Opening to abundance

Brad picked up Elly at the San Francisco International Airport arrivals level, after a red-eye flight. Popping the trunk of his Toyota Corolla, he began loading her luggage, which was heavy with scrumptious cookies and stylish ladies apparel from Japan.

“How were your meditations, hon?” he said, excited to share his results. He closed the trunk and gave her a quick hug and a kiss.

“I didn’t do any,” she said. “There was too much going on with my family, and my parents needed help. They can’t keep things clean and organized like they did when they were younger.”

They got in the car and he nodded at the traffic cop who was waving him to move out. “Well, I had a  breakthrough,” he said, as he navigated the busy traffic out of the international terminal. “It was after I was down on the couch for five days, tormented by the dark night of my soul. It was horrible! I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. It sure answered my old question of why so few people get Enlightened.”

He went on to share with her about his internal battles, and his new insights about the nature of reality. He told her how he no longer felt driven to conquer endless challenges and the need to be successful. “I don’t need to go see the Master in Kagoshima and show the monks!”

“Are you still going to work?” she said, as they arrived at their parking garage. Brad’s words had been so unsettling, it was as if a new soul had walked into her husband’s body, and she didn’t know what kind of future to expect.

“Of course! Chop wood and carry water, as they say. I thought of that Robert Scheinfeld book you were reading, about Opening to Abundance. The idea of following a routine and having the right attitude about money seems inspiring now. I don’t need to put any more energy into a spiritual pursuit!”

“That’s nice! I love that,” she said, with a song in her heart. There was no room for poverty in Elly’s future life.

Scanning his online medical journals, a psychotherapy conference called “Nondual Wisdom” caught Brad’s interest. He discovered they were implementing a dual approach to help their clients, making them feel accepted by creating a “safe space,” and restoring them to wholeness or “unity” which solves the core problem of feeling isolated.

Brad was so intrigued by the positive impact this could have on human suffering, that he brainstormed how he could incorporate it into his medical practice.  He formulated an idea which he published on his website, adding a third element –  touching the patient.  His idea came from knowing the 3 main complaints that patients have about doctors: “He didn’t listen to me, he didn’t touch me, and he didn’t tell me anything I wanted to know.”

Brad shared his discovery with some of his colleagues. They understood the importance of listening and doing a physical exam, and establishing a compassionate touch or at least a handshake.  But they didn’t get the fuzzy concept of unity, or understand what restoring a patient to “wholeness” had to do with their doctor work. That was way out of the box.

He pushed ahead and applied the ideas to his patient visits. Patients were coming out of the exam room glowing. The word got around and within a few months the staff was double-booking him, and his colleagues were referring difficult cases, like the patients who needed anger management, or were non-compliant, or had lists of questions to answer. The money was coming in, and the Rosedales’ started looking to upgrade their lifestyle, finding a penthouse condo with 3 balconies and a view of the Bay.

Implementing those spiritual principles had turned on a fire hose of patient referrals. It reminded him of many years ago when his partner had predatorized him and left town,  leaving dozens of injured patients lining up in the office, with nowhere else to go. I am not going there again, not this time, not ever, he thought. He convincing staff to limit his schedule to 25 patients, and dialed down his efforts to make patients feel accepted and restored to wholeness. He settled into just doing what he was trained to do.

What a shame. Doing the best thing can hurt you. Medicine in America is not in the business of giving people the warm fuzzies – it’s all chop wood and carry water, and getting paid well. Okay, that will do…for now.