The Examination

The first thing Bill noticed on that Thursday morning visit was how cool this physician's hand was. It wasn't that damp coldness some have—intimating fear and tension, no matter how reassuring the words. No, this was a mild coolness, harder to read—dry, neutral, yet shrinking the skin away slightly, a hint of discomfort. After the handshake and greeting, Bill absorbed the room's ambiance—examination areas varied from sterile to homey, and a careful look yielded a world of information. He valued any visual evidence of creativity—photographs, drawings (a sculpture would be asking too much). Any artwork was helpful, even if purchased rather than made.

Next came the examination—that was why he was here. There were a lot of issues to be raised, a lot of problems to think through, hard work ahead. The initial presentation was always the same: Bill with his symptoms—how long and where, how much and how often. Each visit had a life of its own, depending on the direction the healer needed or wanted to go. Most basic was the history—a world of information could be conveyed, clarified, implied, or revealed in the line of inquiry. Some asked little, or almost nothing, but conveyed and received so much through their other powers that it wasn't a drawback. This physician …