am one of them, said I. The driver of the cab couldnt look at me as a simple person. He wanted to build me into a Guru. Emotionally missing his reality, he liked to live in a world of fancy. He became a fanatic believer in his own religious delirium, which he projected upon me. That day, the taxi driver refused to leave me. He took me to all the places I wanted to go in London free of charge. He believed that he had Jesus Christ in his cab, and from time to time he touched my clothes to take from me a healing energy. At last, he said: Christ healed the possessed and cast the demons. I would like you to come with me to my home to bless it and cast an evil spirit from my wife, because she is haunted by a ghost. I listened to the naive and superstitious driver who deserves pity. I felt that he really needed help. He was a nice Englishman lost in a world of illusions. Besides, he was extremely generous to me. I felt that I should go with him to his home and help his wife, who may be suffering from a depression causing her to believe that sees ghosts. After a long day, I went with the taxi driver to his home. He lived in a ground flat in north London. As we entered his house, we found his wife, an attractive young blond, lying on a sofa. Her eyes were full of charm. Her husband introduced me to her saying: This man is Jesus Christ. God sent him from Lebanon to London. He did a miracle on me. He cured my back just by touching me. I realized that he is the Next Coming. I brought him with me, to bless the house, to drive the ghost away and to heal you. Come and kneel in front of him to free you from the ghost who is sucking your energy. The woman laughed and did a sign with her hand and asked me to sit beside her on the sofa and tell her who I am.
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I am a physician from Lebanon. I cured the back of your husband in Hyde Park. I treated him with my special skill in physical therapy. He thought that I am Jesus Christ and I am unable to change his mind. He was extremely grateful to what I did for him, and invited me to come with him to visit you. You are a physician and not Christ? Yes indeed! Then, I can tell you the truth while my husband is taking a bath. Look doctor in my eyes! Do you see ghosts? Your eyes are charming. They would drive ghosts away. Then listen to me carefully. My husband works all day and in the evening, after his work, instead of coming home, he goes to the pub and spends his money drinking. Every day at mid-night, he returns home drunk, with no energy left in him to care for me as a woman. Because he abandoned me, I invited one evening my lover to hug me and relax my frustrated heart. When my lover was with me in bed, my drunken husband returned. My lover, upon hearing his steps, ran out quickly from the back door. His shadow, cast on the floor by the moonlight was seen by my husbands drunken eyes. I pretended that I was asleep. My husband woke me up shouting: Sara! Sara! Wake up, there was a ghost in your bed, you are haunted by a ghost. Ever since, my husband tells his friends that a ghost visits his wife and sleeps with her. Go back to my husband and treat him as a doctor and help him to see his reality. Tell my husband to be with me in the evenings to protect his wife from ghosts. I laughed at the painful and funny story. The woman looked at me and said: Before you go, give me your address and phone number, when I will see a ghost, I will call you to come and heal me. Are you ready to such an adventure? Yes indeed, I am!

Meetings with physicians and therapists

It was difficult for me to introduce my new medical approach in England. The academic mentality was rigid, conservative and imperialistic. Yet England, throughout history, was the world leader in scientific revolutions. I did not feel frustrated from the establishments who could not understand my message of compassion for the general
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good of humanity. Nobody in the world could stop me from helping patients who were not supported. The medical systems must accept new methods in medicine that have produced good results on incurable patients. If not, medicine will stop progressing and our medical systems, by not accepting the new scientific discoveries, like my own, will loose their credibility. Worse still, they will deprive patients from a possible cure and from satisfying their needs. This mentality will finally lead to the collapse of our valuable orthodox medical establishments. I put all my effort for the salvation of the medicine I studied in school because I feel responsible to it, and have developed and enriched it with new discoveries and new methods of treatment more appropriate than pharmaceutical drugs and surgical operations. As a physician I must be a creative, pragmatic person regarding variant methods which end in healing the patient. I have enriched medicine with the spirit of compassion and attention to human happiness. For me there are no various schools of medicine: there is one medicine that heals. In medicine, there must be no divisions. Medicine is medicine, it is not orthodox, holistic or complementary. All the different ways in medicine must unite to serve the patient and not to dissect him according to the commercial business systems. The materialistic allopathic, orthodox, school of medicine must not be restricted only to its mechanical, biological and atheistic thinking because the human being is not only a biological machine or a series of biochemical reactions. Such rigid materialistic thinking ignores our human substance. What about our unique individuality and consciousness? What about our emotions and creative thinking? What about our Spirit? All these human properties display a role in the causes of disease. Our allopathic reductional and materialistic thinking must be opened to the large human universe. The rigidity of the medical systems in western medicine acts like a machine that ignored human compassion. It became somewhat cruel with the patient. That is why many people prefer to be treated by magicians, shamans, or healers who satisfy their emotional needs. Quacks and fakes listen to the patients more diligently than do orthodox doctors. I am afraid that charlatan therapists who manipulate emotionally and psychologically the vulnerable sick may assume the place of the devoted, pragmatic physician. I am not judging any system or blaming any establishment, but I am concerned with the human values of the medical sciences. I want the practice of medicine to be full of warmth and enlightened relations between the patient and the physician. A new collaboration is urgently
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needed between businessmen, politicians, free thinkers, medical scientists and practitioners to serve the public health on wiser and more compassionate bases. In order to heal the patient we need first to heal our systems. One day I received a telephone call at the hotel where I was staying. A psychiatrist medical researcher was interested in my medical work. I visited him. He presented me with his C.V. He had an international reputation, having practiced medicine in many countries. He has published hundreds of research studies about healing and met healers from all over the world. When I presented my medical accomplishments to him, he considered me a very powerful healer and the first doctor and healer in this century. I asked him: Dear colleague what name can I give to my medical specialty? You are a healer and your medicine is healing energy medicine. How is that? Yes, for you channel through your hands the energy that heals. You have golden hands. What kind of energy? Cosmic energy. If the people are to call me a healer, then they will ask me with what I heal. If I tell them with an energy channeled through me, then they will ask me what kind of energy. I am incapable of telling them whether my healing energy is kinetic, electric, magnetic or atomic. Some, may not like the term energy, fearing that somehow my healing uses sexual energy. Then tell them that you are using life energy or bioenergy. People, this way, may get even more confused because they do not know what life energy is and where it comes from. Look here, your work is called spiritual healing and you are a spiritual healer. This is a dangerous term to define my work. This definition is for healers who belong to the Church and heal by the Holy Spirit. Any spiritual healing not flowing out from the Church is considered coming from demons. You are a healer. You have a God-sent gift. God, or your high awareness, tells you what to do. Your intuitive diagnosis and healing work descend from above. If I am a healer sent by God, then I need a certificate from Him proving what you are saying. Who gives this certificate? Who dares to
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take the responsibility to give me such authority? The only certificate I have is that of general practitioner. You do miracles. Medicine does no miracles I do not intend to do miracles. I am not a circus magician. I want, through my medical work, to cure physical illness and stress that come from negative relationships. The goal of the healing process is to inspire the individual to love life in his neighbor as much as he loves it in himself. I am devoted, as a physician, to serve life, to serve the sick with all my heart and mind. My enrolment is to inspire others with true happiness. My message in medicine is to contribute to healing the body and the soul from miseries At the end, my colleague was charming, when he saw my fire of compassion he was not interested any more about healing theories because he felt my warm presence is energizing. His wife was a therapist. She felt my medical practice must be done in silence and not with unending theories. She came quietly to me and asked me to cure her frozen shoulder and I did I was recommended to visit many medical doctors who were open to my message. One of them was Michael, a loveable and honest English gentleman and a humble and compassionate physician. His patients adore him because, as a general practitioner, he is skilful and full of warm feelings towards others. When I met him, he asked me to cure an ache in his back that never responded to orthodox medical treatment, nor to physiotherapy and any of the alternative therapies. I did a few sessions of my treatment to him and he was cured. He then sent me most of his patients with muscular-skeletal problems and I helped them. I was also recommended to a doctor called Jane. She invited me to the hospital where she works. She was a surgeon and also professed to be a spiritual healer with special abilities to heal others by praying for them and even by sending absent messages to heal from a distance. She wanted to heal the world. When I entered her office, looking at me as if I was a person from outer space, she asked me: Why have you come to Britain? I replied: I came for the advancement of medicine and to collaborate with my colleagues in the UK and present to them my medical discoveries that were successful in many cases with patients considered incurable. Dr. Jane was irritated with my answer, which gave her the impression that I am a bragging oriental snob. She replied angrily:

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Look, here in England you must listen to us. You are sent here by God to learn and to overcome your negativity. I shall send you to a healer who is my great spiritual teacher and master, and he will help you. His name is Peter. He is originally from South Africa. He is my guide and puts me in speaking contact with my daughter who died ten years ago. I went to meet the healer Peter who is Dr. Janes great master, for I was curious to see how healers look. I arrived by train to his village in the Surrey countryside. He received me in his kitchen, sitting at a table with his girlfriend who is a healer believing in reincarnation. As I stepped into Peters house, his girlfriend pointed at me with her finger and said: We have met this man before. We were together in a past life, in the island of Atlantis in the year 5001 BC. Peter, do you remember that? Yes, I remember him, said Peter, we were also together with David in Jerusalem. We were there with Jesus Christ. Then, looking at me, he added: You see, we know each other since about seven thousand years. What an extraordinary past life we had together. You are my oldest friend, we were together since the beginning of the world. I looked at these two healers who claim they can heal others, and thought that I was having an audible hallucination. Peter invited me to the living room to sit on an armchair and perform on me a session to heal me from my oriental negativity. Sit, sit down, he said. I sat on the armchair. Close, close your eyes. I closed my eyes. What do you see, now that your eyes are closed? I see nothing Peter. Open your eyes, then close them again and tell me what do you see? I did not answer. What do you see? repeated Peter. I did not answer. Peter asked me the same question again and again. At last, I got irritated of such a crude manipulative procedure, and, wanting to stop him without being rude, I invented an answer designed to satisfy him: Peter, I see an angel. An angel is what I see. Open your eyes now and you will see the angel on the wall. I opened my eyes and looked at Peter in the face.
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This angel helped Christ and now is helping me and you to heal the British islands and that is why I and you are here. Go now, go back to your home. I have given you the message. I must leave you now and go to my room to meet my spiritual guide from Galaxy Andramyra. I am his medium. I left the house of Peter feeling dizzy and unbalanced! What else is delirium?

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An operation from outer space

Most of the physicians I met were open to my work. They were very kind and wanted me to collaborate with them and help their patients. My colleagues sent me many patients with difficult illnesses. I did not care how others saw and described my work. I was doing my duty and my patients were getting better. In London I came into contact with a New World: the mystic and poetic world of healers and of the intuitive art of different therapists. I learned the language of the heart from many unorthodox therapists and added it to my medical paraphernalia. My interaction with English people was unusual and lovely. At first, the English mentality found it difficult to accept my new ways of helping patients. To many, I was an unusual, awkward doctor coming to London from the wilderness. With time, however, the English society felt my strong message of compassion and I became heartily welcome by many English people. One day, as I was sitting in a coffee restaurant in Chelsea, a tall man, finding the place crowded, came and sat at my table. Suddenly, I was inspired to talk to him. Sir, I think we know each other, I said. I am Barry, I think we know each other from a past life, he said, laughing. What are you saying, Mr. Barry? I asked, amazed. A medium told me that I will meet, in a Chelsea coffee restaurant, a man from Lebanon with whom I was in relation in a past life. Are you from Lebanon? he asked. I was surprised and alarmed to find that this Englishman knows so much about me. I supposed that one of my patients must have told him about me. Nevertheless, what he was telling me did not put me off because Barry seemed to be a polite, good hearted, compassionate and generous man in his sixties, with a strong sense of humor. Furthermore, he came from a well-known English family; he was rich and spent most of his time meeting unusual people. It was clear to me that he lived in his own romantic world of fantasy and wonders.

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My name is R. I am a medical practitioner and researcher. Please Barry, tell me how did you find out that I am from Lebanon? I asked, unable to hide my astonishment. Laughing humorously, Barry said: The spirit came through a Brazilian woman in trance and told me about you. I do not understand, I said doubtfully. Twenty years ago, I was in Brazil where I met a clairvoyant and psychic healer who was living in the Amazonian jungle. He told me that in the beginning of 1993, I shall meet you in a cafe restaurant on Kings Road not far from my flat. Today is the 14 th of January 1993 and here am I talking to you. I did not believe, at the time, what the Brazilian medium was saying, but now, it seems that his vision was true. It is obvious that the Spirit knows you and was well informed of our meeting today. Isnt that extraordinary? I was amused with what Barry was saying, and enjoyed listening to him. I was especially curious to hear more stories from him. Why did you go to Brazil to meet the clairvoyant medium. I asked. I had a paralytic colon and medicine could do nothing for me other than a temporary relief with colon irrigation. I was obliged to find somebody who could help me and save my life. I heard that there were certain persons, called healers, who posses a healing gift. Many of them are charlatans, but few are said to perform miracles. I was advised by a friend to go to Brazil and meet psychic surgeons, spiritual healers and mediums. There are plenty of them in Latin America. I listened to Barry and thought at first that he was crazy. For if, since twenty years he has a paralytic colon, then he would surely be dead by now. What he is saying is medically impossible! Barry, I said, I am a physician, tell me how did you find out that you had a paralytic colon? I had all the medical tests. I was always plagued with bad indigestion, abdominal heaviness, ballooning and severe intestinal colic and constipation. I felt very tired and dizzy all the time. Most of the time, my body was poisoned by food malabsorption. I was going every two days to my doctor in Harley Street and all he could do for me was colon irrigation. After a short time the irrigation became ineffective. Barrys accurate description of his syndrome kept me wondering how, with such a syndrome, could he still be alive? Barry, tell me, I said, when you went to Brazil to solve your problem, did the healers there help you?
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I began by visiting a clairvoyant who told me that I will live a normal life in an unusual way, and that I will meet you here. Look here, I am a medical doctor, so do not tell me such stupidity. Your problem is in your mind. You need a change in your mind! My mind is good. I am a homeopath. If you really are a doctor, you must listen to me carefully and understand objectively my problem. If your mind is all right, tell me what you did in Brazil. I visited many places in Brazil. One of them was an operative theatre for psychic surgery. There, they give the patients the same preparation given in a hospital. The staff of healers is dressed in white like surgeons. They never use any drugs or instruments to operate on patients. They lay their hands on the patient and perform an operation on him by using spirits. I also visited a famous healer. I saw in his salon many women with breast cancer. He went with his hand on the tumor of every breast, rubbing the cancer with his fingers. Suddenly, I could see the tumor disappearing. He did that in front of me for about ten women and the healers manipulative fingers cured them all. I was amazed with what the healer was doing. I had never seen something like that in all my life. I asked him to tell me his secret. He said that a flow of cosmic energy comes through his fingers dematerializing the tumor mass. Barry was speaking with enthusiasm and passion. He felt relaxed with me because I was genuinely trying to understand his ordeal, although it was clearly beyond understanding. Yet, in spite of all his arguments, I still could not take him seriously. Barry, a well-educated English gentleman who never lies, was extremely irritated with me because I was looking at him with skeptic eyes. Well, Barry, I said at last, how was your colon problem finally solved? In Brazil, I did not find a solution to my own problem. I came back to London extremely tired and disappointed. I went to see a top surgeon of the abdomen, but he said that a surgical operation could not solve my paralytic colon, and that only God could. But I did not believe in God and all the religious brainwash. All the doors of hope became closed to me. Finally, I was advised to visit a healer in the UK. I shrugged the idea because, firstly, the greatest healers of the world, who are in Brazil, could do nothing for me, and secondly, I had reached a point of desperation of finding any treatment for my case. But at the end, I was

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convinced, as a last resort, to visit the English healer, who happened to be a woman. Her name is Wendy Scott and lives in the London countryside. When I visited Mrs. Scott, I found that she was an illiterate, funny woman who is always laughing. She heals the patient by laying one hand on him, while with the other she holds a cigarette. Upon examining my case, she told me that the spirit of an ancient doctor from space called Zezeeny will come through her and will help me. She went in a trance. Suddenly her voice changed and became hoarse. A mans voice spoke through her. He told me what drugs I was taking and what doctor was treating me, and what were the results of my laboratory tests. I was stupefied to hear these questions since Mrs. Scott never broached this subject. The Doctor in spirit, Mr. Zezeeny, spoke to me using Mrs. Scott as a medium, saying: To you Mr. Barry we will do an operation from outer space and it will be the first medical experiment done on earth. We, as a cosmic medical team, will change the physiology of your body and its chemistry and you will be all right. We will channel our healing energy through Mrs. Scott, who, in turn, will transfer it to you and you will be cured. Mrs. Scott performed several healing sessions upon me directed her spiritual guide Dr. Zezeeny and after several sessions, I became better. I could eat well. All the abdominal distension, tiredness and fatigue disappeared. My blood test became normal. I became energetic and healthy. I felt comfortable. But one thing was not solved in all these twenty years: no stools come out of me. I just go to the toilet to urinate. I wonder what happens to the solid residuals that my body cannot evacuate! I laughed at what Barry was telling me. I thought that, even if Barrys story had occurred in reality, my duty was not to believe it, because I never accept things that happen beyond the understanding of the human mind. But my curiosity as a physician prompted me to question the unusual healing phenomenon. I asked: Barry, if the spirit of the extraterrestrial doctor has cured you by changing the physiology of your systems so that now you are still alive without having stools, then why did the spirit not tell you physically what he did? What is the new physiological thing, which is going now within you? The spirit came one day through Mrs. Scott, while she was doing the session and said: Barry, do not try to understand what is going on within you. I performed a change in your systems: the residuals of

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your digested food will be transformed in your intestines to energy and you will have no stools anymore. Can I meet your spiritual healer, Mrs. Scott? Yes, you can meet her, she lives in the countryside by the sea. She is a very nice old lady in her eighties, with a sense of humor that makes you laugh all the time. She is a simple woman, extremely compassionate, selfless and full of faith. She cured me without taking from me money. Has she cured other patients? Yes, she cured a well known Harley Street doctor, who is the consultant of both the Queen and the Queen Mother. The doctor was embedded in hospital with a severe medical case. His colleagues could not help him. The orthodox medicine failed to know what was the matter with him and his case did not respond to any treatment. I brought Mrs. Scott to him in the hospital. The doctors left her to treat the doctor-patient according to her inspiration. Mrs. Scott came near him, holding her cigarette in one hand, while her other hand was over the doctors body. After a session of a quarter of an hour, the Harley Street doctor was cured. He rose from his bed and walked as if by a miracle. His colleagues in the hospital were amazed with what Mrs. Scott had done. A team of the hospital physicians called her to explain to them what was the diagnosis of their colleague. The illiterate healer Mrs. Scott answered them: The disease of the doctor was a missing factor in the spine. I became dizzy with Barrys stories, which put me in touch with an unusual world. I wanted to know Barry better and to examine and verify if what he was saying was true. Barry and I left the cafe restaurant and went to his flat. I saw, in his room a wooden instrument with small blue, yellow and red lamps. Beside it there was a pendulum for hypnotizing and a homeopathic manual. I asked Barry what did he do with his simple wooden instrument. He answered me: I do radionics. I heal patients from a distance. I have helped many patients from serious diseases by healing them in their absence using the technique of radionics. I have helped all my life people free of charge. I even graciously offer most of my patients the homeopathic medicines needed. Barry, you believe in God? No, I believe in what is good to humanity. Barry and I became very good friends and, during the two years I stayed in England, I made solid investigations to verify if all the stories

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he told me were true. Yes, was the result, and Barry is an honest and truthful man.

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My days in Chelsea
Whatever may be his conditions in life, a human being must always have something to give in order to contribute to the happiness of others. I enjoyed the cosmopolitan life in London. In joined societies where you can easily organize your thoughts for creativity. I was enjoying my time by making friends of different nationalities, cultures and religions. Such an atmosphere brought me great new life experiences. In London, my friend Barry who realized that there was in me a powerful gift of healing, introduced me to exclusive English societies. One day we were together in a restaurant in Chelsea managed by a woman. While Barry and I were having dinner, the woman came up to us. I noticed that she was limping and could hardly walk. I whispered to Barry saying: Look, I can help this woman just by touching her hip in the place which is calcified and by pressing a little on her coax-femur joint and she will be able to walk properly. Barry, extremely interested with what I said, wanted to see if could really cure her as I said. He went to the woman and asked her to come near me to have her hip treated. The woman did so. I manipulated her joint gently with my fingers. After two minutes, I asked her to walk. She started to walk quickly in the restaurant without dragging her leg and without limping. Suddenly, she cried with joy: Oh my God, my hip has become normal All the people in the restaurant, who saw what happened, could not believe their eyes. They could not understand what I did for the restaurant manager. To them, it was like a miracle. The woman addressed the customers in the restaurant, saying: Look! Fantastic, fantastic! I am cured now! I can walk. I was scheduled to go next week to the orthopedic surgeon and undergo a surgical operation of hip replacement. Look, now I am all right! The whole atmosphere in the restaurant became excited and curious. Many people left their tables and came to me to touch them in order to heal them from various problems. Some had arthritis, a frozen arm, knee problems, back pain etc. Most of them were cured spontaneously. The whole restaurant was transformed into a clinic of group healing that looked more like a medical circus. Skeptic people in the restaurant came to ask me different questions. A suspicious and serious
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conservative English gentleman asked me, what kind of doctor I am, a magician or a spiritual one? I answered: I am a clown doctor: Fun and acting recondition the patient and he is cured. In the Chelsea restaurant, after my spontaneous healing of the woman, the whole atmosphere became chaotic. Barry and I could not get rid of the people who were curious to meet me. Barry looked at me and said: My goodness! I have never seen something like that in all my life!

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In a Chelsea church hall

The news of my miraculous healing of the woman in the Chelsea restaurant spread quickly. People started to ask questions about me and sought to meet me in Kings Road or in adjoining cafes and pubs. It became difficult for me to communicate with so many people. Barry thought to organize meetings for me with them. I rented a hall in one of the churches of Chelsea and invited whoever wanted to see me to meet me there. More than a hundred persons came. I delivered a speech to the people and healed scores from different disorders. A young man came up to me on a wheelchair. His face was joyful and his eyes were full of faith. I asked him how he had his spine injury? He replied: I was a British paratrooper officer in the Falkland war. As I landed with my parachute on the island, I injured my spine. What do you feel? I asked. I always feel good, for instead of becoming a war hero, I have become a hero of life. Happy with my situation, I go everywhere and speak to the people, teaching them how to be positive. My life on a wheelchair strengthened my spirit. Out of my humility, I became powerful. I meditated intensely till I reached faith. My personal experiences and positive thinking inspired many people not to get frustrated by their problems and to perceive life from different angles. A deaf young woman, attracted to my energy as a man, came to me in the hall and asked me to put my hand on her neck and ears. I touched her ears and she felt good. I hugged her and she felt better. Then, she started to cry saying that something has happened to her. Her ears were opened and suddenly she heard. Tears flooded her cheeks. She looked strangely at the people around and said: Why do you speak loudly. Then a woman called Susan came to me. For fifty years she had a congenital cataract in both her eyes. She had four operations but still she could not see well. I laid my warm hands on Susans eyes, while the people in the hall, including some physicians, were watching. After a session of one minute of warm healing to Susans eyes, I asked her to see if she was getting better.

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Susans eyes immediately became better. Her eyesight was not blurred anymore. She felt enlightened in her soul and in her eyes. She started to see more and more the light of the world. The people in the healing hall started to ask me different questions. Is Susans congenital cataract a karma? Or an energetic blockage? Could she be healed in such a simple way and will her problem not return? A colleague who was an ophthalmologist noticed the progress in Susans eyes. He asked me in front of all the assistance: Why is Susan now healed whereas for fifty years nobody could do anything for her? I replied with a voice as if calling from the wilderness: Susan was destined to be blind since her birth. But now the time has come for her eyes to open and to see God. There was a big silence in the hall. Love and mystic fear were seen on the faces of the people.

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The spiritual crooks

After the healing sessions came to an end, I went with Barry to a nearby cafe. Barry was telling me stories of his spiritual experiences. He said that in Chelsea he had met with many healers and gurus from different countries in the world. One of them was an Indian spiritual leader and teacher. He was a tall person with a big white beard. He was dressed in a white robe, walked in the Chelsea Kings Road, calling: Appy, appy, peace, peace. Many people followed him, expecting the Indian Guru to give them happiness. I asked: Did the Indian guru give his followers happiness? Barry answered: He took their money and brainwashed them. He promised they would reach the highest state of bliss, Nirvana, if they follow his technique of meditation. He put them to sit still, close their eyes and to think of nothing, till they feel that they are flying. It may be that these meditations do good by relaxing from negative stress, I said. You know that when the individual conditions his mind by using in continuity different techniques of meditation or visualization or selfhypnosis or self-suggestion, his brain secretes substances like endorphine or serotonin which are natural secretions of morphine or heroine by the body. By this way many get addicted to their own natural drugs and become mentally sick and corrupted from reality. Different sects or groups, in order to dominate people or to serve certain interests, use these methods and ways of psychological conditional reflexes. Barry let every one find his own way and belief in life. I know of many people who used different techniques of meditation that did them good. For example, I have patients who were sick with anxiety, psychomotor agitation and muscular spasm and tension in their body. They had tremendous stress, which sometimes increased their level of blood sugar and pressure. I told them to meditate. The meditation did them good. Certain patients with hyper stress did Zen meditation or Christian meditation and the results were very good. Also, I warned my patients not to be conditioned by different beliefs and become addicted to meditations. I encouraged them to find their own way of relaxation and the best way to deal with their own stress. I know what you mean, said Barry. But in our societies there are clever crooks who manipulate simple, credulous people emotionally. They condition their minds with belief illusions and brainwash them. They lead them to negative sects, cults and parties. These false leaders
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nourish the ego of their followers by tranquilizing their anxieties and frustrations. They weaken them by enfeebling their psychological defense mechanism against their reality instead of strengthening it to face their truth. They blind them by charming and magical methods. They lead them to believe in unreal things and addict them to a world of fancy. They abuse and exploit them for certain powers. They lead them to spiritual death Please, I said, I dont want to hear any more. I am not interested to explore the world of selfishness. I look to the world of love. By my medical work, I learned to love my patient as myself. The people you described as crooks and their followers are blind in need of love. It may be that they never received compassion and love from anybody and that is why they are insecure and want to prove themselves in one way or the other. Many leaders seek a position of leadership in order to compensate for the love denied to them by captivating the attention of their followers. Their followers, also wanting the same thing, look to the leader as a paternal figure who raises sympathy. Once we understand the reason behind relationships, we can perceive things wisely, without judging or condemning anybody. I give love to the person seeking it, because I believe that he suffers from insecurity and lack of communication with others. Barry, fed up with my positivism, ended the discussion gently, in a polite English way, saying: You are right! So awfully right! What you are saying is wonderful! You look like an ancient sage.

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The secret of a world famous healer

In England, most of my patients called me a spiritual healer. Many physicians also described my work as healing, considering that I have a divine gift that cures diseases. I wanted to carry out extensive research in this field and to meet many healers in order to examine their work with scientific objectivity, because my approach to the patient and my treatment is based on the universal rational thinking of modern science. When I was in Rumania, the wife of the British Ambassador helped me enormously in my medical research. She gave me books to read about holistic medicine and the biographies of healers. One of the books, written by an American writer, was about X, a fabulous Christian healer who did miracles. He was described as capable of curing cancer, of dematerializing his body in order to travel in space and materializing it again. Healer X met with Martians and invited them to his dinner. One day Healer X was brought from his country to give a sermon in a London church. A big audience came to listen to him. Healer X stood on the pulpit and faced the people like a general facing his troops and ordered them to stand up and to recite the Our Father. He then asked the audience: How many of you saw the angels? Many became excited, they raised their hands and answered with enthusiasm I! I! I saw the angels He then spoke in a juggling incomprehensible and senseless language. At the end, all the audience applauded him with enthusiasm without understanding a word of what Healer X had said. They thought that his philosophy was so far beyond their comprehension, that they couldnt comprehend it, and that his sermon must be remarkable if only because the book written about him was a best seller. I asked a friend of mine who was present if he understood anything. He replied: I came not to understand what the great healer was saying but to feel and enjoy his energy. I was invited the next day by my friend Barry and a psychotherapist to meet Healer X at the Harlingen club, in a small park on

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the bank of the Thames. We walked between old cypress trees and rows of roses. When we reached a cozy corner, a discussion started between us. Sir, I said, do you, a Christian healer, believe that you heal by the Holy Spirit. Yes, he answered, I do, and I know everything about Christ even beyond what is written in the Gospels. Are you a Christian so that I can be frank with you? Yes, I am a Christian and my Christianity prompts me to serve people, to take their pain and to carry their burden, including those who hate Christ. But how can you be sure that you know more about Christ than what the Gospels say? I know every detail about the Son of God. I have all his secrets because I am the incarnation of St. John. In my past life I was the Lords most beloved disciple. I was near him when he was crucified. How can you be St. John the Disciple, since in the book written about you, you speak of yourself, and about how you dematerialize your body and fly all over the world and how you performed many extraordinary miracles, whereas St. John was very circumspect about himself. He spoke only about Christ and his great message of Love and the salvation of humanity. Whereas you show yourself as a superman? I did not speak about myself. An American writer wrote the book to which you are referring. It tells lies and false stories in order to sell the book. He invented about me unreal fictions. Why did you never protest against the falsehood written about you, and point out the truth? By your silence, you are directly or indirectly cheating naive people and inciting them to come and meet you, and I may be one of them. The Americans wrote about me the book. They were bad, he answered angrily. Blame yourself and not the others. I do not like your negative political slogans. The Americans were wicked with me. The wickedness is the negativity that your book can implant in the minds of its readers. In it, you appear as a magician and a supernatural man. The healing episodes, which you told to the American writer, were deifying you. If you are a true healer, your healing work must not appear as magic. It must appear as fruits of love to enlighten others on the way of universal human values. If you are a real Christian then go and confess your truth to the people who are your followers because they are deceived by your book. Go and kneel in front of them and apologize. Do what St.
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Augustine did. Convince the people that you are not an important person. Do not let others get addicted to your false image. Dedicate yourself to impart to others the good that is in you, without expecting anything for yourself, not even words of appreciation Dont tell me what to do. I am a great Christian Healer. You must take in consideration that I was in my past life the Disciple St. John. You must calm down and believe in me and in my Teacher with whom I lived in the Holy Land two millenniums ago. My dear friend, dont be embarrassed if, with all my love, I am trying to clarify things. You need first to heal yourself. You are not St. John. You are like me: a stupid person. You and I never heal anybody. Christ, when He cured a patient, used to say: Your faith healed you. Listen to me: You are not St. John, do not lie to yourself and to others. St. John was humble, whereas you are arrogant and that is why you blame the Americans and not yourself.

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Believe and beliefs

Aliens healing energy
One day, someone called me at home on the telephone. A person wanted to consult me about his daughter. Hello! he said, Dr. Daoud, are you a healer? Many people call me a healer! Do you collaborate with the Aliens? What do you mean, I dont understand! Did you derive your healing energy from the Aliens? May be. But tell me sir, what is your relationship with the Aliens? I am a very good friend of the Aliens. I meet them every day. I talk to them. I always hear their voices in my ears. They always guard me. How can I help you? I want to send you my daughter who is a schizophrenic. If your healing comes from the aliens, then you can heal her. Sorry, sir, I am not a healer, I am a medical doctor, a general practitioner.

Believe in the bed

A patient friend of mine had a slip disc. The neurosurgeon wanted to operate upon him. He refused the surgical treatment and turned to me to heal him. I asked him to rest immobilized on a suitably hard bed he had and on which I slept for two weeks. He did what I asked. He rested on it the fourteen days I had recommended as his treatment. By the tenth day he was cured because many times bed rest can solve back problems. The patient thought that it was my healing energy, which soaked in the mattress when I slept on it, that healed him. He stubbornly refused to accept any other explanation.

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Believe in absent healing

A woman rang up from America requesting me to send her a long distance treatment for her mother who had pain in her body and could not walk. She told me on the telephone that all her mothers medical tests were normal. I understood from her description that this was a case of a kind of depression. I calmed her down and told her to train her mother to walk by giving her confidence, and to ring me back in a week to tell me about the evolution of her case. A few days later, the American woman rang up to tell me that her mother is walking. She firmly believed that I sent her an absentee healing treatment. She wanted to give me the number of her American Express credit card in order to charge my fees. But I refused her offer

My Myth
Another woman who was cured in my clinic of a heart problem and migraine, came one day to my clinic to pay me for the medical visit she said I did her the night before. I was surprised at what she was doing and telling me. I thought that she was crazy. At the end, I knew that last night she slept with pain in her legs and saw me in her dream massaging her legs. She woke up in the morning and her legs were cured. She thought that I had visited her in the night and felt guilty for not paying me my medical fees.

My patient is my medical teacher

A ninety-two year old woman of the Greek aristocracy came to visit me in the Hale clinic. She wanted me to straighten her bowed back. Upon examining her, I observed that her case was normal for her age. I told her the truth. But she insisted on my giving her energy from my body. I laughed at her superficial belief and said: I cannot treat your back because I have no treatment for such a case. She insisted again and encouraged me to try some sessions on her. She offered to pay me a lot of money. But I did not agree. I did not want to take advantage of her.

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The woman answered: I came to you not to expect help from you, but to do my duty towards myself. I wish to give my life, which is a gift from God, the best possible treatment. Do what I am asking and leave the rest to God. Do not worry too much, doctor, for I had an inspiration to come to you. I will be grateful even if your therapy will not straighten my back. I want at the end to show my God that I never abandoned hope. The words of the woman showed a strong faith that can heal her even when medicine is unable to do so. Therefore, I became inspired and confident and willing to carry my treatment for her free of charge. I treated the old woman with several sessions of physical therapy. In a period of a month her back became straight and she became full of energy. At her last visit to me she thanked me and said: Thank you, with your help, I am not afraid of dying anymore.

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Healing the mind

Mr. Z., ailing with a chronic lumbago, came to me walking on crutches. His back was bent for the past six months to the right and forward. He could not straighten up. It was difficult for him to stand up when he was sitting or lying down. He had visited many medical centers until he understood that orthodox traditional treatments could not help him. Upon examining him, I found that there was a contraction in the muscles of the lower back on the right vertebral side more than on the left. I stretched the contracted muscles and relaxed them in a session of physical therapy, thereby releasing the muscular pressure that was trapping the fourth and fifth lumbar vertebrates. The patient was cured. He could walk straight and without using crutches. I told him to return after a week for another session of my original treatment. The man came to my clinic the next time. I examined his back and all his body. He was completely cured. All the people around him realized his improvement. I asked him how he felt. He replied: I am the same. How can you be the same? Look, your back is straight and you walk now without crutches. All the people around you see that you are cured. How come you do not feel that you are much better? He answered apathetically: I am the same, I am not at all better. I am the same! Please tell me what is still annoying you. I am stillnot good. Do you still feel any pain? My pain is worse. Where is your pain? All over my body... It was extremely difficult to convince Mr. Z. that he was better. I looked deeply in his eyes and found no smile in them. He looked as if he was wearing black glasses and seeing everything around him black. What good is it to cure the back or the leg of somebody if the person remains sulky and could not find happiness? Is the human being only a back or a leg? Is his suffering just a physical disorder? Before my treatment, Mr. Z. believed that all his frustrations in life were caused by his back problem. He was releasing his inner tension by projecting his problems on his physical deformation. His Lumbago was just a mask. Behind the
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discopathy was the patient: Mr. Z. When I made him stand straight on his legs without crutches, I made him feel that he had lost the sympathy and the attention of everyone. There was no more reason to pretend that he is weak and hence could rely on his health for an excuse not to do what he did not like to do. That is why, I was convinced, that he preferred to remain sick. When the back problem of Mr. Z. was cured, his mask was taken away and he had no chance to convince others or himself that he is not well. No pity anymore for Mr. Z. He had now to face his own reality and to free himself from all his childish anxieties. I tried all different methods and techniques of treatment on Mr. Z. but all the avenues, which could lead me to change his mind, were closed. I realized at the end that the back of Mr. Z. was cured but, as a patient, he was not at all healed. His pain now is no more in his back but in his soul. It is his soul that needs to be healed. He must open his heart to God and thank Him for everything. Yesterday he was limping, but today he is groping in the darkness. One day he might catch the thread of light.

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The absurd medical researcher

Dr. T., a famous medical researcher, was obsessed with the need to discover the secret behind my healing work. Being sick with chronic fatigue and having a psychosomatic disorder, he wanted to experience my healing skills on himself, before starting his research on my healing phenomena. He visited me in my clinic and wanted me to explain to him intuitively about his illness without telling me anything about his disorder or letting me examine him. He wanted to see if I had the gift of an intuitive diagnosis. Being my colleague, I respected his approach to me. He stood silent facing me and I observed on his face many signs of his medical disorder and was able to conclude what was the disease of Dr. T. and to describe his syndrome congruent with his psychological patterns. Dr. T. was amazed of how I knew what was the matter with him. Extremely curious, he asked me: How did you diagnose so accurately my problem. I did not tell you anything about me, then who told you about me. Who is your Guide? My medical experiences and studies, are my guide. I have certain rules on which I base myself sometimes when it is necessary to reach urgently and intuitively a diagnosis. I answered. No, putting the clear diagnoses without relying on the technology of the radiological and laboratory explorations is a matter of gift. Very few people have your abilities. I can help you to know from where your gift comes. There is no need to tell me. All I need from you is to let me cure your chronic fatigue syndrome. I answered. Unless I know where your gift comes from, I will not accept your treatment. I am a rational person. I do things on a clear basis. Any way, whenever you are convinced of my gift and are ready to receive my physical therapy, please call me! Dr T. went to an illiterate woman who was a medium. She channels the spirit of a Chinese Dr. called Tshan. In a session with the medium he asked the spirit Tshan about his medical case. His approach to the spirit of the Doctor was the same as his approach to me, and the answer of Tshan to his medical case was the same as mine. On the other

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hand, in comparison to Tshans approach, my intuitive explanation to his diagnosis was more detailed. The absurd Doctor did his own studies about Tshan and found in the past centuries that the Chinese Dr. had a master called Ban. Therefore, he reached the conclusion that I am a medium for the spiritual master Ban, and that my intuitive gift comes from Ban. Because Dr. T. believed that I am not conscious of my spiritual guide, he came to my clinic to convince me about his discovery about my gift and to brainwash me and to separate me from my orthodox world of medicine for some unknown reason. Colleague, now I can accept your treatment for me, because I know your spiritual master. Your healing gift comes from Ban. My master is not from dead China. My master is Love that comes from my heart, and the sufferers know that from my deeds. My master educated me to be a humble and faithful servant to others. He taught me how to love my patient as myself. If your master is Ban, go to him and leave me in peace!

Lady, I am not your gigolo

Lady E. a pretty young Lady, asked me to visit her in her home. She suffered from chronic fatigue, insomnia and severe muscular pain. She had visited many medical centers all over the world. In all her medical tests no signs of any pathology had been identified. Physicians could not diagnose her illness. I examined her and realized that her subjective suffering was based on a psychological disorder. What could it be? I must develop a good clinical relationship with lady E. in order to understand fully her problem. Lady E. was extremely attracted to my energy from the first meeting. I discussed with her different subjects and arrived at a clear concept concerning her. She was more than a princess. A very rich woman brought up in a high society. She was an excellent artistic and intellectual personality with a tremendous compassion. Her life was full of luxury and prosperity. She had everything: the most comfortable conditions a human being could have, then why does she suffer? On the other hand, her activities were wonderful, she gives a lot of money to help the poor, she is a member of many charitable organizations and lectures on subjects of humanity in different society circles. Full of charm and beauty, she was a very loveable lady and a brilliant member of the community. In more details, her private life was special, she was an extremely sensual woman
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and had plenty of handsome lovers. Then, having all this, why did lady E. suffer? What sort of inside problem could be causing her pain? Lady E. welcomed my medical approach to her with great warmth. She guided me by her kindness and trust to enter deeply into the world of her soul. She fascinated me by her great generosity and sincerity. Anxious all the time to give others, she became so addicted to her compassionate daily activities that she lost herself in her own image of the world. She knew how to give more than how to receive; how to face the difficulties of her exterior universe, but not how to face her inner difficulties. It seemed to me that princess E. was on the way to gaining the world and loosing herself. That is why, as long as she was in the midst of her pleasurable activities during the day, she felt uplifted and euphoric. But when she slept in bed and had nothing to do, she was unable to calm her anxiety, relax and confront herself and was prey to insomnia and pain. Her condition was similar to that of drug addicts. Always, she need tranquilizers to calm her anxieties in order to avoid facing reality, otherwise, she gets hysterical. Lady E. was overtaken with her exterior world and missed an intimate relationship with herself. She was extremely indulged and absorbed in her social pleasurable activities. My treatment to Lady E. was oriented to balance her energy by liberating herself from her addictive manners and a determination to find the beauty of life within herself. She must realize that, in her state of loneliness, God is overwhelming her with tremendous compassion. Then only will all her somatic and psychic agitation be cured and her need to have always something to hold on to will be replaced by Faith. I did several healing sessions on the lady. She felt extraordinarily well when I laid my hand on her body. My treatment, positively acting on her emotions, provided her with great sensual pleasure. Never mind! I took in consideration her human feelings! I was kneeling before her body as in prayer. Through me was channeled a universal love energy that heals and detaches me from the emotional and sensual world. I felt that my patient will gradually get in good relation with God, and that her human nature will be in harmony with the divine. But lady Es healing process was not occurring in such an easy way. Lady E. saw me as a lifesaver. She saw in me her artistic, intellectual, romantic and sensual world. To her, I was an erotic god instead of a God-sent healer. I could not blame her and even less be involved emotionally in her esoteric feelings. Because she did not find happiness in all her social activities and relationships, she thought that
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that alone would bring her happiness. In me, she saw a rich and compassionate universe that was new to her. At first, she fell in deep love with my healing energy and got addicted to it. She thought that she was in love with me. It was normal that the healing moved in her an emotional love and it was normal for me to be wise and selfless in order to direct her love towards God, not me. Could this be done by my sessions? Perhaps, but only by giving her what she needs and not what she wants! I had to inspire and determine her to be enlightened in order to be able to challenge her problems and discover Universal Compassion. I must help the nice lady to find a meaning for her life beyond her daily conditioning. Lady E. felt much better after four sessions of my therapy. At first she believed that I healed her but she had no confidence that she can heal herself after my treatment course was finished. She had the fear of being abandoned, of her pain returning and not finding me again. Always, she wanted my presence to be with her, otherwise, she was afraid to go on by herself without my aid. That is why she became attached or addicted to me. I was like as a pair of crutches to her. Her fear and lack of faith were projected on me and turned into a sentimental love in order to keep my healing energy constantly at hand. She refused to get conscious of her inside strength. At the end, I tried to convince her that she was cured and that I should leave her, but she refused, saying: God has sent you to me. I need you always by my side to treat me. I will give you everything, but do not leave me. You brought happiness to my heart and I never want to miss you! What will I become in your absence? You are all right now. My medical examination shows me that you are completely cured and you confirmed it by telling me that you are no more in pain. My role is finished and you are fit as a newborn baby. I did my best for you. Excuse me, if I will not visit you anymore because I will be busy to help other patients who need me. Tears flowed down her cheeks and with a choked voice she replied: Dont leave me please, I still have pain at night when I am in bed, because I feel lonely and you are not beside me to apply your warm hands on my body to relieve the pain. When I just see you or hear your voice I get well, but whenever you are away, I am sick again. Lady, my treatment has given you all the energy your body needs and enough strength to overcome all your disorders. Before, you had many problems and I was the remedy, but now you are cured and I have become the problem because you got addicted to the remedy. Dear
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E., wake up and dont put yourself in the position of the weak. You dont need others to give you sympathy or love. You are a strong woman. You have everything. Stand up on your feet and cast off your feelings of dependence and neediness. Today I am here, tomorrow I will not be in Britain anymore and you will not find me. You will find directly God and He will heal your pain and give you pure Love. She stared at me with disturbed and frustrated eyes, rejecting the reality that I was telling her. She sighed deeply and asked: Why will you leave England? What will your patients do without you? They will feel dejected! Your unique medical skills are extremely needed in this country because nobody can do what you are doing! The decision is not mine. I wanted to remain in England in order to help, free of charge, so many people like you. Hundreds of English citizens were my patients, among them were cabinet ministers, lords, members of parliament, princes, court judges, professors, doctors, writers, journalists... All of them wanted me to remain in this country, because I cured them from different chronic medical problems when the orthodox and alternative treatments failed to help them. My patients wrote letters to the Home Office and to the Department of Employment asking them to give me a work permit and to allow me to stay in England because they found that nobody has my unique medical skills. The reply of the Home Office was that I will be allowed to remain in the UK only if I could invest the sum of 200,000 pounds, otherwise I will be liable to deportation. I do not have that much money. I believe the Home Office rule is quite justified, and the time to return to my country, Lebanon, has come. Many poor people there also are in urgent need of my healing medical practice. Oh no, dont be stupid, you should not leave us and go to Lebanon. You belong here. There are so many here who love you. We will not let you leave us. Our life depends on you, the Lady answered me. She stood silent for a few seconds, then she said: Wait for a moment. She went to her bedroom, leaving me alone with a cup of tea. I was thinking, why was I telling the lady my story with the Home Office? What had she to do with all that? Never mind, I wanted to show her that the time had come to heal herself by herself and not to depend on me anymore. And as they say in my country, the wind does not always blow as the sailors wish. At any rate, I must do everything possible to make

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Lady E. take me out of her head and of her heart and to find herself. My telling her my story about leaving England may well do just that. Lady E. came back from her room. Her face was beaming with a big smile. Her walk was full of charm and joy. She came up to me, and presented me a cheque saying: This is for you to remain legally in England with us. Take it! This is my present to you for healing me. I am for you and you are for my country and for the world. I held the cheque and read what was written on it. It was a cheque for 200,000 pounds in my name. A tempting voice was telling me: Fantastic! Take it! Do it! You will be a rich and happy man. Suddenly, a storm of anger passed over me devastating all my egos idols of worldly pleasures and the healing Energy turned me to a crazy person. I took the check, tore it to pieces, threw it in the ladys face and shouted: Lady, I am not your gigolo! Take back your money! You cannot buy me. Lady E. was furious with me. Nobody before rejected her generosity and smashed so rudely her pride. All her adoration to me turned into an explosion of anger. And may be for the first time in her life anger overwhelmed her. She screamed hysterically and shouted at me kicking me out of her home and out of her heart. Out! Go away! Leave me alone! I am healed! I do not need you anymore for I have God! I ran out of her house, not knowing why I was mad at her. But I felt a great consolation in my heart and a great wealth worth more than millions of pounds fell down upon me from heaven, overwhelming me with a wonderful bliss. A few weeks later, before leaving definitively England, I met Lady E. accidentally in the street. She looked extremely well. She came up, looking at me as if I were a real saint. She apologized to me saying: I cannot express in words how you healed and changed my life. The shock that you did to me was God-sent! It opened my eyes, and suddenly I found that I had nobody near me to hold to, except God. All my fears and anxieties were swept away. The Universe became opened to me. Now, I have no more pain in my body and no more insomnia. I am a happy woman. I never feel alone anymore! Thank GOD, and thank you

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The girl was seducing me!

I was once invited by a priest to do a public spiritual healing group session in a London church. I usually accept any invitation that can be helpful to people and I dont mind anybody seeing me in the form that he likes on condition that his approach could be good for him and for humanity. And so I went to the church to carry out the healing group session. A young teenage girl came up to me. I was asked to lay my hands on her while the priest was praying. I closed my eyes and did as I was told, taking into consideration that medical researchers in England believe that the mere laying of my hands on the patient is sufficient to cure him, and I respect their belief. In the midst of the young girls session, people started to sigh, yawn and cry deliriously, thinking that the Holy Spirit had come upon them. Suddenly, the young girl became emotionally hysterical; she grasped my hand and violently tore my shirt and attacked me sexually, kissing my body and cried: I want you now! Let us have sex! I was extremely embarrassed, scared and not knowing what to do. My heart galloped. My stomach had a cramp of disgust. My breath stood still. My head was filled with alarm and confusion. I looked at the priest and the people around for salvation. They were applauding with joy to the atmosphere of my seduction, saying: Bravo! Bravo! Go on girl, good for you. Do I turned to the priest furiously and said: In the name of Christ and for Gods sake stop it. Stop all your stupidity, we are in church. Then I ran in the hall through the assistance who were all in frenzy to find the exit door. I slipped and my head hit the altar. I fell on my knees and, breathless, I saw Christ running out and away from the church before I fainted. The priest came after me and lifted me from the ground and said: What is the matter with you. You did an excellent healing work and what if the girl asked you in church to do sex with her? This is normal for us because she is a human being. What is wrong with that? Nothing! I believe that the only thing wrong is that you come from an eastern narrow-minded culture. Father, the girl was seducing me!

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No, she is innocent. Listen, you did for her a wonderful thing. She was a lesbian, and your treatment gave her a healing shock. Her emotional body was opened. Her nature was healed. For the first time in her life she was attracted sexually to a male. She projected miraculously that on you. Bravo! Bravo

The woman I raped

I was called one day to treat the back of a woman who is a famous karma psychotherapist who treats the past lives of her patients. She claims to be able to tell the story of every persons spirit incarnation. She does sessions telling who you were hundreds of years ago and where you lived. She believes that if your spirit had a trauma in one of its past lives, then the effect of the trauma could remain in your subconsciousness and you need to go to her for treatment. I visited the intuitive psychotherapist in her home to treat her back. When I entered her home, I noticed that she had a lot of English apprehension. When I expressed freely my compassion and said that I hoped to be able to cure her with my special skills of physical therapy, she got scared. I became enthusiastic to help her. I wanted to lay my hands on the painful areas of her body. She was phobic to any man touching her, being educated to repress her emotions as a well-behaved English person should do. Not even her parents touched her in her childhood to express their affection. She only knew one mans touch for sexual relations and this was her ex-husband. I tried to lay my hands on her in order to perform my physical therapy. She jumped up angrily with a phobic refusal to allow me to touch her, telling me not to invade her and not to touch zones of her body which are reserved to her husband. She threw on me all her past fears and screamed: Dont touch me and go away, you are the person who raped me in a past life when I was a princess in Babylon.

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An approach to cancer
A fifty-year old woman had breast cancer with pleural and bone metastasis. Doctors in the Hospital told her that she had only two more months to live, that is, until Christmas. Hearing that I could perform miracles, she hoped I could heal her. I visited her in her home in St. Johns Wood. She was a wise lady with a deep and mystic culture. I asked the lady what was her problem? My problem is cancer and the doctors say that Ill live till Christmas, she answered. Are your doctors prophets? Do they know what is in the mind of God? Are you sure that on Christmas of this year you will die? Yes, since the consultant who is the head of the department of oncology confirmed their diagnosis. If you are going to die so soon, then please tell me what will you lose? I shall lose seeing my children. Dont worry, your children will be happy after you pass away because you leave them a heritage and they will feel free to use it as they see fit. I dont know then, what I will lose. You see, you dont know! This means that you are not going to lose yourself, because, deep inside, you have the feeling of your eternal existence. But right now you are conditioned with fear and anxiety of losing yourself. When you die, your fear of dying would have been useless and will disappear and your anxieties would have been to no avail. I dont understand what you are saying, doctor. Tell me clearly when I die what do you think I will lose? You will lose your fears and anxieties! Then why wait to lose them when you are at your last breath. Lose them now and maybe you will not die. Heal your soul now from the negative emotions that come naturally, and then maybe you will accept death naturally as a Big Sleep. Give peace to your mind and tranquillity to your heart from all this worldly agitation. And then, maybe death will not be needed at Christmas to heal your spirit from the negativity of your human nature. Feel that life has created you not to lose you. Enjoy your life till Christmas as would a newborn child, and in the coming year we will see what would happen!
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The woman with cancer had convinced herself that she was dying and was unconsciously creating for herself a wish for death. After our conversation, her mind became unconditioned, her emotions peaceful and free, and her thoughts positive. Eventually, she underwent a revolution and healed herself and did not die on Christmas. And ever since she celebrated Christmas as a day of rebirth.

John Papworth, a priest in St. Johns church, a famous political writer and journalist, wrote about my medical healing the following testimonial after I helped his wife who was dying of Cancer: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: The above named came to this country after suffering a grim personal tragedy in his native Lebanon in which military action destroyed both his family and his home. Despite this loss his innate personal qualities enabled him very quickly to establish here a high reputation as a doctor possessing quite unique healing skills. I was able to see this at first hand since my wife was his patient for some months and responded with positive results where other doctors using more orthodox methods were unable to succeed. These skills derive as much from his medical training as from the spirit of gentleness, compassion and understanding he brings to bear in his work. In the two years I have known him I have learned of numerous examples of his healing powers and of the relief he has brought to those who suffer. I have no hesitations at all, and feel greatly privileged, in recommending him as a physician of exceptional integrity and devotion, and it is my ardent and widely shared wish that he may be allowed to continue to practice among us for many years to come. JANUARY 8TH 1995 JOHN PAPWORTH

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The healer of cancer was an Indian cow!

A young Indian lady who had cancer in her left breast came to see me in London. She refused to have a mastectomy and a silicon breast prosthesis. She wanted to have an alternative treatment. Taking in consideration her case and the genetic basis of the neoplasm, I advised her of the necessity of having first a surgical operation, radiotherapy and chemotherapy and then after that, I may be able help her. But the woman refused the oncological approaches because she had a phobia of the hospital treatment to cancer patients that lacks compassion. I tried to support the woman psychologically and to strengthen her spirit and to convince her at the same time that parallel to what I was doing to her, she must follow the medical orthodox treatments. After a few meetings with her, she got frustrated, left London and went to India. Nine months later, she rang me up from London. She wanted to meet me and tell me her latest news and because she appreciated the compassion and respect I had for her, she came back to see me. She entered my flat with a firm and confident step. She looked like a princess of the One Thousand and One Nights, full of joy and beauty. All the charm had returned to her body, calming her mind and moving her heart. I looked at her beautiful and glowing Indian face. The light of happiness and peace was dancing in her eyes. Thrilled on seeing her so well, I exclaimed: What a wonderful surprise to see you looking so well! I am cured of cancer. I am healed. I am again a happy woman! she said. She showed me her breast. I palpated it and found no sign of cancer! The tumor had disappeared naturally because she had no surgical cicatrices. But how was that? Extraordinary, my dear, tell me how did you manage that? I went to India to a holy and sacred place. There I met a cow, a holy cow or, if you wish, a therapeutic cow and it came to me and licked my tumor. The second day the tumor disappeared and the medical tests confirmed that. I thought: Are there any anticancer chemicals in the saliva of a cow or was the cow ruminating a certain plant having a curing effect on

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cancer before it licked the breast of the Indian young lady? At any rate, the healing process could not be that easy and spontaneous. Extremely happy for the young woman and marveling at her faith, I looked at her and said: Congratulations! Good for you, you deserve to be in perfect health. I appreciate your great faith! She replied: Doctor, you too must have a cow in your clinic, and you will see that with the cows help, you will be able to cure cancer! As a medical researcher I cannot accept the Indian ladys story in such an imperative way. Faith proved its effect in healing cancer, but faith is not a palpable matter and everybody sees it in his own way. Sometimes a positive shift in the patients consciousness is relative to a spontaneous remission from his cancer. It may be that in the case of the Indian woman the cancer cells committed suicide after receiving an order from their death genes. But why did this mass suicide happen to the Indian lady just when the cow licked her malignant tumor in her left breast? Was the cow a psychological support for her and renewed her hope in life. It may be that her healing process had no relation with the cow. I am inclined to think that her body rejected the cancer cells by the mechanism of a negative feedback that inhibited the action of the tumors growing gene. Puzzled, I am still trying to fathom the scientific mechanism behind the healing of the Indian lady in order to help my breast cancer patients. I will do my best to find the scientific explanation but if I fail, do not blame me if, one day, you enter my clinic to find a cow there

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My research about cancer

Two oncologists who were my colleagues in the medical school, questioned me to tell them how I healed their patient of cancer. I was surprised at their questions because I did not cure any patient of cancer. They told me the story of a woman called Mariana: Last month, Mariana came to the hospital for a general check up. We did a scanner for her abdomen. The result was that she had a tumor the size of an egg in her stomach. We carried a biopsy for the growth and the diagnosis was a melanoma. We appointed a stomach operation for her and that was last week. Mariana was admitted in the hospital for the operation. And before applying any surgery on her, we did another scanner for her stomach in order to see how the tumor was progressing. We were extremely astonished to find that the cancerous tumor which was in her stomach was not there anymore. It was gone, totally vanished. It is incredible, for Gods sake, tell us what has happened to Mariana? What healing miracle has happened to her and how such spontaneous curing could happen? We questioned Mariana, extremely curious to see how she was cured of cancer. Mariana replied that she met you in a Clujean caf called Croco and she asked you about her pain in her stomach and right shoulder. You put your hands on her pain and you said to her that her pain comes from her muscular stiffness. Then you promised her that she will be all right and you told her to be strong within herself and to be positive with her life. Who is Mariana? I never had a patient called Mariana and I have not treated any woman with cancer! I said. The woman is a peasant from the village of Coshbuc. She is in her fifties. She asked you just what was the cause of her pain because she did not know that she had cancer. I do not remember any woman in Crocos caf who asked me about her pain. Ten days ago, I was there with my friends, somewhat euphoric after a heavy drinking of vodka and talked to many people and she may have been one of them. But I do not remember meeting a peasant lady. I think that the lady is projecting her healing process on me. Maybe my image after a good drink of vodka inspired her how to heal herself. Do not be funny, we are searching for truth. The lady was cured of cancer. We do not know how. Believe us colleague! We will show
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you both scanner images and you will see that a spontaneous remission has happened to Mariana. Did you believe that Mariana shifted her consciousness towards a positive life and thus was cured of cancer. I do not know! Any way, let us pay a visit to Mariana in her home to study your psychological point of view in healing cancer patients. All right, let us do that. One of my colleagues replied. He was an oncologist and a medical researcher in the processes of cancer natural healing. My colleague and I traveled by train for two hours from Clujnapoca to the village of Coshbuc. We wanted to visit Mariana and to study everything about her life, what she eats, how she feels and thinks and how she carries her daily life activities etc. We were extremely curious and obsessed to find what was the secret behind Marianas healing process. We arrived to Marianas house in the afternoon. As we stepped in the house yard we heard a lovely and extremely compassionate womans voice coming from the garden behind the house. The voice was so warm, it thrilled us emotionally. It penetrated our hearts and moved tears of joy in our eyes. It seemed to us that compassionate voice was coming from the generous universe of healing. We heard the voice singing this song: You are my lady who serves me When I am hungry you feed me When I am alone you take my sorrow away Without you I can not live You wake me at dawn on the twitter of birds When Venus is saying to the night goodbye And the flowers and trees are yawning With joy for the sunlight And when the roses smile with drops of dew You wake up from the darkness of sleep To go together to the lily valley and daisy hill To shed our love on the breezy meadows. You are my lovely lady Who nourishes me from her body With the whiteness of life Your healing pure milk The remedy of my soul.
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Wake me up always and come with me up to the hill To the green life. You are my lady, you are the green of my life, Come my beloved to graze together the grass To spend our days with love in the fields. We are the first of the day who welcome the sun. We are the last of the day who say goodbye to the sun. We are the lovers of life. Oh my lady, I love you! For whom was this lady singing in such warm and healing words. I longed all my life to have somebody singing to me from the heart such a wonderful song. I felt so energized by the ladys song. I said: Colleague, let us go to the garden behind the house and see what is going on and ask about Mariana. We went to the garden and were surprised to see that it was Mariana who was singing cheerfully in such a lovely and compassionate voice. She was with her cow and all her beautiful words were addressed to her cow. She was deeply in love with her lady who nourishes her with milk. Mariana welcomed us cheerfully with a tremendous love energy that can raise the dead from the grave. We became like sweet children overwhelmed by her warmth. She invited us inside her house where we discussed with her different subjects in order to find how she overcame her cancer problem and found that she was an extremely positive lady with an infinite measure of compassion. She was so greatly capable of love as to be always living in a world of love. In the train, on our way back to Cluj I asked my colleague: And now, after our visit to Mariana, did you find what cured her of Cancer? It is very strange, I do not know. I was bewildered by her enormous vitality and positivism towards life. And you, what have you to say? he asked me. The woman who is capable to love her cow with such an intensity is also capable to love life till the energy of love heals her. Dear colleague tomorrow she will come to your clinic and say that the cow has cured her and not me.

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The healer of cancer was not me

An old woman was suffering from cancer and nobody told her the truth about her illness. She was prepared for an operation to remove her tumor. Doctors and her relatives did not tell anybody about her case for fear that if she will know the truth, she might brake down. Before going to the surgical operation, she came to my clinic to treat her back pain with my physical therapy. At the moment she entered my clinic, I was attracted by her energy, and was fascinated by her spiritual approach towards my treatment. Her face was full of light with warm and innocent pious looks. Her smiles were silent and compassionate. She was looking at me beaming with gratitude and interior peace. As soon as she started to describe her pain, I felt that there was no need to tell me anything about her medical problem because I thought that whatever can her illness be, it could be cured easily by me. I was convinced that a spiritual and lovely woman like her is not in need to be judged or reduced to the limitations of the orthodox medicine. Intuitively I felt that there was a little pain in her back and neck. I just did a five minute massage to her muscles and told her that she was healed and there was no need for her to come and visit me again because her medical diagnosis seemed to me just a little tension in her back muscles caused by physical tiredness. I did not listen to the old woman nor did I examine her. I felt that she did not have a real medical problem and I just I touched her muscles as a psychological support. The womans husband, who knew all about her case, but was not willing to tell anybody, even me, about her cancer problem, looked at me with skeptical eyes, convinced that I was not a serious physician but an ignorant and a charlatan. But I did not take his view in consideration because his wife, the old woman, was very happy with my spontaneous, simple, nave and unconditioned approach to her. A month later, the old woman came back to my clinic and I was told about her real medical story. But the most amazing thing was that, after her visit to my clinic, she went to the hospital to have the operation to remove the cancerous tumor from her body and no tumor was detected anymore. How? Who knows? And all the people who knew her case thought that I cured her. They conditioned their mind in such a way that, instead of their previous skepticism concerning me and their belief that I was a quack, they now projected me to a place beside God. It was funny how people perceive things. When they were telling the womans healing story from cancer, I was extremely amused because I
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knew how ignorant my medical approach to the woman was and how they innocently bragged about my skill. It was amazing how many believed that I had actually cured the woman from cancer and will not admit that my medically stupid approach to the woman was not what cured her. When they talked about me, I truly felt that they were confusing me with Somebody Else! Unfortunately, they could not contemplate the healing power of the Unseen. It was my bad luck that their short-sighted mind found me accidentally in their way. Never mind, I will detach myself from all this corrupted and narrow minded thinking that builds images for human beings. It is enough that the spiritual old woman was healed of cancer.

My healing work in the imagination of Joe Link and his wife Mary Lutyens
Joe Link, a Jewish well known English writer and a businessman with the honorable title of the British Empire (O.B.E), married Mary Lutyens. Mary Lutyens is a famous contemporary English novelist and writer of books about the celebrated spiritual teacher Christian Matte. Her family descends from Cromwell and Lord Byron. Her father was the famous architect who built New Delhi and her sister Elizabeth was a renowned English musician. Joe Link had cancer in his seventies, a melanoma of retina which blinded one of his eyes. I met him when he was in his nineties and was a guest for two years in his London house. At age of ninety one, Joe had a growth which obstructed his bile duct and caused him a severe icter mechanic. An endoscopy was done for his bile duct and he was sent home. His body became weak and slim and the physicians told his family that in the coming two weeks he would die. Hearing the news, I went to Joes bedroom and found him lying in bed, weak, depressed and pale, and surrounded by the women members of his family. They were projecting all their emotions on poor Joe in continuous lamentations thereby depressing and weakening him even more. When I saw the feminine emotional energy depressing Joe and taking from him his confidence and challenge of life, I blew up, saying: Ladies what are you doing here? Are you burying Joe by your stupid anxieties while he is still alive? Leave him in peace and go and cry on yourself. Joe will soon recuperate. I will cure him and he will go back
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to his normal daily activities. Please go with your worries and find a wall to wail and cry all you want. Joe has as much patience, faith and love of life as the Prophet Job. A silence fell upon Joes bedroom and peace returned to Joe and his wife Mary. I got inspired how to treat Joe with vitamins and bio-energy. I carried a session of healing upon him that enlightened all the household with a powerful spirit of Hope. Joe was cured and he lived well for three more years. He wrote the following testimonial about my medical work: Having heard several accounts of the beneficial effects of his treatment in differing circumstances, I consulted him after an endoscopy procedure in the bile duct. I was suffering from extreme weakness and swelling of the legs which my doctor was unable to alleviate, nor did he hold out much prospect of improvement. Dr. Daoud used a combination of physical medicine and healing which had dramatic and lasting effects for which I am deeply grateful to him. I have more recently witnessed his treatment of my wifes right shoulder with equal success. There can be no doubt, to my mind, that Dr Daoud has great experience and rare, if not unique, power to help sufferers from various ailments where orthodox medicine fails. Dr Daoud has a great deal to offer for humanity. He is a man of high character and motivation. J. G. LINKS

Mary Lutyens (Mrs. J. G. LINK) described my healing effects on her I was left with no sense of security and my nervous condition affected my sleep. I was then recommended to consult Dr. Daoud and after one treatment my confidence was completely restored and so it remains. What he did for me was amazing and I should be devastated if he was not available to help me. Mary Lutyens After Joe entered back again the door of life instead of crossing the gate of death, I was extremely interested to know what is his attitude towards life:

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What is the most beautiful decade you felt in your life? I asked Joe. It was between age eighty and ninety, he replied. How is that, knowing that you became old and your life was threatened with cancer and you had already lost vision in one eye. Never mind, I had no fear of death because I always lived within myself the endless existence of the human universe. This dimension could not be described with words or limited in time. Every period of my life has its beauty. In my eighties I became like a newborn child with wisdom. My life became a natural meditation. I became free of all the worldly addictive conditioning. I was more creative than before because the climax of creativity is to find yourself in truth. In my eighties my imagination became a real world well beyond my feeble body. I looked around me and saw Mary Lutyens smiling with the romantic love and innocence of the lovers in one of her novels. I asked her: Mary, what do you think about Joes positive attitude? Oh yes, Joe was always funny, he lives in too much imagination but on the other hand he is a very practical man, with his feet firmly on the ground. I also enjoy my own imagination. If a man misses his imagination, he will see himself only as a heap of flesh and becomes like a frustrated animal. Zvetlana Stalin the daughter of the Russian dictator told me when she escaped from the tyranny of her father and came to live in London: I ran away from my cruel father, I would not like even his imagination to see me anymore, When Joe and I met, we were as romantic as we are now because we loved each other in a world full of imagination. And tomorrow when we leave this world we hope that we will remain somehow in the imagination of our children.

The woman with a breast lump

A woman visited me to treat a lump in one of her breasts. She was anxious about her medical case because one of the physicians told her that she might have cancer. He asked her to do a biopsy for her lump and to prepare herself for a surgical operation (a mastectomy). I examined the womans breast and told her that I could easily solve her case. I did a healing massage for the lump and in one session of

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twenty minutes her breast was cured. The woman was excited with my unique medical skills. Thinking that I could help many people in England, she introduced me and my healing skills to many people in the English society. Many were cabinet ministers, lords, court judges etc. She introduced me especially to an extraordinary family called Hatvany.

The woman with breast cancer

The Hatvanys welcomed me in their big home in central London. They saw what good healing work I can do for the people. They opened their big house for many patients from different countries, dedicating themselves to helping the poor and healing the sufferers, they invited me as well as many poor patients from different countries to stay graciously in their home in order to help them with my healing giftThe Spirit of healing through me became more effective with the support of the Hatvany compassion. A young woman with breast cancer called Tina was invited from Greece to stay with her daughter in the Hatvany healing home in order to be treated. She was somewhat in her terminal state of illness Two years ago, her husband died of cancer. This woman was extraordinary. She was extremely wise and compassionate with a great genuine spirituality. She wished in her childhood to devote herself to helping others. When her husband died of cancer she resolved to spend her life in the golgotha of healing the world and developed cancer. She saw in her disease a cross she has to carry in order to bring many sufferers to God. Her cross was heavy. During my healing work on Tina which lasted for more than five years, we developed a great friendship and I learnt a lot about the deep meanings of life. She was full of gratitude to me. When we met in Athens for the last time, she said: I am grateful to God for having cancer. I am grateful for all the treatment you have given me. My illness was great, it inspired me to seek a way to be cured and determined me to go to London to meet you, my Guardian Angel. Cancer told me how to heal my soul and to love life beyond my ephemeral body. My illness taught to surrender and so to feel happy and eternal. I now bid you goodbye, for this is the last time we meet on this earth. My time will soon be up and I will have to leave. The Angel is waiting for me

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The Healer of cancer was an Angel

She met me and was in a terrible state. She had a cancer of the breast and was towards a terminal state of metastasis. She chose me to help her against my will. She felt that I was a healer sent to her from God. In the beginning she asked me to help her and I refused. I said to her: Lady, I do not treat cancer patients. I am not God! I feel that you are sent to me from God not to heal my body but to enlighten my heart with eternal peace. Lady, I cannot because I am a simple physician and in this human world I see no peace! Yes, you are a human being devoted to share with others their pain. I see light in your eyes. Please, let your light come to me. Please, do not hide it because the light is not yours. It is given to you from above in order to shine on others. Come near to me, I thirst for your healing light. I had enough darkness throughout my life. I came close to her as she was lying in bed. I felt that she will soon die and that there was nothing I could do to prevent that. I laid my hands on her weak and slim body and my heart sank with pain and prayed silently in tears for her healing. I left her room feeling that her cancer had already spread to me and I went into spiritual solitude, fasting and praying for her. And, the next night at dawn, I dreamt that the lady had died. I woke up from sleep with hot tears on my pillow and I went to the hospital where she was. I entered her room and I did not find the lady. My heart jumped up because the lady could not move from her bed. Oh, my God it is true the lovely lady died! I wanted to cry and lament on her, but, being her physician I may not, for it is not permitted to shed tears over your patients. I rushed downstairs to the hospitals mortuary and fell down fainting between the corpses. An interior voice shouted to me: Wake up, you are a doctor, if somebody will see you in such a sentimental situation, he will judge you that you are emotionally involved with your patient. I raised myself from the floor and looked around; the body of the lady was not there. I went upstairs to her room. In the corridor, my eyes noticed her passing by, wearing a white robe. Is she come back to life or is this a ghost? My heart started to gallop and I rushed to her room. I found her sitting at the edge of the bed. Are you still alive, are you all right? At first, she did not answer. I looked at her face and found it rosy like that of a

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healthy teenager. Her eyes were bright. Her smile was bright. Her body did not look flabby and weak anymore. She was looking fantastic! Oh my God, is this the same lady who was sick? Yes, and she is back to her normal health! She smiled at me with gratitude and said: Do not worry about me anymore! I am cured of cancer. With your help God has healed me. Look at me, examine me, I am cured! Extraordinary, wonderful, you look very well! You are well. It is true that you are healed! OH MY LORD GLORIFIED BE THY NAME! With tears of joy the lady danced about blissfully in the room and told me the story of the healing miracle: Yesterday, after you left me, I felt peace in my heart and was no more afraid of dying. At four oclock in the morning, I felt that I could not breath and that my last hour had come. I looked around for help, but nobody was near. I was alone. Even the night nurses were sleeping. I cried for God to help me, I cried and cried until my hot tears flowed like blood on my cheeks. At the last moment, while I was dying, I surrendered myself. Suddenly, an angel shining brightly entered my room. I stretched myself with all my wretchedness to catch him. As soon as the Angels light fell on me, I felt that death was parting and heard a divine voice saying: I AM HERE, WITH YOU, GO BACK TO YOUR NORMAL LIFE AND AT YOUR BIRTHDAY NEXT YEAR, I WILL COME BACK FOR YOU AND INVITE YOU TO COME WITH ME AS A GUEST TO YOUR ETERNAL HOME. I woke up from my clinical death and found myself a newborn. I am now a very happy woman. I fell in deep love with my Angel. My love to him cannot be described in words. I miss profoundly my heavenly lover. I regret, not going with him. But now, I shall wait impatiently a year till my Next Meeting. I think that God wanted me more to be his servant like you and many others. I will tell others my story in order to inspire them of the unending beauty of their lives. Many will think I have a religious delirium, others will think I am expressing a death wish in a mystic way. But I know how much I long to meet my divine Lover next year. The lady was cured from her cancer. Her life had changed, for a year she lived between many of us as an angel in flesh. She inspired many with her faith and compassion. And one day at her birthday, having invited her friends to a party, she said:

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Tomorrow, you will ask about me and you will not find me again with you. You will miss me. I will be in other World with my Angel living in eternal love and happiness. My Angel is waiting for me in the morning at four oclock. Be happy for me. I will be in my eternal home to live forever and to tell my Heavenly Father about your good deeds. We did not understand what the lady was saying. We thought that she was drunk with euphoria due to too much champagne. We laughed saying to her how lovely and simpatico she is. The second day we missed our great lady. We went to her room and found her lying in a Big Sleep with a serene smile on her face like a bride dreaming in heaven. At first I wept that I missed her but then I remembered that she went with her everlasting divine journey with her holy lover The Healing Angel of our human nature. Whatever was the situation I missed my friend. I saw myself in her situation and addressed her this poem: Silencing Serenity To me you send A crystalline purity Waves without end Wafting on my altar A prelude to death A silence of forever In cosmos and earth. In peace I surrender Myself in your clay When my time is under The mercy of that day. When my bell will ring In silence and fright I will become a wing In the Serene Light.

Exorcism to cancer

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Frustrated and agitated by the cruel pathology of cancer, I lived the metastasis tragedy of some of my friends so intimately that I felt their cancer disease growing in me. Finding that the approach of medicine cannot express my feelings, my frustrated heart wanted to speak to the cancerous cell that has become a part of me, hoping it can listen to my human pain. I meditated on my state saying: Tell me please, I want you to tell Me, please, my dear malign cell What is your stress and what hell Stirred your order in crazy rebel? Is it a blind factor of a mutagen Or a tiny unseen diabolic siren That seduced your genetic code In such macabre chaotic mode? Why frenetic, crazy, you became, Metastasis invader, death flame? Killing sadistic neighboring cells Burning my life in painful hells! Are you from my negative mind Created physiologically blind? Are you a virus coming from hell From paradise after the Devil fell? Please, with myself communicate, Stop it and please do not duplicate! In your place, in peace please stay Avoiding me metastasis fatal way! Are you for me my dear cancer cell Ringing somehow for my life a bell? To understand what deeply you say

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About myself in the light of my day? I promise you with faith and no fear In deep love I will face you my dear To heal myself by changing my mind Facing God and not anymore blind. From Him Ill receive healing cure Again Ill be well and become pure!

The mouse that killed the cat

Jack, a 45 year old man, came to me for treatment. He was walking with great difficulty, supporting himself on a pair of crutches in order to maintain his balance. He produced all his medical files. No significant pathology was noticed in the magnetic resonance image of his brain and spine. I examined him and observed a weakness in the muscles of both legs and more so in the right one. I noticed a diminution in the reflexes of the lower limbs and a clear unbalanced walk. His locomotive system was not functioning properly. His symptoms and signs showed a syndrome of multiple sclerosis (MS). I started to treat Jack applying all my techniques of manual physical therapy, ranging from massage, pressure puncture, unto energetic manipulations. I wanted to stimulate the flow of life energy in the muscles and nerves of his legs. After every ten minutes of treatment, I asked Jack to walk in order to see if he is responding positively to my therapy. I was using all my energy and compassion in order to inspire Jack to be confident in himself and to walk without aid. But Jack was a difficult patient. His heart was not open to receive any healing energy. He was hesitant to try walking without crutches. His defense mechanism was: I am the same, I am not better, I need always to hold on to something,

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otherwise I will fall. I asked Jack to come for other sessions of treatment with a positive attitude towards himself if he wants me to help him. After three therapeutic sessions Jack still felt that he had no improvement. He firmly believed that his case is incurable. I examined his muscles, they were much better than before. I looked deeply into Jacks eyes and my intuition told me that a deep depression is unconsciously closing his heart to Hope. It seemed to me that in Jacks consciousness there was an obstruction in the channels between him and his Creator. He was angry against God because he could not walk well and enjoy the pleasures of life. It may be he that he has not reached the level of Faith that heals. On the other hand, Jack was socially a very good person; a frustrated, but a nice man. Throughout his life he had repressed his emotions, avoiding causing annoyance to anybody. But he had not enough confidence in himself to allow his mask to fall and to reject his fear and let Life take its course After four therapeutic sessions to Jack I realized that my treatment had no effect, but his suffering continued to challenge me. I wanted so much to comfort him. During a treatment session, a strong fire flared in my heart and at the top of my voice I yelled at him: You are a polite and nice man Jack, but you are incapable of expressing your feelings and exteriorizing your emotions. You are a good man who is devastated inside. What are you saying? I, ruined inside? How is that? You are afraid to face the wilderness or the emptiness inside you in order to receive Faith. Explain yourself in clearer terms. Long ago, man lived free in the wilderness. Nature cured him of all his diseases. His life was natural, wild and pure and without hypocrisy. As always, man was not satisfied with his life. Instead of civilizing his nature on the scales of divinity, he created a false civilization built only on the concepts of prosperity. He built a materialistic system and conditioned himself on it. Consequently, he jailed himself in a modern zoo full of luxuries and comfort to which he got addicted, and his life became artificial. Due to that he became a materialistic being and lost his spiritual beauty. Unhealthy machinery and the physical systems he invented dominated him. The stress of corruption in his nature created diseases, especially in those who lost their spiritual roots and became unable to love their neighbors.

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Nowadays, from the bars of the prison of our modern systems, we crave for the pure wilderness in which we were before. We want to retrieve what we lost, but we refuse to go back to our springs, because we will lose the materialistic pleasures by which we are conditioned and to which we are addicted. Sometimes we prefer to have the disease rather than lose our addiction to the worldly things in which we trapped ourselves. Why are you hammering my mind with your philosophy of primitivism? What has my disease to do with that? Jack, dont be afraid of the wilderness. One day you will wake in the morning and all this jail of financial markets, bank systems and the materialistic idols of this world will collapse. Man will wake up in a bare nature and what will he do if he is dead inside and surviving just by worshipping his money-god? When all the currency is gone, he might well throw himself from the balcony and fall dead alongside the material systems. Isnt that what you are Jack? Jack did not answer, and I continued to provoke him. Jack if you are in the wilderness what you will see? Doctor, why you are asking me such absurd questions about the desert, during the session of treatment? Why instead, dont you ask me about my medical case? Please listen to me Jack! In the desert, you do not meet the charm of a beautiful and sensual woman. You dont have the abundance of food and luxuries. You see there only the emptiness of the world surrounding you. Jack, in the wilderness or the desert, you are in emptiness, then to whom will you appeal in order to survive? I dont know. I never lived in a desert. If I ever will be stranded in a desert, I will call upon God to help me. Good, Jack, when everything around you is empty and meaningless then you will find a meaning within you in order to survive. In the desert there is no prosperity, no systems of pleasure, no social activities etc. At first, you feel humiliated, because you cannot do the activities and enjoy the pleasures to which you are addicted. Then your only choice for surviving is to nourish yourself only with the energy of your spirit till you find unconditioned happiness within you. Jack, your sickness has humiliated you. You cannot walk properly, you cannot enjoy your activities and pleasures like before, hence you are in a desert within yourself. Open your heart and face yourself, and tell me Jack if you are really happy inside? Sincerely, I am not!
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Then be happy because you must be happy. Love life even if you are frustrated with your MS. Love life beyond your problems and life will love you even beyond all conditions. How can I do what you are saying, by love? Love is unconditioned. Look at the love of a mother to her child, how she offers herself completely to take care of him. The more the child torments her, the more she is attached to him. Jack, you must think on this same principle. If you feel that life is unfair to you, love it in spite of all its shortcomings. Love your own life and the lives of others. Take care of your life and it will take care of you because you are the most important part of it Do what I am saying, without worrying about your possessions and position, and I am sure that healing or universal compassion will cure you of all your disorders. Jack did not like what I was saying. I cannot blame him, for he grew up in America and England in a very rich family of diplomats. He is an intellectual person, educated on strict and immovable lines. He was taught to control his emotions and not to express his feelings as a special person is supposed to do. His personality became passive because his parents left him all the money and luxury he could hope for. He was not obliged to struggle for his livelihood. He lived his life extremely conditioned by the London aristocratic etiquette. He tasted so many pleasures, that he became fed up with everything. He lost all excitement and passion for creating or doing something. He became unable to be in touch with his deep feelings. It seemed to me that Jack was repressing in his heart a lot of grief, anger and fear of losing his mask. The flame of his spirit is in danger of extinction. All these conditions have perhaps created in him an unconscious depression, and it is the main cause of his illness. Jack, I said, can you help me? Please open your heart and tell me what is the cause of your frustrations? I live a very good life, but only the MS is the problem. I feel that tomorrow will be black for me. Very soon I will be on a wheel chair. You are not a victim of MS, and the multiple sclerosis is not a monster. The disease is just a mask under which you hide an unconscious fear, anxiety and repressed anger. You are extremely conditioned by a materialistic and technological world that has brought to mankind a great stress. The democratic system built only on the financial market basis, having lost its verticality has brought a negative stress to every individual. It has obstructed the channels between man and the universe, between one individual and the other and between our mind, our heart and our body.
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Jack expected that my hands, upon touching him would heal him, as if by magic, and he spontaneously would be able to walk. But healing never works this way, and life is not a circus of magicians. The fact is that healing can happen only when our consciousness gets opened to the unique Truth in our life. Jack stared at me and said: I came to you to treat my weak legs and not to give me a lecture to the effect that my problem is caused by the materialistic political systems. I cannot treat your leg separately from your mind. You need to be healed as an individual, but also as a part of your community and of the Universe. I want to find, through curing your problem, the happiness and light in your own existence and in the existence of others. Wake up Jack and be free and take full advantage of your right to life. Be free as befits a human being created on the model of God! Jack looked at me with a strange look and said: You are not a real doctor. You are not a healer. You are a primitive man obsessed against civilization. You talk like a priest. What you are saying is nonsense. Be careful, if you are a medical doctor then do not go beyond the limits of your profession and my body. Can you treat my leg or not? It is stupid to claim that I am limping because of the corruption of the political and economical systems! Dear Jack, listen to me, I am not judging anybody or any system. I am neither condemning you nor showing you sympathy. You are not guilty. You are an honest and innocent man. We live as the world educated us, but inside us there is a darkness that comes from this world and it can be the cause of many diseases. Our duty towards life is to get rid of this negativity, and by the power of love, to heal ourselves. By this way we become healthy individuals capable of creating a healthy community and a healthy world communicative system Jack became silent and started to listen to me. Something is opening up in him. He is getting inspired. A twinkle of light started to appear in his eyes. I hugged him and then started to touch all his body with my hands while he was lying on the osteopathic table in my clinic. With all my burning compassion, I looked at him as a helpless human being and as a child, afraid of losing his mask. I thought: If Jacks legs are cured, would he be able to walk without crutches? Would he liberate himself of the fear in his unconscious mind? Will he regain his selfconfidence in order to get his natural balance in walking?

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I felt that a healing process was going to happen to Jack. While I was doing his session of physical therapy, he smiled and asked me to tell him more stories that could be helpful to him. I will tell you, the story of the cat who became ill with multiple sclerosis because of the conditions of our modern prosperity. You are funny. I am ready to listen. But dont forget to massage my toe, to put your warm hands on my back and to give me some of your healing energy while you are talking. Okay, I will do that! Once upon a time there was a cat that grew up in luxury and prosperous conditions with a rich, aristocratic Parisian family. Is it a Brigitte Bardot cat? No. It is a modern world cat trained to be nice, beautiful, polite and gentle. It was conditioned and disciplined like a charming and attractive member of the family. The cat learned how to repress its emotions, to wash itself in the bath and to go to the toilet. It was beautiful like a tableau. But it was depressed because its nature became corrupted and perverse. It got fat and her walking was slow as that of an MS patient. The cat had servants to bring to it its food. It did not need to hunt for its food. At the end it lost its natural instincts and drives. It became an artificial being extremely tame and conditioned by our educational systems. One day a wild mouse came from the garden and entered the living room where it met the cat. The cat, having lost its nature, forgot how to hunt and kill the mouse. It became peaceful, apathetic and senile. It treated the mouse in a funny way just playing softly with it. At the end, the mouse bit the cat and ran away. The feline was poisoned with a tetanus infection and died at the veterinary hospital. Poor cat Poor cat cried Jack. Poor us, if we become cats in our modern systems! said I. Finally, Jack became tired and angry at my stories. After listening to me for more than an hour, he was fed up. From the beginning, he wanted me to treat his case in silence, and not to bombard his mind with my yarns like a fanatic guru. Jack jumped up from under my hand, fiery with anger for the first time in his life, and walked away from the room. In his rage, he forgot to pick up his crutches. He went outside shouting: I do not need your help anymore, I am not sick.

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I followed him full of satisfaction because all his repressed anger and tension came out for the first time in his life and determined him to walk without crutches. Thank you Jack, I said. I am happy that you do not need me anymore. Please take your sticks with you for I have no need for them! Oh! Fantastic, amazing, I am cured, I am walking without any help. What has happened? asked Jack.

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My political projections
Tim visited me in my clinic. His problem was hypertension and mild diabetes caused by stress. It seems that he has always been under severe stress. He was an officer in the British army. He came to me to heal him from his health disorders. But how? He may be, I thought, under an emotional stress that is causing these health problems. As a matter of fact, an anxiety, a suppressed anger, can cause an involuntary spasm to the netted muscular arteries and bring about a dysfunction of the neuroendocrine system. Consequently, I need to make Tim feel at peace in his soul and to regard matters in their proper dimension. This means that I must first relax his tense muscles in order to have his body relaxed, thereby reducing his blood pressure and the stress in his mind. If this healing technique fails, I must revert to discover the origin of Tims stress as far back as childhood and see if I can remove his psychological tension. I carried out three sessions of healing and muscular relaxation on Tim, examining the blood pressure before and after an hour of physical treatment. I noticed that, at the end of every session, the blood pressure went down by forty millimeters Hg. But the next day it was high again. This made me realize that a physical treatment was not enough for Tim and that his blood pressure was not only due to a somatic disorder. I became sure that a psychological stress was behind all the symptoms. But could I detect it? I had to understand how Tim was raised, what difficulties he encountered in his life and what were his present problems. I liked Tim. He was a good English gentleman, very correct and lovable. We became good friends. He came to trust me fully and admired my medical work on him. I succeeded in obtaining a good communication with Tim that was bound to be helpful in his healing process. You strongly control your emotions and repress your feelings. Is this inherent to your education? Yes of course, said Tim. When I was a child I was educated in our boarding public boys schools, how to be English. I was allowed to see my parents only once a year. I was not to be hugged or kissed by my father or mother, nor was I permitted to cry or to show my emotions and express my feelings. I was conditioned always to be English, implying that I am a special person and hence must look always more civilized and
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superior to others. This Victorian age education was designed to discipline and train every person from childhood to be ready to enter the Army or the Administration of the Colonies. Such a tough schooling was needed to prepare the English gentry to govern the British Empire. The woman, on the other hand, was educated to feel more emotionally free than the man, to administer the home and to take her place in the English community especially when her husband goes to war or to govern the colonies. Tim you lived in England under these conditions and was an officer in Africa, but tell me how was your life overseas? I was my own boss in the black continent. Nobody could overrule me. I had what I desired because my position gave me a free hand to choose my way of life. I felt good in our colonies. My life was a hundred times better overseas than here where my wife would rule me. Many of my colleagues in the British army felt the same. When you left the army and returned home to live with your family, how was your situation at home? It was awful! Unable to communicate with my wife, I divorced her. Now I live with my only son. He is a good student in Oxford, but I cannot communicate with him because he is schizophrenic. He is my enemy. Last night he wanted to kill me. I understand from you that your main problem is the suppression of your emotions since childhood and the lack of communication in your family. Please doctor, dont try psychotherapy or psychoanalysis on me. I know all that you are going to tell me. My past life has no relation with my hypertension and diabetes. Listen to me and I will tell you more about myself! Many specialists tried to treat my case on the basis of stress. They thought that my imperialistic education was the cause. I healed myself by meditation, having fun and not taking things too seriously. I came to accept things in my life as they are, and to perceive myself as a simple human being and not as an English commander. I started to live the present and not to worry about tomorrow . I became self-confident. I educated myself to air my feelings and to express my thoughts in the intimacy of my being. I created for myself many hobbies, especially relaxant sports like swimming, playing tennis and skiing. I followed a Mediterranean light regime of food and a calm style of life. I had a big shift in my consciousness but my blood pressure remained high and the diabetes remained uncured.
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Dont you think that the stress produced by an unconditioned reflex in your subconscious and in your vegetative, neurological endocrine system is the cause of your illness? This reflex is a negative feedback due to the psychological insecurity, training and rigid imperialistic thinking in which you grew? No, I dont believe so, because stress is a general term that varies from one individual to another. On the contrary, my life in the British colonies helped me by releasing a lot of my emotional tension and frustrations. For sure, you felt good in ruling other countries, because you were prepared for that. What you were not allowed to have in England was given you in the countries under your occupation. But when you returned home to live with your family and found that you cannot order about your son and your wife in order to satisfy your dominating thoughts, you became frustrated by discovering that you could not dominate your family like you dominated the naive African people. Such lack of communication with your family was extremely stressful, and that is why it ended in a divorce with your wife and your sons antagonism. Look Tim I do not blame you for all that. Indeed, this is now a big problem in the majority of English families. When the Victorian imperialistic mentality lost its colonies, it returned back to England, determined to exercise that role in the English society. Some parents continued to educate their children in the old imperialistic way. Most of the young generation in this country hates their parents dominating ways. They rebel against their fathers. They refuse the traditional educational methods of their society. Many confront the conservative imperial mentality with aggression and are considered schizophrenic. The present English mentality must be changed in order to communicate compassionately with the coming generation, otherwise the civilization of Great Britain would eventually collapse. I know what you mean. And in fact, the imperial thinking has vanished from English minds and its roots have gone from our society. Be wise, doctor, and do not throw your medical projections on other nations in order to feed your unusual medical theories. I am not throwing anything nor advancing any political affirmation against any system or nation. All that interests me in this discussion is to express my burning love for the salvation of the human being and his civilization. If we do not join together in order to heal our nations then we will not be able to heal ourselves. You are right to say that the colonial imperialism has gone, but the Empire of financial markets
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that are even more deadly to the human soul and imperil human values has replaced it. The horizon is now covered with apocalyptic clouds of the diabolic empire of money. It will create wars, violence and terrorism, not only between countries and the various Mafia groups, but also under every roof. Tim, believe me, in the coming ten years stress diseases caused by the systems we just mentioned will be collectively felt by most of the worlds population. There will be abundance in malignancies, viruses, fatal biological weapons invented by mankind against mankind, and a sudden death syndrome. In the coming years, who will resist to this global stress till the end? Perhaps nobody or only people whose deeds and suffering will bring them nearer to God, by freeing them from the materialistic negative effect of the worlds corruption and by reorienting their relations towards a system of love Do not exaggerate the situation to impress others with your ideas. Do not be like some on todays media that concentrate only on negative news in order to provoke scandals instead of looking to the positive sides in the individuals and the community in order to create compassion and enlightening. I believe that everything in the world tends towards the general good. I think that today, with the progress of technology and means of communication, we have become more aware of our planet and community than ever before. At any rate, Tim, I enjoyed discussing different subjects on a worldly scale with you. I see the human being as a global and universal existence and not as a biological system separate from his environment. Healing the individual is the gateway to healing humanity and viceversa. Nevertheless, my health problems have nothing to do with stress. And my life in the British colonies has nothing to do with my diabetes and hypertension. The divorce with my wife did not affect me at all, nor am I responsible for the schizophrenic behavior of my son. I was aware of the need to communicate with my son. I did not behave with him as a ruler or an army officer, and was not authoritarian and tough with him. I never tried to force upon him anything or to dominate him in any way. Maybe my sons problem taught me how to love him as a good friend and not as an authoritarian father. Therefore, please doctor, I listened to all your holistic speech about my case. Your social medical thinking does not apply to me. Because before I met you, I managed my stress as would a completely open-minded person and at the end my medical case remained the same as before. Consequently, I want you, Daoud, to perform from now on your
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sessions by laying your hands on my body without talking at all during the treatment. Because you can help only with applying your healing gift or energy which comes through your warm hands that alone can cure my diseases. I did as Tim asked me. And after three sessions of my healing hands done with silence, he was cured of diabetes and hypertension. He felt peace and happiness and was full of love. He became an extremely compassionate man. One day he met with his son and was able to communicate with him and show him love. Tim hugged him, and his son was cured of schizophrenia.

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The prodigal X, a war criminal, had migraine. He was the leader of a military
group when his country was floundering in civil war. He heard about me and asked me to visit him in order to cure his severe headache. I examined his case and found it very difficult to communicate with him. He was extremely tense. His shoulder and neck muscles were in severe spasm. He could not relax in order to allow my therapy to work on him. He was not humble and had no trust in the power of healing. How then could I help him? I thought that God may want to humiliate him in order to have his spirit healed from cruelty. His attacks of pain were extremely severe. Every week he had three days of agony. He had to close himself in a dark room and not see anybody till his migraine crisis left him. His case was rebel to any treatment. X was my most difficult patient. I had to face his negative sadistic mentality with all my medical skill in order to cast the demons from his mind and do away with their negative stress, and thereafter encourage him to seek the forgiveness of God, before he could relax and my therapy could work. My medical approach to a war criminal was very determining: I had to be his healing mentor and make him see the human side in his life. I had to confront him with the sword of love and wait for results Addressing him with confidence, I said: Do not kill yourself, leave the war and its hell; its stress will devastate you. Go and live with your family in peace, otherwise your life will be in danger. Threats are attacking you from every side, creating in you a tremendous anxiety that provokes your migraine. The warmonger met my words with fear and respect, because no one before me approached him with such a language of compassion and authority. He was a tyrant and people were afraid to expose to him his human reality frankly. People followed him out of fear and his terrorist nature dominated his entourage. I tried hard to help him during the time he was involved in the violence of his countrys civil war, but failed to change anything. He was not ready for healing. Perhaps the painful attacks of migraine were necessary to paralyze his thoughts and to cut him down to size and

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prevent him from more evil doings. I sent him my message without heeding his reaction and left his country and came to London. Four years, later, I accidentally met with X. in one of the streets of a European capital, where he was living as a political refugee. When he saw me, he wept hysterically as he told me his sad story. He lost everything: his home was burnt, his wife and young daughter were murdered and he miraculously escaped with his life. His feeling of guilt ruined him. He looked a wretched, miserable, helpless and lonely man. He had become a nobody, wandering in the streets of a foreign city, scared of his shadow and feeling in his heart the fire of hell. He stood before me, crying like a possessed man whose evil doings will not leave him. He wanted salvation. His migraine was still whipping his brain every day. He wanted Gods forgiveness, but does God in our days forgive evil politicians? I do not know! He knelt before me as a beggar. He wanted me to lead him and relieve his pain. I tried to escape from him and not to shake his hand stained with the blood of innocents. I did not want to hear more of his dangerous thoughts. But, he confessed like a completely ruined child crying: I am the person who should have been killed, not my innocent young daughter and wife. Please kill me doctor or take my pain away. I was exploited, abused and blackmailed by evil powers. They dragged me in my countrys dirty civil war. They used me. I was a totally ignorant and stupid man. Do not expect any help from me. I cannot judge or advise you anymore. All that I can do is try again to heal you from your migraine by putting my hands on you and pray our Lord to show you mercy. In a session of deep silence and prayer, I laid my healing hands on X. His migraine was gone. I felt that the time of his healing had come. The war criminal was healed, but who will heal the world from war and crime? Could our modern financial system do that by diverting their investments towards peace and light?

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The Misjudgement
A Sheikh, ruler of a certain small state was always feeling exhausted and tense. He had insomnia. He had no energy and found it extremely difficult to concentrate on his work and to show care or love to anyone. He became embarrassed towards others and even towards himself. He unconsciously projected his tense behavior on his political concerns, and his regime suffered. I was asked to go and help the Sheikh by relieving some of his tension. Many people advised me not to go. But I did and visited him in his grand palace. At first he rejected my help but soon became like a child seeking his fathers help. I examined his case and diagnosed a strong spasm of muscles on the upper cervical region of his neck. The stiff muscles were hindering the blood circulation towards the brain. The encephalon was not receiving from the blood all the vital energy it needed. This syndrome is a kind of energetic obstruction that creates a state of depression, nervous agitation, multiple fatigue and states of anxiety. His case was a stress syndrome in which the person feels drained of energy. How then, this being the case, could the Sheikh give his people the attention required of him? I observed, on the other hand, that the Sheikh was a very nice man with a naturally good spirit. For two years, he was a generous and energetic ruler. But now his people have turned away from him. He became more closed within himself. I noticed that the Sheikhs problem was a completely functional, physical and energetic disorder. He had a somatic and psychological problem determined by stress. I relaxed the muscles of his neck and stimulated the flow of blood and energy to his head. He felt light in his body and not lazy anymore. He became full of vitality and strength and, what is more, he could sleep. By physical therapy the Sheikh recuperated the energy needed by his people. He became more able to communicate with others, more creative and positive. His state of welfare reflected positively on his government. And I found that, relaxing a stiff muscle in the body could sometimes heal a State.

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Healing by the Word

A woman with migraine came to me and said: I do not want you to touch me with your hands. I just want you to tell me what I must do in order to be healed. Upon observing the woman, I felt that she is a lovely person who gives everything to others and nothing to herself. She was not selfish at all. She was in her unconscious the victim of doing good deeds. She takes the annoyance of others and keeps it in her heart. She did not express herself avoiding to disturb anybody. I opened my heart and said to the woman: Love your neighbor as yourself But not more than yourself. Treat him as you treat your soul Your love towards others is not Built on ruining your life. Love life in the same way In you as in your brother. What is your meaning if you Lose yourself and win the world. You repress yourself in order to please others Who are selfish, who love only themselves And in this way you nourish their greediness And determine them to be more sick Of their egoistic anxieties. Do not throw your jewels to the dogs Nor your treasures to the pigs. Give light and not bread To those who are possessed By their animal instincts And in this way you reveal their own misery And bring them back to God For this is the only way to love. If they refuse the gift of light Then leave them in peace And clean your feet from their dust Before it will create for you
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A negative stress in your inside And cause you migraines. Clean yourself with light And free yourself from all repression And confess in order To forgive yourself and to be forgiven. Take the hate and the blame From the depth of your heart And do not betray yourself. Nobody in this world is your enemy At the end you are the enemy You are the enemy of yourself Love your enemy with the fire And whiteness of Light And even if you loose your empire. Love for the sake of love In order to live and flow in Love And to have inner peace and to relax From any spasm and tension That can constrict the arteries of your brain And cause for you headache and migraine. Love your enemy in order To sleep peacefully at night. Do not be afraid of this world To condition your soul and imprison It in jails of fear and ignorance And to please the blind conditionings Of our modern Babylonian days. Do not suffocate the truth with Frustrations inside your heart Until your head explodes in pain. Free yourself from worldly fear And say the truth loudly and Loudly from the top of the roofs. Do not hide the light that Heals by taking the mask away. The light is the truth
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Shine it with love till you Are not repressed anymore With the negativity of your world And your heart will be opened And you will be healed And the angels or inspirations From the divine will come to you And fill your emptiness With the real happiness And you will be healed For forever from any disease. These words moved the woman with migraine deeply and gave her for a moment another kind of headache crisis which was like a healing crisis. In a few minutes the demon of the useless frustrated worldly conditioning was floundering under the effect of my words and leaving her free. Something had shifted in her, tears of enlightenment ran down her cheeks and all the strain that was pressuring her heart was released. Her inside tension suddenly disappeared and life started to vibrate in her with the freedom of her soul. The vascular system of her brain and her mind was healed of spasm and relieved of the effect of the perverse energy which comes from the negativity of our world or the negative stress. Lady you are healed, the sins in you are forgiven. In other words forget all the negativity of the past and do not look backwards and remain awake to the new coming Healing Light. Do not return to your sins or to your past conditioning, otherwise you will fall in a state worse than before. And instead of being tormented by the demon of your past negative stress, you will become possessed with uglier demons that will stifle you with fear and lack of faith, forcing you to reject unconsciously the healing Light of God and cage you in a hell of disease and pain. Now you are freed of the jail of your dark soul and are returned to the light of life as a child. Go and fast or free yourself from all your worldly addictions, ranging from the conditioning pleasures to the tranquilizers of our anxieties and migraines, after that you can face yourself and find your interior peace. Then pray in order to receive the Universal energy of Compassion and Harmony. A man heard that my Words had a healing effect on the woman. He suffered from diabetes, hypertension, angina pectorals caused by spasm in the coronary arteries and an irritable colon. He was a
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businessman lost in his many financial affairs. He was always tense and his nervous agitation and worries oscillated with the daily situations of the financial market. He was always alert and tense in order to seize every opportunity to gain more money. His mind and feelings were extremely charged with his materialistic maniac obsession of megalomania. On the other hand, he was a generous person who gives substantial material donations to different charities. Moreover, in his childhood he was very poor and became suddenly rich. He entered by chance in the game of business and his systems of finance became a dominating stress on his life affecting negatively his health. He was a person who entered the Capitalistic arena of the world and could not retract himself any more. Instinctively, he thought that money would bring him happiness and heal him from the fear of tomorrow. The businessman came to me frustrated and ruined within himself because all his expectations, built on worldly possessions had become a real sickness. He longed to be well and happy. He was ready to give up all his wealth in order to recuperate his health. He looked at me as a frightened child and said: Tell what to do to be happy, and cure myself from negative stress and to recover my health. I felt the businessmans deep pain. I saw his weakness and his loneliness. Many, out of jealousy, misunderstood him. He was judged as a greedy and a selfish moron. I perceived an enormous painful anxiety in his poor, wretched soul. With tremendous compassion, free of charge, I treated his case with a message. Focusing deeply on his eyes, I said: When you wake up every morning, Go to your window and look outside, Calm yourself and silence your worldly thoughts. Stay still and look at all The Universe and see yourself, How tiny you are. Take a deep breath of Gratitude. Thank God for everything. Thank him that your still breathing life. Free your heart from all the worries and pray with all your heart. Pray with words of Silence. Meditate joyfully and see how you will, Surrender everything you have
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Even yourself to Life. Perceive yourself by living The moment of losing everything. Enjoy this moment in complete happiness. You will be a person free of the miserable burden Of all your worldly possessions. Clamor with all your heart, I give up everything in order To enrich my soul with the Love of God To nourish His presence in every heart and everywhere. Say to your Lord , Forgive me and let Your will to be done. Look meditatively from your window and see How the flowers in the fields and trees Joyfully dress with the most Beautiful garments you have ever seen Because they never think how to dress And never have money like you To buy artificial clothes dyed with chemicals. Be like these trees, worry not about money In order to dress the cloth of life And get your eternal elegance. Look again do you see, How the birds dance Joyfully in the sky. They never worry about their food. All the land feeds them on the table of God With an abundant and unconditioned generosity. Live free in gratitude like these birds Feed with the Compassion of Our Father in heaven. Because tomorrow, when you are asleep, All of a sudden your money-god will collapse. Its idol will for forever be crushed down And you will wake up in a Desert. All your worldly wealth and money Will be useless and it could not buy For you anything, not even clothes or food.
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Start from now with your enlightened free will And invest your money In treasures of love in every heart. This the only way your richness Will give you happiness And survive the days of the coming Apocalypse of the financial Capitalistic Temple When the Devil of nowadays will be captured And whipped in human insides that Became caves of thieves poisoning The home of God in every soul. Tomorrow the Saints will lead this world. Choose yourself with your wise free will To be like the bird and tree fed by God. Hurry up before the money will brainwash you Thinking that it will buy for you everything Even happiness and the healing of your pain And in this way it addicts you to its idol And you become unconsciously worshipper Of a satanic Dead power that manipulates you, And you become its servant A man of flesh but dead inside. Hurry up and free yourself Of such death brought from Your concept of the materialistic world. Hurry up before you wake one day in the morning And find the addictive financial market Has crashed and the money idol has fallen down From the false high illusions on top of nations. Then, its attractive and addictive spirit Will drag you down with it And you will throw yourself after it from the window Because the finance Devil has possessed you. Give up with love all that you have And all that is given to you. Devote all your wealth and talents To nourish the Spirit of the Lord in every heart To make the divine seeds grow in every soul. God is hungry, is thirty and is suffering With us and in us in our human pain.
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Help Him with all that you have, Feel how The Father is crying in the wounds Of us, his dear children on Earth. Strengthen him in yourself and every self. Wake up in the morning of light Shining from the Sun of Divine Love. Free from all the miseries of the past Wake up and give up everything in Holy Surrender And you will get everything free, not from this world But from heaven and the Compassion of Universe. Wake up in the morning of God As a newborn in your interior world of within, Pious World of innocence, simplicity, humbleness That vibrate with the light of love and selflessness. Be a servant very rich in his heart forever And king of yourself in the Kingdom of Eternity That is flooded and overwhelmed with everlasting Love. The patient with diabetes, hypertension and heart problems believed in what I said. He was relaxed in himself and his fear of tomorrow was gone. He felt that he must not anxiously worry about the mortal financial treasures and pleasures of this world. He started to look to his life differently, feeling that God is taking care of him. He started to live his life simply and with compassion like a Sufi and to help with his money many who are in need. When he freed himself of his worldly fears, anxieties and worries and became in touch with the depth of his soul, he perceived that the mercy of God is always looking after him. He felt peace in his heart and all his tension and stress was healed. He became peaceful in himself and all his diseases were cured and happiness fluttered in his heart.

Healing is not prostitution

Miss M., 38 years old was an anxious girl with a tremendous anxiety about herself and her future. She lived extremely insecure and refused to face her inside insecurity and to understand the message behind all her anxieties. She wanted to tranquilize, with worldly pleasures, her interior frustrations instead of facing them and find peace within. She built for herself an unreal world and forced herself to believe in it. Her insecurity drove her to run from her own reality in an emotional direction
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incompatible with the Truth. She met a man who was insecure like her. Unaware, they tranquilized their anxieties with addictive sexual pleasures without any spiritual communication or a relationship that could go beyond physical dimensions. They lied to themselves and believed that they loved each other. Everyone saw his insecurity in his partner projecting on himself fear, lack of confidence and a delirium of jealousy. Their emotional relations belonged to the ephemeral sexual world that was stifling their spirit and indirectly increasing their insecurity. Everyone became addicted to the other. The mechanism of their relationships became emotional, manipulative, dominant, obsessive and possessive psychological defenses. On the other hand the blind was guiding the blind until they fell in the pit. Their relationship collapsed, ending in an emotional tragedy. Everyone woke up in his depressing self desert seeing his/her emptiness and having no other way than to face his/her reality and finding how to heal his/her own insecurity. Miss M. had a nervous breakdown feeling that all the diseases in the world were eating her body. She was brought to my clinic with a severe depression and feeling terrible pain in all her body. What is the matter with you, Miss M.? I asked. What is the matter with me? All my body is in pain and I am dying. I cannot breathe and my heart will soon stop. I feel something in my neck strangulating me. I cannot sleep. All my body is numb and I cannot walk. Id rather die than live in such hell, she replied. I examined her case carefully. All the symptoms were subjective and part of her emotional-hysterical drama. She was manipulating herself to a tragedy of sickness in order to get sympathy from others in order to tranquilize her self-insecurity or to trap me, as a physician, in her emotional play to motivate herself by being sick. She wanted anything to free herself from the addiction to her lovers love making by substituting to it a kind of complementary medical treatment, like the laying of my hands on her or massaging her body, because she was completely vain, rejecting to realize her wretchedness. I got inspired upon seeing the depths of Ms soul and, showing no commiseration to her, and with a healing voice crying from the wilderness of surgical compassion that can cast demons and idols out of the mind, I shouted at her saying: You have no sickness in your body, the sickness is in your mind and is abusing your heart. Do not deceive yourself by pretending consciously or unconsciously that you are in agony because your body is invaded with illness. You have no disease in your body. Your agony stems from the fact that all your life you refused to face your inner insecurity
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and you want me now to tranquilize you with my therapy or my presence. Listen to me and do not be capricious and emotionally greedy. Do not lie to yourself, accept your truth, even if the truth will crucify you, because only by this way will you heal and free yourself from your emotional hell and receive gracefully from the Truth peace and happiness in your heart. Lady M. look to your situation with a genuine spirit of forgiveness without blaming anybody. Come, my sweet and lovely lady and tell me what tragedy has happened in your life. I really want to help you, I am burning to take away your suffering. Open your heart my dear and confess. Tell me please what hurt you in your life? Why are you, such a young and beautiful lady ruining herself? In the beginning she tried to avoid telling me about her emotional problems. She defended herself by saying: I do not have any psychological problem. My problem is just pain in my body. And you know how to massage my body and heal my pain. Look my dear there is a tremendous suffering in your heart. May be you gave too much of yourself to others, and others did not appreciate you. I read a dramatic love story in your heart. Tell it to me and take out all the tension from your soul and throw it on me, because I am sincerely sent to heal your wounds and bring you happiness. I do not want a beautiful woman like you to suffer, open your heart and tell me everything and after that I will do for you what you want! She moved nearer to me and I felt a spark of lust twinkling in her eyes and making her body shiver. I felt that she was looking to get sympathy and sensual pleasure from my therapy. She said: If you love me so, I will trust you and tell you my story. And after that I need you to massage my body and help me bring back my boyfriend. Tell me what happened to you and after that we shall see. I felt that she was projecting on me her sensual and physical charm out of her emotional insecurity and need. With a great compassion and detachment I became like a healing priest listening to her confession. She said: I will tell you the truth. I am a devastated person. I am depressed because my heart is broken. My lover, the only partner I had in my life, has left me after ruining my life. I gave him everything but he was selfish. I surrendered to him with pleasure my virginity and asked him after that to marry me and he refused. Why did he do that with me, taking advantage of my innocence? He profited of my sentiments, raping
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me with my consent for his sexual pleasures and then became an egoist as most men are. His love to me was hypocritical. He was an extremely good, warm and nice person at the beginning. But when he got his sexual pleasure from me, he became a dirty person, moody and irresponsible. I want him to be for me only. I wanted to marry him at all cost and he refused. I am not a prostitute, I did sex with him to obtain him for myself. He is stupid and does not realize what a good wife I can be for him. I am the only woman in this world who can control his life, bringing out his goodness. Without me he was and will always be a lost person. He also cheated my parents. They welcomed him as a member of the family, because he was esteemed in society and because he helped many members of the family and relatives with an enormous unconditioned generosity. He has given us lots of presents and money. We were deceived by his charm and his generosity. But when my parents realized that he will not marry me, they kicked him out of our home. Did he promise that he will marry you? He said that he loved me and I gave myself sexually to him. This means that he should marry me. Otherwise, why accept such an intimate relationship? If my love blinded me, why then did he refuse to marry me, after we had sexual relations. I am not a prostitute, he must pay the price of his action and even if it will cost him all his life. He raped my dignity. I will do for him black magic and destroy his life if he will not marry me. Does he have good social conditions and financial possibilities that enable him to marry you? For sure he is able to marry me. He is a wealthy person and an eminent, well educated person. He is not like me, without money. For this reason, I was attracted and charmed by him because he is able to marry me. I know him since ten years. At that time he loved me but he was not wealthy and I was careful and clever enough to avoid any relation with him because of that. When he became rich and a well seen person in society, my parents felt secure about his visits to our house and they loved him. They even often invited him as a special guest. A bedroom was arranged for him to stay any night he wished in our home and because my parents trusted him it was natural that I must do for the guest what pleases him. Any time even at midnight, when I felt that he was lonely and frustrated, I invited him to my home and stayed all night to tranquilize his frustration with my warm body without listening or caring to what he was speaking. At the end he was a man and what does a man want from a woman!? He was a cultured person and I well know that my duty as a
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woman is not to understand culture. My duty in life is to know how to please my man, but men are selfish! Look doctor, you are a lovely person. You entered my heart. I am in your hands. Do with me what you want and please relieve me of my pain. Do you think that you also was wrong in your behavior towards him? You are blaming your boyfriend, is there is any blame on yourself? I did nothing wrong with him. If I loved him is this a mistake? I was innocent and pure. He abused me. I am proud of myself because all whom I met in my life appreciated me as a perfect woman. I made no mistakes. Maybe my only mistake is that I trusted my boy friend and allowed him to abuse my femininity. As I understand, in the beginning, your boy friend helped you and your family with many things without asking you or manipulating you to have with him sex by promising you marriage. This means that he loved you as a human being without any selfish interest. And suddenly, you offered yourself sexually to him when lust weakened him and thought that you had definitely won him. You consider yourself a victim and your boyfriend guilty for the sexual relation and asked him to marry you but his answer was negative. Why have you forced the situation like an obsessive and insecure person with tremendous fear for the future, instead of leaving your love relations to flow naturally and peacefully in harmony towards a full spiritual communication? The act of marriage that binds a man and a woman forever comes from God, not from sexual pleasures and worldly selfish interests. In order to obtain healthy marriages, we must heal and clean the hearts of the partners until they become open to a divine relationship. Marriage is not an act of addiction between a man and a woman, nor an emotional establishment to ensure our pleasures and materialistic needs. Marriage is built on a spiritual communication that links the couple with God through the highest intimate relationship of unconditioned love, enlightenment and a full responsibility towards our present and future. Therefore, possessive jealousy, emotional domination and manipulations, lack of trust and self-confidence, conditioning, addictive and possessive behaviors, spirit of neediness, greediness and lack of sacrifice, arrogance and vanity, mental rigidity and caprice, egocentric and selfish compartments, psychological insecurity, fear and defense mechanisms etc., are all disorders that can poison any relationship and obstruct the channels of love in human relationships. Any act is stillborn if there is no Love because it has no lan vital from God.

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Miss M., your life is not an emotional game that belongs to you, but a responsibility and a painful healing process that trains you towards happiness. Please, listen to me and forgive yourself by admitting that your love experience is a healing process for you and not a subjective emotional act of hate, condemning and judging others because matters did not work as you planned. Get out of your fear of tomorrow and free yourself from your inner insecurity. Face yourself and accept with humility that you are a child before God the Great Father. Your depression is not a depression but a state of despondency caused by losing your lovers sexual and psychological attraction. Accept your present state and be happy with it because it is a healing process to face your insecurity that you cannot tranquilize by emotional love. God can now show his love to you because no more unhealthy relationships obstruct His compassion towards you. Overlook the past and all your worldly dreams and pleasurable obsessions and go in a great fast that will make you accept your frustration and pray for healing and forgiveness. Then you will receive the real Love that sets peace and happiness in your heart. You cannot find love through your relationship with anybody unless you wash your worldly inside insecurity with the Divine Light What you are saying, doctor, is not true. I believe in God. I did not do any mistakes with anybody and I am perfect within myself. Why are you accusing me with all this wrongdoing? I think that you are with your psychological defense mechanism projecting all your emotional stuff on me. Doctor, I did not come to you to receive lectures and advises. I am mentally, emotionally and psychologically perfect. I told you my love story because I liked you as a friend. But my story obsessed you, and reminded you of the problems of many women you know. Do not worry about me, it is I who need to worry about you. All that I need from you is to massage my naked body with your hands and all my muscular and emotional pain will disappear. Do that for me please, I will offer myself to you and will be all right and you will feel pleasure upon touching my body. Are you not tired of speaking? I stood for a while silent not knowing what to do and how to proceed with my healing therapy to Miss M. Meanwhile, she took off her clothes and came to me drunken with her sensual charm. She hugged me emotionally, grasped my hands and dragged me to the osteopathic massage table in my clinic, and said: Please come to me, you are a doctor of love. Come and touch my body with your healing hands and perform your therapeutic love on me. I need you.
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She stretched out on the treatment table and tried hysterically to bring me to lie on her. Seeing that she was adamant in refusing to listen to my healing message, I freed myself from her clutch and from her sexual trap. I realized that all she wanted was to abuse me and trample my medical principles by turning me to a vile gigolo. She wanted me to substitute for her boyfriend as a tranquilizer for her selfish insecurity. Under the pretense of treating her, she was abusing me and my human values by trapping me into a disastrous corner that would kill my spirituality. And she was conscious of that! I was struggling with all my power to heal her, ease her suffering and lift her towards the light of Gods mercy, but she was bent on dragging me down as an animal to satisfy the vanity of her instincts. I drew away from her, refusing to touch her. She felt that I was rejecting her overture, knowing that she was manipulating my healing compassion to feed her sexual desires and to do with me as she did with her boyfriend. She cried with manipulative tears of sympathy: Please help me, I am your patient. Do not be cruel with me, I am a human being. Come near me and hug my body and warm me, I am cold. Come and love me, your love will take the hell from my heart. M. wake up from your sexual hysteria and put on your clothes please. I am a physician with the healing power given me by my Lord Jesus Christ. An insecure negative energy or a greedy demoniac spirit is possessing and dominating you unconsciously, and by using you it is trying to manipulate me to nourish itself. That is why you feel tired, depressed, weak and with pain all over your body as if a spiritual parasite is sucking your energy and enslaving you in order to suck the energy of others. I will not allow my energy to nourish the negativity or your demons. Wake up and pray God to help you and to give you faith by casting away all your process of insecurity. I love you because God loves you and want you to be a happy woman on the right track of life. I love you and wish to heal all your sufferings and to bring peace to your heart. She stared at me with lusty and ironic eyes and said: Why are you complicating matters in order to help me. You can help me by giving me a session of your treatment. I know what is good for me. If you really love me, come and make love to me on your treatment table. This what I want from you and sex with you will heal all my troubles. What will you lose by doing love to me? I am a pretty young woman, come to my heart, I want the warmth of your body! I saw that an evil spirit was speaking in her. She looked in her nakedness like a siren. I felt as if a dagger stabbed me in the heart. I felt a
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fire burning me and shouted, rebuking her, her demons and all the demons of the world who were trying to seduce my pure soul: In the name of Jesus Christ, I cast away your diabolic negativity. Oh my Lord help and free her from the torment that is abusing her. I fell on my knees exhausted and silent. And suddenly all her body started to shake. I saw the muscles of her abdomen cramp and somehow swell like a tumor. Her heart galloped. She felt somebody was choking her. Her face was in sweat. A big fright appeared in her eyes. She dressed quickly her clothes and rushed out from my clinic as if her demons were urging her to run away. She screamed like a wild sow with outrage: You are crazy. You are sadistic. And she went away from my clinic. Miss M. went home furious with me and told her parents and certain relatives of mine, that in my clinic, I abused her during my treatment and assaulted her sexually. Her parents believed her lie and came to punish me for my misbehaviors with their innocent girl. Never mind I will fast and pray more and more for her healing.

A call from the wilderness

I had to leave London for a month. I thought of going to Rumania, because an inner voice was telling me to visit Cluj. I felt the need to be again in the lovely Transylvanian city in which I studied medicine for seven years. In Cluj I grew up as a physician and as a poet. There, I was nourished with a deep culture and a great spirituality I arrived in Cluj at Christmas. I visited the grave of my great friend Petran before I wandered in the streets visiting the cafes and restaurants where I had a most inspirational bohemian life. In the street I met with my old friend Badica. He was a philosopher and an eminent professor of culture. Badica was very excited to meet me after more then ten years. We had plenty of ideas to share. Badica and a medical doctor friend invited me to the Pasteur and Victor Babes medical institute to do a recital of my medical poems to the doctors. He said: Many physicians here are in need of you to warm their hearts. They sometimes need to listen with artistic ears to pain expressed in verse.

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I went for my poetic meeting with my Clujean friends. Many people were waiting in the hall. The atmosphere was strange. I felt living out of Time and Space. I wished to address the attendance with compassionate verses, but my poetic tongue was suddenly paralyzed. I could not recite poetry. My mind was blank. The room was silent and I stood still, wondering what was going on! I looked around me to catch the Muse who betrayed me in this critical moment, and my hand fell on the ears of a twelve-year-old girl. What was going on? What did she want? I looked at her and she pointed with a finger to her ears. Her speech was silence. She was born deaf and dumb. Is she asking to me to heal her? Yet nobody knew in this room that I could cure certain diseases with the touch of my hands! The audience had invited me to recite poetry. They knew me as a poet but not as a healer. But my mind was hopelessly blank to poetry. The poetic channel was closed. I asked the attendance what did they expect from me? No answer! There was silence in the room as in a monastery. Everyone was dumbfounded! A current of energy passed through me, quieting me. All my senses fell down, and my mind was captured by the black hole of the mysterious infinite. My hands were stroking the young girls ear. Suddenly, after a few seconds, an explosion of light shook the room. The dumb young girl SPOKE! She broke the silence for the first time in her life. Her voice arrived to her now, it came from the wilderness of the universe and vibrated the whole room with mystic fright and tears of light and joy. Aura heard and spoke. An old lady in her eighties came and sat on a chair beside me. Her left eye was blind due to bleeding and severe infection. Pus and blood were clearly seen on her degenerated cornea. The old woman looked at me with a spirit of arrogance, suspicion and need. I felt awful. I did not like her. I felt that this sort of person could not be healed because, firstly, her problem was medically impossible to be cured and, secondly, her character was closed with negativity and could not receive any healing energy. I looked in the room, at the many doctors who were present. Some of them were my teachers in the medical school. I wanted to explain scientifically to my colleagues what was going on. I said: Look! Here is a medical case, which I cannot help, because the eye has been already damaged by an infection and has become an abscess. The doctors in the room appreciated my scientific approach. I tried to convince the old woman that I could not help her and asked her to

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leave. But she was impolite and pretended that she did not hear what I said. She insisted on me to put my hands a little above her damaged eye. One of the doctors in the room suggested to put my hand on the old womans eye if only as a polite psychological support. Then she would realize that I could not help her and would leave me in peace. I did as my colleague suggested and after a few minutes I took my hand away. Suddenly the woman cried: Oh my God; I am seeing! Light has entered my eye! Her cry of mercy shook the whole building of the institute of medicine and collapsed my rational medical mind. Upon examining the old womans left eye, I observed that her cornea and iris had become clear and resumed their natural color. Neither spots of blood nor signs of pus could be seen. I was extremely frightened of this unknown phenomenon. My medical conditioned mind was pushing me to run away and deny the truth, but I was trapped and paralyzed in my place by such a healing miracle. Suddenly, I felt myself hit by the conflict of the opposites. I fell down on the floor, on my knees under the chair of the old lady and raised up my hands asking for help and cried: Thank you! Thank you! Your presence here has brought to me God! Thank you! You healed me from skepticism. And from skepticism I was healed The people in the room saw me like a knight fallen down from his horse, hit by the sword of light, and my image became unfathomable. In the room, questions rose up about me: With whom is he speaking? Is he speaking with God? Is he mad? It seems he does not believe in himself! Who healed the woman? The answer to all these questions was silence. In this charged atmosphere, a beggar entered through the door, carrying his body on two crutches. The sound of his steps broke the dumb hypnotic atmosphere. He smelled from outside the fire of healing, or may be it was an inner voice that prompted him to come in. He stretched his hands towards me and instead of asking for money, he asked for healing his legs paralyzed with polio. He wanted me to cure his legs to be able to work. He was tired of begging after so many years. This crippled man threw himself before me imploring me to help him. Some people around me were whispering: Who told this young gypsy to come here? I thought that I could not help his polio case. Suddenly, an overwhelming inspiration came to me. I put my hands pressing the weak muscles of the beggars limbs. I felt that he had a faith stronger than mine and of all those present in the room were watching this healing process.
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He perceived himself a cured person. When he felt somehow better, he stretched himself with the confidence of his piety. He stood up and walked, dragging his legs, and left the room with tears twinkling in his eyes, leaving us the crutches! A neurologist who once taught me medicine was watching me. He could not believe what I was doing. He was suspicious of the improvement of the beggars case. Limping, he came up and stood facing me. I remembered him when he was training me in the neurological hospital. He looked at me with funny authority and said: Colleague, you do miracles. You cured the gypsy beggar. For sure, you can help me with my hemiplegia! We are good friends, and you were a fantastic student of mine. I examined his case, he had weak muscles in the right arm and leg that are the signs and symptoms left by a stroke. I felt his case was easy for me, since I had treated with my physical therapy many cases of hemiplegia with large measures of success. I got excited to help my medical teacher. I wanted him to experience my healing abilities on himself. I wanted to show him how brilliant I was! I looked at the neurologist and I replied: Colleague, I can surely help you. I will surprise you. Believe me, in a few minutes you will feel an improvement. To begin with, the spasm in your right limbs will go by my physical therapy techniques of rehabilitation and then, your extensors and flexors will immediately become energized by my manual manipulation. Colleague, what you are saying is completely logical and sounds functionally scientific. This is my leg and this is my hand, cure them. I am waiting to see my good student at work With pride I started to treat the doctor with my skilful hands. My medical professor and patient was open to my healing medical work because we understand each others medical language. I tried hard to improve his muscles. But at the end of the session and in front of all those present in the hall, I failed to help him and became disappointed. I wanted to prove my skill on my medical master, but all my pride as a doctor and my medical dream were broken. In front of my professor I failed in my examination but in front of the beggar I succeeded. Such a healing result is unfair, but why? When my neurologist teacher found that I could not help him, he criticized ironically what I was doing saying that, with my new method of therapy, I was spoiling the medicine he taught me at school. He left the room angrily, followed by many of my colleagues. A very few physicians
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remained beside me. I got frustrated with what happened, and became fed up with my need to prove to myself and to others how brilliant a physician I am. I came to dislike touching bodies and working with flesh and to realize that my work on the mortal biological bodies of my patients is not such a big deal for humanity. The question that occupied my mind was whether biological medicine could produce a school of thought that can civilize the coming generations and inspire a revolution that can lift humanity to the highest spiritual dimensions? Or is medicine just a disgusting bodywork, in priority for who pays more? I opened my heart for love to burn me more and prayed it could warm the cold spirits of this world. Suddenly, I observed that nobody from the audience was coming to me any more, to treat his biological disease. The room became full of compassion. Healing started to work on another dimension: it began to treat the wounds of the hearts and remove the darkness from the minds. My voice started to change. I felt myself sitting somewhere near the corner of the cosmos, in the shadow of the infinite. I saw my spirit living in past millenniums. The part of the worlds civilization built on love shaded me until I fell in a trance, and a voice, hereto unknown, came through to me, and said to the Rumanian audience: I came from Lebanon, from the land that gave light to the world, from the land of Christ, from the caves that were the hermitage of hosts of saints, from the spark of love which I pray will never be swallowed up by the dark world of greed and hate. I am carrying this torch as a gift of healing, not to cure bodies, but to speak with a language capable of conditioning the body and preparing it for the healing process. Heal your souls! Let your good creative spirit shine with love towards the World! Listen to the divine cry of your heart and do not allow it to be silenced by the Mammon of this world. Free yourself with the light that comes only from above and not from hereunder! Light guides you to the vastness of the cosmos and to nowhere else. The systems of the World need you, clean your hearts and enrich them with good deeds for the future! Listen to the pain Suddenly, a mystic delirium filled the minds of the attendance who, for hours and hours were watching my healing work and listening to me. They started to look at me as a second Christ. I felt strongly this negativity. I was amazed how stupid fancies can sometimes dominate human minds. Angrily, I bellowed: I am not Christ nor am I a saint, an apostle or a disciple. I am a miserable and helpless human being like you. Nobody forced me to come
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to you here. It just happened and I enjoyed it. Our meeting here is fun and an opportunity to meet my beloved friends in Cluj. Let us just enjoy being together Many people were entering and leaving, spreading in the city of Cluj rumors about the crippled who walked, the blind who saw and the dumb who spoke. For ten days the healing was going on. Many Clujean people became so excited by what was going on that they spent many sleepless nights. The Cluj television came and filmed all the healing events. Among the audiences were different people, ranging from politicians, to professors, physicians, priests, students, etc. Everyone was inspired by what was happening Now, the auditors began to believe that I am Christ. I got mad with the psychological projections on people that create gurus or leaders to lead them unconditionally. I wanted to heal this particular side of the human mind that gets quickly conditioned and addicted to eccentric things. I wanted to prompt the individual to govern himself responsibly rather than be enslaved by an idea or an image. I wanted our thoughts to be realistic and our minds to remain free and available for the inspiration of love that braces our creativity. I wanted others to look at me as a weak, ordinary person no different from them. I detached myself completely from the emotions of many of the people around me and, with a compassionate voice, condemned their negativity, inciting them to wake up. I rejected vehemently the possibility of being considered superior to anybody. Two young, charming girls were moved emotionally by my words. They wanted to come and hug me in order to receive some of my healing energy. I shouted at them saying: I warn you do not come near to me thinking that I am a saint. Do not trust me and throw yourselves in my lap. I am a human being and my obscene nature can easily burst out. Whatever I said to the people surrounding me did not prevent them from looking to me as a superior being. I must scratch this image from their heads at all costs and direct them to love my message of healing and carry its light and not to love me as a person. I found on the table before me, several bottles of vodka. I started to drink as fast as I could and to behave like a drunken Rumanian peasant. When the alcohol started to influence my speech, I fell down on the floor over a person sitting near me who had a calcified foot. My hand with all the pressure of my body hit his calcified foot. He jumped up furious with pain. I thought that I had broken his foot.
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Suddenly, he walked normally and the calcification crystals of his joint were broken. My fall on him cured his leg. Amazing how such things could happen! His calcified foot saved me in such a situation! The people who were in the room refused to believe that my fall was fortuitous. They poured me more vodka, thinking that it will add to my healing energy. Ten days later, I declined the invitation for another gathering at the Cluj Institute. A doctor friend of mine called me to visit with him his mother at the hospital who was suffering from rheumatic arthritis and could not walk. As I entered the hospitals lobby of rheumatic diseases, I found it full of patients. After treating the doctors mother for ten minutes, she rose up and immediately walked. The patients present, who had the same problem, believed that I had certain abilities that could cure them. They implored me to heal them saying: God has sent you to us, please put your hands on us. I did so, and there was like an earthquake of healing. Patients were cured in no time. They left their beds and wanted to leave the hospital. I felt that, in about two hours I could cure all the hospitals patients and nobody will remain there. I realized that if I do that, the hospital will be closed and its system will fall down. And this was the last thing I wanted because if a medical system collapses, there is nothing to take its place. Indeed, we need our present medical establishments but we also we need to endow them with the light of inspiration and compassion. I went to the director of the hospital who was once my professor. He also was suffering from arthritis. I wanted to cure his joint disorders and tell him that his patients wanted me to help them, but that I will do so only in collaboration with him. He was scared and not open-minded. I did not blame him! I wished that one day things would happen to him as they happened to me and he would become, like me, a servant dedicated to the healing of others Two weeks later, I ran away from Cluj to Bucharest then to London. I was running away from crowds of people who wanted me to do miracles for them. Clairvoyants or false prophets have perhaps cheated them. Or perhaps their frustrations compelled them to see in me somebody special. I never wished to pose as Jesus Christ, nor to be crucified by the establishments of our days. I am a simple human being, who wishes to love the World, expecting nothing in return!

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Healing of the systems

My medical global vision My meetings in the university My message to the physicians Back to our spring

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My medical global vision

I returned back from Rumania to London after I found that, at the end, we need to heal our world systems before we can heal the individual, and the individuals mind must be healed before the good systems can function and serve humanity. What good is it for me to cure a limping leg? It is natural that all of us will limp on our way towards our last Home of silence. We need first to cure a lame mind whose thoughts could hinder the action of the coming systems of our global communities and nations. Sick thoughts can create a negative stress in every human being and various diseases and can affect our rules and disciplines by poisoning the systems of communication and human relationships. In my career as a physician I am obliged to treat the causes of diseases and to be responsible for the health of the individual and of the community. My duty is to send a healing message of love and awareness through the channels of the Systems and to awaken those who unconsciously could cripple the coming generation.

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My Meetings at the University

I met with a scientist from India whose name was Dr. Fatimi. He was searching for the truth of our life in the academies. Originally, he was a barrister and a writer. He translated the Koran to English. But then he studied physics and mathematics at the London University. He became a great scholar: a doctor in electro-dynamics from Kings college and an eminent cybernetic. Dr. Fatimi reached the conclusion that science cannot embody the whole truth. Our rational thinking cannot fathom the absolute. Our mind must be more open in order to receive the knowledge of compassion from the Universe. Dr. Fatimi brought a new concept to science. He was searching the science of the heart and of spiritual values. He was a great Sufi free thinker. Dr. Fatimi appreciated me as a mystic thinker, heir of the strong spiritual roots of the East, capable of carrying the essence of this knowledge to the culture of Western societies. He opened to me the academic circles in the London University in order to allow my compassion to penetrate its arid systems. He presented me as a man sent for the salvation of the western civilization with my enlightened spirit. Dr. Fatimi was a humble, simple, compassionate and wise person. He patiently listened to me and was interested with my healing work. He agreed with me that the actual academic teaching and training needed an overhaul. I expressed my thoughts in these words: I am afraid that one day the academic educational systems will collapse. It may be that in the next century the institutes will lose their capacity of communication with our reality. The educational systems must not be rigid and pragmatically conditioned with disregard to compassion. They must serve the needs of the community for inspirational and enlightened knowledge. There is at present a lot of arrogance in the academic educational systems, and their attitudes neglect the humanistic needs of the coming generations. They graduate their students anyhow

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with an imperialistic, mechanical, conditional, judgmental, pragmatic, divisional and atheistic spirit. The university must open its doors to heart-felt knowledge and spiritual values. The university must reflect the life process of our human universe and assume its responsibility. It must train its cadres on compassion and high morality, on social responsibility and collective awareness, on listening to the pain of the individual and of the global community and, finally, on serving our human values for the general welfare. The educational system must support and encourage the creativity in every member of our society. It must bolster the gifts and skills of any individual and direct all his capacities for the good of humanity. We must all deal wisely and be careful that our precious systems will not be deflected from the cultural and spiritual roots of Light and Love. Our systems must serve our human truth in order to enrich our hearts with peace on the doorstep of civilization. The educational system must be creative and free to impart light to everybody and never be hoarded by any dominating group of selfish interests. Students must not be treated as machines. They should not be crammed with information like a robot or like some bureaucrats who deal with dry information that ignore the spiritual side of our human actuality. Educational systems must use knowledge and every accumulated data to inspire man to be a creative and wise servant of the community. Dr. Fatimi liked my ideas and appreciated my message of Love without judgement and criticism. He was looking for the science of wisdom and harmony that, alone, can save man and our planet from destruction. He agreed with me that the medical educational systems must teach the physician to heal himself by listening to his moral code in order to be able to devote himself to his patients Dr Fatimi wanted me to give a lecture to the university professors and scientists. He told me not to be intimidated there but to say what I think, because there is a great need of my human creative fire there. And so one day I was invited to London University Kings College, to lecture about consciousness. I said: Consciousness is not a biological zone in the brain or a neural biochemical quantum reaction. Consciousness could not be biologically understood as a subjective feeling of the mind or as seeing the unseen. In order to define Consciousness our way of thinking must be changed because consciousness is a universal dimension. In mathematical terms,
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consciousness belongs to the number infinite and my mind belongs to number one. One could not define the infinite but it is included in the set of the Infinite. We all tend to think that consciousness is a part of our biological system. It is not, because we are not, as far as information is concerned, an isolated system of the Universe. The system of every individual is conditioned to receive information from the Universe in the form of subtle energy, uncreated energy, life energy or Compassion. This information is channeled to us as biological receivers. It passes through our emotional body and inspires our mind. Thereupon, our perceptions obtain the function of awareness. The information we receive from the universe is reflected in us in a strictly individual form called self-consciousness. Healing is the mechanism of removing the obstructions in the individuals channels of universal information. When a person is selfish or vain, then his awareness perceives only himself. He closes himself to the information of the Universe. He obstructs informatively his channel from receiving universal compassion. He could be in very stressful conditions that create for him diseases in psychological, mental, social or physical forms. Therefore diseases are, at the origin, obstructions in channels of communication. This mechanism could also be noticed as a disharmony in ourselves or in our relations to others. Love your neighbor as yourself, Then you will be in harmony with the universe, And healed of any negative stress In the lecture room of the university, many professors and scientists who were attending my lecture, were not used to my unusual concepts. Many became irritated with my remarks; my compassionate message humbled others. An eminent professor and scholar with an international reputation came to my lecture in order to find inspiration from my ideas about consciousness, since he was seeking to invent consciousness in a machine. His pragmatic thinking was extremely disappointed and disturbed after my lecture. He addressed me saying: Professor, you are speaking nonsense. If nonsense heals. I am with nonsense, I answered. You know nothing about consciousness! he added. It is true that at the end of my great laborious researches, I will come to the conclusion that I know nothing. Then, I will accept to be in Nothingness.
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There was a big silence in the hall and an overwhelming wave of universal compassion fell upon us with a lovely collaborative communication and the rest was silence.

My message to the physicians

Dear colleague, Listen to the pain! We are the children of pain and carry the pain of others. Be the servant of truth and the witness of Light. Be compassionate with all those who throw their pain on you Open your heart and take joyfully the frustrations of others. Only thus will you be able to heal human wounds. Listen to your inner awareness, to your moral code. Stand up firmly at the acme of human values and express freely your medical compassion and selflessness. Be servants for the curing of the sick and not office workers; be carriers of the torch of healing and the cross of patients. You are not medical bureaucrats who use only strict knowledge of anatomy and physiology. You are not the robots of certain reductional systems of atheistic and limited sciences. You are gifted people, and artists of life that suffer with every patient. Allow the Pain of others to frustrate and vibrate your soul, tuning you to an inspirational and vital energy of love that heals Be holy in your approach to your patients. Light with your love the wick of the lamp of medical sciences. Guide the sick to his home in God and carry his burden on the way. Shine on your patients with compassion. Be with them an enlightened and vital being. Inspire them with the great meanings of life that could be behind any suffering. Dont treat the patient as a biological machine. The human being is a creative life system, created on the model of God. Man cannot be defined in books of medicine, nor understood by psychological
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imaginations, or measured by the limitations of quantum mechanics. Man is not only quantum energy; he is also a spiritual energy. His disease is not only a biological condition but also a spiritual condition. In order to treat a disease, you must heal all the predicaments of the patient. You must comprehend the depths of the patient with great wisdom. By love, you can enter the individuals heart and his field of consciousness. You can see his world and remove the thorns from it. I cannot perceive you only with biological materialistic thinking. What about your unique human individuality vibrating with emotions and feelings, colored and creative thinking; what about your art of social communication and relationships, and the unique and mysterious consciousness of yourself? All these dimensions are the orbit of every person and are relative to his disease How can I diagnose a patients suffering by examining only his animal part and ignoring his human essence? The medical training system that treats the human being as a machine, dissected in functional systems or on the model of laboratory animals, is negative. Such an arrogant system of medical practice is mechanical, reductional, manipulative, analytical, judgmental and condemning. It poisons the contact and collaboration between the physician and the patient. It transforms medical institutions into tribunals and executioners. This imperialistic, pragmatic, materialistic and atheistic medicine is cruel and misses the spirit of life. It can kill the soul of the individual in order to treat his body. It ignores the uniqueness of our life and of our human individuality. Medicine must be a message of compassion and enlightening aimed at healing the sick and at creating intimate relations between him and God. Medicine must collaborate with the individual on the highest human dimensions. Medicine must inspire us with the meaning of life in order to transcend our pain. It must serve life, a matter more important than treating the body. Dear colleague, do not jeopardize the spiritual message of medicine. Be aware of the life of others, as you are aware of your own life. Love their lives, as you love your own. Life is far superior to our persons and more important than our healing and physical aptitudes. Therefore, listen to your heart and let it tell you what life expects from your relationship with your patient. Listen to your inner voice, to your moral code, when you assume the responsibility of the life of others in the course of your medical practice. Be godly in our world of medical science, a selfless servant of Truth and witness of life. Most members of our community are sick and in
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need of the healing positive energy that physicians can procure them. Clean your heart from all our worlds addictive negative conditionings and offer yourselves as a remedy to others. You are the remedy, burn in the suffering of every sufferer, climb to his Golgotha till you reach his resurrection.

Back to our Spring

I met with a group of journalists, musicians, artists, businessmen and politicians in one of Londons cultural salons. They asked me to speak to them about how to avoid diseases caused by stress negativity. I told them: All of you were born gifted in different fields. You were given by God the faculty to serve humanity and to be true to yourselves. Give graciously and freely what you were given graciously and freely. Serve out of love, not out of necessity. Reflect in your profession the skilful creativity and compassion of your Creator. You were born with an amount of quantum energy. The Architect of the Universe created you to be channels of the abundant flow of the energy of universal Love. If you do not conform your activity to the systems of your Creator and of His Will, your life will be in danger and you will be in disharmony or in distress. Your universal homeostasis will be out of order and you will be sick. We are all in need of healing. We must always open our hearts to the Light of the Creator in order to enlighten the community with creativity and good deeds. Our healthy existence depends upon keeping ourselves within the universal harmony based on the relationship of compassionate communication between all creatures and their Creator. Our role in life is to inspire every individual with happiness by joining him with the Original Spring of Creation. At all cost, we must be always disposed not to surrender to our stressful worldly positions and possessions that may form an obstacle in the path of our salvation. Listen humbly and with gratitude to your inner voice. Do not jeopardize your God-given-gift, nor betray yourself. Be always the

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intimate friend of your spirit in order to receive from it the consolation and the strength that eliminate the worldly manipulative and abusive conditions which may imperil your relationship with others. If you are honest with yourself, then you are in harmony with your existence; and if you are in harmony with your human communication systems, you will not be anxious about who you are, and how you will fare tomorrow. And then, the actual empire of negative global stress will not be able to drag you in its currents away from the heavenly feelings of your heart. Surmount all your worldly pleasures and addictions which can condition you and manipulate your fears and anxiety by stressful and unreal powers that produce no happiness and listen, listen: Listen to the beauty And to the divine music That sings eternity Within you; Listen deeply In the silence of your Cottage of poverty And light a candle With the fire of your heart; Look outside your door At the dark storm; It has already left you. The cold king of gold Will break his Diamond sword; Take off his crown And put it down At the door of your hut And peacefully enter Your selfless world To sing with you a song divine And draw the poison From the wine.

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Back to my roots
Many were invited to the session of healing and I was one of them. Many were wounded with human sufferings and I was one of them. I was extremely committed to the English people who heartily welcomed my compassionate spirit. I felt that many people in England believed themselves capable to heal their patients better than I could. I wished them great success, because all that I did was not healing; it was just taking to my heart the pain of many and carrying the cross of my patients. England inspired my medical practice and turned it to a spiritual goal. I was grateful for everybody who abandoned me in the wilderness so that I could find God.

* * *
In May 1995, A voice of my motherland, Lebanon, called me to return home. The voice was choked with pain after eighteen years of war. I listened deeply to the calling of my country and suddenly, I heard again the steps of Christ walking on His land. My destiny blew a wind of joy and carried me from London back to my homeland. I returned to my village to enjoy its peace and to feel again the vigor of my childhood under the olive and cedar trees. I returned to my land in pursuit of my historical spiritual roots. As soon as I reached my village Kafarhelda, I followed the steps of my ancestral fathers. I climbed the mountain paths to the caves of our saints. I sat there for hours meditating in silence and sending absent healing messages to my patients scattered all over the world. In my motherland, many people were waiting for my return to see me. They could not forget my healing deeds which saved their lives. Crowds of people came to meet me in my home, on the roads, in church, in odd places Faith was written on their faces and piety in their hearts. With humbleness and love, they prayed God to bring me back to Lebanon. They felt that I was for them the real physician who shared their pain with them. I was asked to heal a twelve-year-old boy suffering from a idiopathic thrombocytopeny, a potentially fatal blood disease causing

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internal bleeding. The boys father had heard about me as a doctor of miracles. This case frightened me. I prefer to work with something palpable. I can work on a frozen shoulder and know after five minutes if the person is better. I told him that I could not help his son and asked him to leave. The man replied: God has sent me to you. I knew that I could not escape. I worked on the boy for two days and then gave him a blood test to convince his father that it was no good. I was astonished, the blood cells were better. I tried hard to explain rationally how my work helped the boy but I found no logical scientific explanation. Later, I learned that the boy was spending most of his time praying and asking God to be cured. I thought then of introducing prayer to my medical practice. One day in my clinic I lay my hands on the boy and prayed for his healing with all the compassion of my heart. I was surprised after the session that the blood cells improved. At the end came the time for me to heal myself. After a hard long journey on the Golgotha of medicine, I reached the universe of prayers. I was wounded with every wound to heal the wounds. The burden of the suffering of others, the cross of my patients weighed heavily on me. My heart was heavy from burning alone in a world of ice. I gave up everything to help others. Now my message is finished. I am back in my homeland to feel simple as a child, to rest under the shadow of a cedar tree forever and to heal my human wounds with prayer In the world I have no shelter And nothing to lose Often looking for the better Life that I choose. On a bed of thorns I sleep Dreaming of a pure universe Pages of time will keep Me a light and an eternal verse In loneliness to silence I tell About my infinite love
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Until the blessing of the bell Rings me silent Above

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