FROM DIRECT EXPERIENCE
From Despair to Euphoria
Spiritual Transformation in a Very Human Existence
“The natural force within each of us is the greatest healer of disease.”
— Hippocrates, 460–377 B.C.
From early childhood right up until death, we all live through loss, grief, and all the fears that life throws our way. Most of the time, we manage to power through. At other times, life knocks up a storm that puts a spanner into our everyday “known.”
When suffering from low-grade illnesses, we tend to ignore the signals and try to stay afloat. We accept interrupted and irregular sleep, never-ending fatigue, aches and pains that are neither bad nor constant enough to make us stop, a cluttered brain, and a daily overbooked agenda that leaves too little time for balanced living.
We somehow go on mute and only occasionally take stock during these life-challenging moments. It is this blatant disregard that ultimately risks our drowning.
So here go three years of striving, trial and error, euphoria and despair—all in one story.
Chapter One
Facing the Inevitable
As a medical intuitive and someone who spent so much of her time doing things for others, I never expected to take a back seat in my own wellbeing.
It was therefore a true surprise when I came home one day after a long trip, opened my front door, and “perceived” my energetic mirror image in the hall.
Over the preceding decades, I had perceived so many energies while working with my clients that fear of the unknown was actually rather insignificant to me. So I let the image flow through.
It had many dark spots and blockages in various organs and a life expectancy of barely half a year. Yet this image had a very different effect on me because it was my self-image.
Although I was accustomed to seeing such things in others, I had never seen myself in that light.
On that fateful day, I had to face the inevitable: this body of mine was unlikely to last if I failed to give it some serious attention soon.
After the shock had somewhat worn off—and thanks to the very collected and loving advice of friends—I went on a healing sabbatical within days.
Chapter Two
A Liberating Goodbye and a Journey to Healing
Over a three-week period of solitude, I realized that I was facing death sooner than expected.
In a strange way, this realization actually felt peaceful. It was clear to me: when it is over, it is over. Fighting would make it no less so. I stopped fighting and accepted the inevitable.
In turn, this gave me closure and a lightness of being. I said goodbye—albeit energetically—to everyone and expressed my gratitude, knowing that “Thy will be done.”
So that was that.
And then—nothing happened.
Except that I quickly became bored and refused to lie there and die.
Something in me sparked, and I ended up making the following agreement with myself: I would dedicate myself to my own healing in the way I had done for so many others, using my medical-intuitive insights to help me heal.
Thus, my intense healing journey began.
There was no other option but to start coping with everything I had so neatly “controlled” and “put aside” over the years. By then, those hard-to-digest happenings were permanently obstructing the adequate functioning of my whole physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual being.
Needless to say, my journey was filled with wonder, anguish, uncertainty, and a great deal of pain and discomfort of all shapes and intensities.
I had spent years keeping parts of myself under control. Now I had to meet them, face them, and allow them to move.
What had begun as a confrontation with death gradually became a confrontation with life—and with the way I had been living it.
Chapter Three
Being Well and Being Human
I considered myself well, with some temporary physical issues, which most of the people around me knew.
This gave me the tremendous advantage of being less exposed to the toxicity of the fear and anger that sickness can evoke in people.
There is an indulgence that we all, as humans, crave: we love talking about our sufferings. Unfortunately, that can also invite other people to release all their toxicity onto us because they have—or have had—similar mountains to climb.
I avoided that exchange altogether and surrounded myself with active, healthy, positive people.
Being “sick” might have the advantage that people bring you things such as soup. Take it from me, however: that lasts only a month—if at all.
My challenge was simple and yet ultimate:
I was determined to be well, not sick.
At my father’s passing, I was privileged to “visually” witness the ultimate: all of his essence, or soul, became integrated with the ALL, while his body was left behind.
This visual confirmation made me believe even more firmly that nothing is ever lost. It helped me set out on my intense healing journey with a lightness of being and a firm belief that we know so little about the miracle of life.
I guess my father knew that too. As a gastrointestinal surgeon, he had framed the saying:
“God heals, and the doctor receives the money.”
I was determined to connect with the healing power of the Collective—or that “God”—in order to heal all of me.
In my practice, I had time and again witnessed the immense healing power of the body. For as long as I can remember, I have always felt part of this Collective, God, or the Universe, as I have come to name it.
Being part of all that innately means that everything is provided for and that there is enough for everyone.
I had to reinsert myself into that perfect Universe, fully realign myself with its powers, and, by doing so, rebalance my individual wellbeing.
“Small potatoes,” as they say.
When we change, our body changes.
Gradually, I took responsibility for everything that had happened to me, faced it, and allowed it to leave my body. I refused to drag it along or hide it any longer.
Then—and only then—I found peace of mind and, as a bonus, a well-functioning and happy body.
With each step of emotional healing, clearing, or adjustment, a new physical response seemed to emerge. To this day, I still do not understand the “reasoning” behind all the different stages, but the process transformed me.
Andreas Moritz said it best:
“Health and disease are accurate projections of ourselves, and they mirror back to us everything we are or who we are.”
I would take the liberty of adding:
True healing exists when we face and deal with what we are mirroring.
The emphasis of my healing sabbatical was naturally on alleviating my aches and pains, but its primary focus was optimum health and rejuvenation.
My process was not centered around disease, age, sex, or genetics. It was focused on assisting my body on its journey rather than fighting it every step of the way.
I came to see the body as one well-contained unit, completely conditioned for survival. It knows which organ or system needs to do what, when, for how long, and to what extent. It is also acutely aware of its positive, negative, and even critical tipping points.
Current medical practices might provide insight into how certain organs or systems work, yet we remain in the dark ages regarding how to assist the total body in its healing process. So much of what we know is still centered around harsh and irreversible intervention—in other words, intrusion and attack.
Primarily, I focused on being in the flow of life and on forcing nothing.
I surrounded myself with happy people with non-toxic personalities. I did fun things I had left behind for years. I indulged in the childlike joy of life and continued to experience different people, places, activities, cultures, and countries.
I spoiled myself with a never-ending stream of very simple, precious moments.
The rest of the time was spent in reflection: resting, meditating, watching birds or waves, taking endless walks, visiting specially energized places, and healing.
My purpose was to live. I focused on being full of life and accepting what showed up, flowing in—not fighting—the stream of life.
Nothing was prearranged.
There was no bucket list for me.
Chapter Four
Finding My Own Healing Symphony
I needed to find my own healing symphony.
That is the best analogy I can offer to explain the rebalancing of my body.
Just as a composer makes music by using a specific sequence of relatively simple notes, I had to orchestrate my own healing symphony. I had to find the specific tune, executed in different variations, that reflected the totality of me.
In other words, it was a very individual compilation and sequence, set within an environment of rest, happiness, and reflection.
The true secret and gift of my healing lay in determining sequence, amount, timing, and flexibility.
For me, this worked only within a deeply personalized environment of emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical wellbeing.
After all, it is the person who has lost her wellness—not a generic disease that has simply moved in.
Once I understood that, there was no magic. It was quite a roller coaster.
Searching for optimum health was neither a temporary solution nor a quick fix. I had to do the work and continue doing it.
At first, the whole thing seemed like a cacophony of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual elements, depending on what “showed up.” One week, I could hardly eat. Another week, something somewhere seemed to be functioning better.
I could make little rhyme or reason of it, but I stayed with my intuition over and over again.
When it comes to healing, man often tries to direct a symphony with many instruments but without specific notes.
I set out to find my own “notes” and adjusted as my body directed.
I found health in the absolute simplicity, ease, and repetitiveness of doing the right thing—and letting go of the wrong thing.
Believe it or not, one of the hardest parts was trying to make sense of it all to the people around me. They thought I had gone bonkers and was taking my intuition—or gift—just a little too far.
It took lots and lots of time and involved a very slow unraveling, at a pace I myself could handle.
I learned so much and came to understand, on an even deeper level, the immense workings and healing powers of the body.
Surely, being a medical intuitive helped. Then again, it is extraordinarily difficult to read yourself because you “edit” whatever you do not know, do not believe in, or are unprepared to hear or understand.
That is when I reminded myself to remain in the flow.
When something showed up, I accepted that it had a reason for being there and integrated it into my understanding in one way or another.
I was the one who knew my body best.
Over and again, I accepted advice only when it was fully in line with my own intuition. I did not necessarily know why something would work or fail to work, but I could remain aware of and honor its cues.
I was focused on the ultimate healing of the totality of my body. So-called cures and the threat of dying had no place in my world.
Over the three years, nothing remained fixed. I allowed everything to change as I changed. When one organ or system shifted, healed, reacted, or needed more help, the whole sequence shifted with it.
Emotional issues started to play out more quickly and openly. Mental dogmas began to soften and transform.
A different type of self-love emerged—one connected to a deeper spiritual understanding.
Nature became one of my most constant companions.
Everything in nature was oozing with life, and slowly but surely, so was I.
The slightest breeze on my cheeks, birdsong, or a dog coming to say hello reminded me that we live in paradise. These moments made me focus on the beauty and abundant energy around me.
I interacted with the energy of flowering trees, ducks playing on the water, dogs running after squirrels, sunlight, air, and movement.
It was not merely a mind trick.
It was a practice of returning to life.
Chapter Five
The Secret of Life Is to Live It
For years and years, I had been swept up by the waves of life and had simply kept swimming without finding steady ground.
Sadness, fear, loss, and grief gradually distorted the life I had and left me perplexed about what to do next.
I stopped seeing the signs from the outside until I finally went inward and searched for me.
Once I cared for “me” again, the outside world came alive again.
I appreciated who I truly was—now.
What started for me as a multitude of physical dis-eases turned into a spiritual transformation with an emotional, mental, and physical makeover.
I stopped being a witness who, strangely enough, had become so much a part of the Collective that she had forgotten to participate in her own life.
What I thought would take approximately three months took approximately three years.
“It is more important to know what sort of person has a disease than to know what sort of disease a person has.”
— Hippocrates, 460–377 B.C.
Little by little, I reclaimed the simple moments and became less focused on the overall picture of life that had created distance from me.
This new and “incredible me-life” is one in which I, as an individual, am fully aligned with the Collective without being lost within it.
One who cares about what happens to herself.
One who participates all day long and gives herself the same kindness and attention she gives to others.
One who lives in that balancing still point between herself and the Collective.
Throughout this discovery process, I gradually left my role as a spectator behind and deeply connected with the simplicity of life as a full-time director.
My journey began with the fear that life was ending.
It became a journey of seeing how much of myself I had set aside, how far I had drifted from my own life, and how profoundly I needed to return.
I said goodbye to everything.
Then I became bored with dying.
I chose to live.
And by living my new life and finding the new me, I found happiness and wellness.
— Martine Bloquiaux - 2020