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Gary Sinclair -
CyberPhysiologist
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Gary Sinclair first became interested in Mind
/ Body / Spirit work after recovering in a year and a half from
about 80% mobility loss from 14 years of Multiple Sclerosis. He
had also slowly gone down to 1/3 lung capacity from birth defects
and other complications. Six months after healing from MS he miraculously
received full lung capacity in fifteen minutes.
He then went on to become a National Amateur Senior Olympic Gold
Medal Figure Skating Champion for the USA and much more. There are
even more miracles!
For 18 years he researched the lessons from his miracles, that related
to all of life. Out of his quest to discover how to help others,
Gary created CyberPhysiology, Mind / Body / Spirit Training. Gary
holds Master Certification in NLP Neuro Linguistic Programming,
Hypnotherapy, and Transpersonal Hypnotherapy, Time Line Therapy,™
Spirit Releasement Therapy, Soul Retrieval, Regression Therapy,
Past-Life Therapy, Bio-Feedback, Kinesiology and much more.
ABH and NATH in 1996 awarded Gary the honor of “Outstanding Transpersonal
Contribution In The Field of Bridging Mind, Body, Spirit.” as the
recognized leader in his field and his dedication to the healing
of others.
Life
Clean Out!™ Empowering a Life Time!, a training program, was created
by Gary as a way of balancing the molecules of emotion when life
seems out of balance. He is the author of five books. Healing
Alex, Your Empowering Spirit, Success ? ?
?, I Need A Miracle! , Your Best Thoughts Got You To Here and
Living In The Land Of La Lar Foo Fue!
Gary currently does private CyberPhysiology training and
schedules speaking engagements through his office in Fallbrook,
CA. (near San Diego). He is a gifted speaker, and may be in your
area soon. Click
Here to Contact Gary using our form.
Changing Your Future . . .
for Healing Success!Photos of Gary:
Top: Age 42 Preparing for SENIOR OLYMPICS
Practicing Solo Death Spiral.
Bottom: Gary on Pole Top Climbed 60 Feet Up 1992 Mastery University
with Anthony Robbins
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Gary Sinclair’s Life Story as told in Your Empowering Spirit
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I was born with defective lungs. In fact, my
condition was so bad that when my parents returned me to the
hospital totally blue with both lungs collapsed, the doctor told
them that I probably would never make it. If I did, based on my
condition, I certainly wouldn't make it through my growing years
with all the deterioration that had already taken place. Somehow
my parents didn't believe the doctor and didn’t convey this
message of desperation to me. As a result, it wasn't long before
the little boy became a big boy and although I had all the
conditions you would associate with a child who had a lung
condition; asthma, allergies, etc., I survived the initial
crisis. For the rest of my young life, I knew the hours of the
day by the pills I took and the days of the week by the shots I
received. I would generally go no more than thirty days without
some type of antibiotic and/or steroids. I would come to know
life as a “reject” and as “defective” with all the humiliation
and shame associated with being different.
True, I lived a protected life. I was not allowed to walk
anywhere alone and all physical activity was kept at a minimum.
I was not to go outdoors in the rain because my parents said I
would "catch a cold!" Yet many times I found a way outside and
without even trying, "caught that cold.” Sometimes I just opened
the window and "caught the cold!" When I stuck my hand out in
the rain, I knew exactly what I was doing. Soon it would be warm
blankets, and chicken soup time. My empowering spirit was
working properly.
I became an outcast in so many ways. I was the one that sat at
the end of the gymnasium with the doctor’s note that said,
“Please dismiss...etc.” In those days, Physical Education was a
required curriculum for all students. In regard to my condition,
no one was more cruel than those I wanted as friends. I was not
like them, not wanted by them, and it hurt. It wasn’t that I was
in a wheelchair or had some great disfiguration that made me
different, it was something that was going on inside me and they
truly had no way of understanding. Little did they know that
just breathing could hurt so. I learned to look at the floor as
I walked from class to class to keep from seeing their eyes.
Somehow life was easier if I could just convince myself that
they were not there. Yet deep down inside, I knew the truth. I
needed them to feel fulfilled.
I did have a couple of occasional friends. One was the shortest,
skinniest runt of the class, while the other was the one with
the misfortune of having his face nearly removed by a big dog in
his pre-school years. To this day I can still see the scars and
stitch marks. Some called him baseball face. Even though he was
good at pitching back the replies, I knew it hurt.
High School Days
I found that every time the pressure of something began to
build, even for such things as tests, my temperature would go up
and my skin would begin to itch tremendously. This had happened
before when we were on vacation in Canada. I thought at the time
that it was a reaction to the sea fauna as I was already
allergic to trees, grass, plants and flowers. Dr. White would
give me shots to make the redness and itching stop. But as time
progressed, he began to realize that if I was made to wait for a
shot somehow my body knew what the end result would be and I
would begin to relax and the reactions would go away on their
own.
What a surprise, as a sophomore in high school the day my
parents took me from Caribou, Maine, to Bangor to see a new
doctor, a hypnotist. He put me in some sort of trance and talked
to me about my allergic problem leaving my body. I did my best
to fool him as I stayed totally awake and heard every word he
said. He told me to go to sleep. Ha! I showed him. One of the
last things he said was something about if this itch and rash
reaction should ever happen again I would only need to run the
backs of my wrists under cold water and it would go totally
away. “Who was he kidding!” I thought. “He certainly didn’t have
this stuff!” However, I did remember and rinsed in cold water
once. The power of suggestion produced undeniable results. I was
surprised when I was able to finish my mid-term exams. This is
one of the first times I recognized the principals of your
empowering spirit at work. And that knowing stayed with me.
Ultimately, the doctor’s suggestions allowed me to swim in the
summer and ice skate in the winter, since there would be people
around at the community facilities. With my new found freedom,
although still not allowed to be alone, I began to work as hard
as I could at both. I learned to swim well enough to get all the
way across the short end of the pool. Thirty minutes later I
would have the energy and breathing capacity to swim back.
Since there was more winter than summer in Caribou, I fell in
love with ice skating. It filled my dreams and aspirations,
regardless of my limitations. I watched the Olympics on
television and drew wonderful stick men that imitated the motion
of what it appeared they were doing. To my surprise, I learned
to spin in circles on two feet. Then finally on one foot. I made
scrap books of every tidbit I could find. I wrote to world
champions. One, Aja Zanova, after I had met her at Ice Capades,
wrote me back. She even arranged for me to get professional
skates from Stubbs and Burt Co. out of England. At least then,
if I wasn’t a professional, I had skates that were. I still have
the scrap books, the stick men figures, the letters and all.
I remember one summer when the whole high school was outside in
the park across from the school for a “fun day.” I managed to
sneak into the line for what would be called the quarter mile
run. I knew that every guy on every sports team in my class
would be in that race with an intention to win. Inside I knew
that I could win if they would just let me run. I wish I could
show you the look on their faces as I beat them all across the
finish line. After that I collapsed trying to get my breath,
however I managed not to pass out. I apologized to the coach
admitting I knew I was not allowed to run. I remember hearing
something like, “Damn Sinclair, why can’t you do that all the
time? We need you on the track team.” Those words became a
reverberating echo of despair. How I wished . . . the track
team. Even typing these words I feel the feelings of knowing
reality as it was at that time. One thing I did know is that I
beat them all and I still have the ribbon.
When there was a club to join or a position to be elected to, I
gave it my all. Yet they treated me as they saw me. Last place
was the norm for me, sorry, we have all the members we need now.
Much to my doctor's surprise, I made it into my teenage years.
Since I was among the shortest in my junior class, there was
some concern as to the possibility of my surviving a growth
spurt before my twenties. No one had told me that yet, however,
so as I stood there third tallest in my senior year, we had much
to be thankful for.
Life as an Award
Just prior to graduation they held the annual awards
ceremony. The principal of the school had called my home the
night before to make sure I would be in school. Was I surprised.
He told my brother to tell my parents that this was something
they should come to. I got my pin for Projector Club, Key Club,
Glee Club, Newspaper Club, Yearbook, and everything else I had
managed to participate in.
Then when I knew the awards were over, after they had finished
all the sports groups, Mr. Hamelin, the teacher that I had
respected the most, took the microphone and began talking about
another award the teachers themselves gave each year. It is
normally given to the student whom they feel has had the most
outstanding impact while at school. He announced that this year
for the first time the decision was unanimous, and that they not
only wanted to give it to this student for his impact in school,
but for the life example that he lived outside of school. Boy .
. . . whoever it was, I was sure thrilled for them. I couldn’t
begin to think of who it might be.
Then he called my name. I sat there stunned. I can=t tell you
how I got to the stage or what happened next. God had found a
way to remind me that I am special. That no matter what I think
I am going through, I am always more than that. God wants that
in your life too. Life is truly something to be lived as an
example or a warning to others. You never know who is watching.
I went on to college, graduated, got married, and started a
family of two fine boys, Daniel and Jonathan. It felt good to
build a life on my own. My wife Anne, Saint Anne as some now
call her, God’s gift to me, would become the support I needed to
create miracles.
Broken Elbow Time
While Daniel was our only child, Anne and I took a group of
teens ice skating at an indoor arena in Marlboro, Massachusetts.
When it came time to resurface the ice, someone tried to skate
between my legs. I say tried because I went over backwards and
ended up with my elbow swollen to about the size of a football.
The doctor showed us three x-rays. The first he called the total
arm, so that you could see the bones from the top middle of the
arm to near the wrist. The second was narrowed in on the elbow.
With the third, he explained that “the cap area looked like a
walnut run over by a steam roller.”
He placed the arm in a wraparound sling and told me something
like, “Whatever you do, do not move this arm as we need to
preserve what is available to work with. We do not want the
elbow to come totally apart. When the swelling goes down, then
we can look at what we need to do to give you some type of cap
that will hold the arm together.” This was a Saturday night. By
the middle of the following week, I had managed to get off all
pain medication, however the swelling was major and it still
hurt.
The Vision
On Thursday night I went to bed, only to realize that I was
just not tired. Without the pain medication, I was also in some
discomfort. Just after midnight, I became aware of what seemed
like a presence in the room. When I closed my eyes, I found a
form coming through the brightness. He wore a white robe, had a
beard, even nail prints through the palms of His hands. When I
asked why he looked like this, He simply replied, “This is the
way you recognize me.” I opened my eyes and noted the time on
the clock.
We talked for hours about personal things I had sought answers
for but had refused to talk to others about. The next time I saw
the clock was four and a half hours later. When we were
finished, I asked could He at least send a bird or a butterfly
or something by my car on the way to work so that I would know
this was real. To my surprise He replied, “Yes, I am going to
heal your elbow.” “Oh,” I said, “That is way too much, just send
a bird or butterfly.” He replied, “I am going to heal your
elbow.” Amazing how we try to add to the wisdom of God.
When I finally got up that morning I told my wife, “The Lord
said he was going to heal my elbow today” as though it was
normal conversation. In the same fashion she answered back,
“That’s nice,” as our Northern Baptist heritage and Bible
training would easily accept this possibility.
At the time, I was a Restaurant Manager in Burlington,
Massachusetts, for a major retail store chain. When I arrived
that day the hostess simply informed me that the State Health
Inspectors had been in the area the previous day, and that I
should be aware that the routine health inspection would
probably take place soon. I said, “Thank You” and headed to the
office area.
The next thing I remember was being on my way home, and
realizing as I looked over to the right passenger seat, that
what I was seeing was the sling that was not to be removed for
any reason. I could hear the doctor’s voice saying, “Whatever
you do, do not move this arm as we need to preserve what is
available to work with.” Carefully I began to apply the brake
and pulled to the side of the road to replace the sling.
Then it hit me. I suddenly remembered that as soon as I arrived
at the office I had gone to the 10' X 10' walk-in freezer and
10' X 10' walk-in refrigerator and totally cleaned them. This is
top to bottom cleaning. I took out the racks and even polished
the walls. Not one employee of this 350 seat restaurant said,
“Mr. Sinclair, you have a broken elbow.” Not one employee said,
“Mr. Sinclair, may I help you?” Not one employee said, “Mr.
Sinclair, this is lunch hour. Don’t you realize we are climbing
in and out of this shelving in order to serve food?” I am still
amazed at what God does to confound us all.
As soon as the car stopped on the side of the road, I extended
my elbow only to find that it fully rotated. There was no pain.
Even the funny coloration was nearly all gone. I was double
jointed again.
The Lesson
Now I cannot say that this experience has been repeated over
and over, however I can say that it happened for a reason and a
purpose. This I find is true of everything in our lives. Here
again I discovered in after-thought that there had been a
definite message. I can remember in my conversation that night
being told to tell all who will listen that the world is full of
people saying, “Here I am God, use me!,” as they lay there,
their arms outstretched waiting for God to miraculously
intervene and do something. I was told that I was to teach
everyone that “Motion creates Emotion,” and that it is through
your emotion that God speaks to you best. The Lord said that he
would love to use all these people. The problem is, He can’t get
them to move! Teach them that it is through their emotions that
I will open and close doors, and that as they head towards the
desire of their heart, if it is not what is right, then through
their emotion I will change their desire. I just need them to
move. Focus on what it is they desire in their life and head
towards it. Then as motion creates emotion, they will know I am
at work within. I guess you realize I never did have any
replacement surgery. I even canceled my return doctor’s
appointment. It didn’t make sense to pay good money to have him
tell me it was healed.
My Biggest Challenge
Well life went on. As time passed, I found myself as Food
Service Director of eight restaurants, (including the one I just
told you about), eleven bakery counters, and six employee
cafeterias covering five New England States. I tried to be in
each one as much as possible on a weekly basis.
It was Valentine’s Day in my early twenties when I sat up in bed
and fell face forward to the floor. I did not know what had
happened. It seemed I could not figure out where up was, and
there was numbness and a tingling sensation everywhere. I
thought maybe it was a stroke. I realized, if it was, it would
be okay, because I certainly had seen people come back from a
stroke. Anne and I had been to rehabilitation facilities and
watched the work they do to bring stroke victims back from
paralysis.
After weeks of testing, especially those terrible spinal taps,
the doctors gave my wife and I the diagnosis. It hit home hard.
MS . . . multiple sclerosis, a debilitating, crippling disease.
They explained that although paralysis had already set in, it
would not be until the next major episode that they would be
able to do long range projections. They did tell me the inner
ear on the left side was severely damaged, and that ice skating
would definitely be a thing of the past.
My eyes were certainly something to behold, as the optic nerve
had been affected. I saw two of everything. With every beat of
my heart, whatever I looked at jumped as if over a hurdle. It
was truly strange to see double of everything and especially
have them not stand still. It made me sick to my stomach.
The specialists could not tell us what to expect next, except
that there would be another major attack, and then they would be
able to give us a more accurate prognosis. This became my living
fear, the next attack.
Now I had good days and bad days. Things did begin to improve a
little over time. Two months out of the hospital, my eyes began
to settle a little, and I started to get really daring about
trying to walk from one place to the next without needing to
have my hands on a wall or another person for support to know
upright.
Nausea was constantly present, and I never really knew whether
the food I ate would stay down or decide to come back up. Anne
learned that if I said I didn’t want any food, not feeding me
was the best thing to do. The floor became such a constant
companion I would often say, “Just leave me here....I am
fine....I just fell down!” My Jonathan would look and smile and
say, “Drunk again?” as he would stick out his hand knowing that
without a stabilizer, I would be staying right there.
I not only had the blessing of the right wife, God had allowed
us two sons that truly supported me through all this and more.
Many a day, they became my hands and feet.
It was Valentine's Day, three years later when the next major
attack happened and the doctors confirmed that a pattern had
been established. They told me that I could expect another
attack every three years and I, My empowering spirit on the
inside, believed the doctors. Every three years on Valentine's
Day I was in the hospital with another major setback. In fact,
there were years when my wife would catch me getting ready two
weeks in advance for my Valen¬tine's Day hospital visit.
One Valentine’s Day Sunday I can remember going to church and
rejoicing that I did not have to go to the hospital. The service
was two hours long and before it ended, I can remember looking
at my wife and saying, “I am losing it. Get me out of here.” As
she looked around for strong arms, I slid to the floor. My next
memory is something like going through the doors of the
Emergency Room thinking, “Oh No! This wasn’t supposed to be
happening.”
Bleached Out Lungs
The lungs had slowly gone downhill, as they had all during my
life. This only added to the complications of paralysis. As if
all that had already happened was not enough, in my early
thirties while employed as a Food Service Director in North
Carolina, I was involved in an accident of sorts. A maintenance
man poured a gallon of commercial strength bleach down a large
kitchen drain as I sat nearby placing food orders. This bleach
went in on top of all the other drain cleaners and openers used
the last few days. Within seconds, my ability to breathe change
without understanding that a caustic gas had been created. Since
I was placing food orders, I just stayed on the phone as it got
worse.
If you read the directions on the back of a bottle of bleach,
you realize you don't mix this chemical with anything. Add to
this the fact that commercial strength bleach is a hundred times
stronger than regular bleach. Needless to say, it took the
doctors two weeks to get the internal bleeding to stop, in what
I had left for lungs. From this point on, medication would be
twenty-four hours around the clock for the rest of my life. As
if the MS was not enough, this I did not need.
As the years progressed, the levels of medication necessary to
keep my lungs in operable condition increased such that I had to
sit down twenty minutes after taking all the medications as my
whole body just shook from the reactions. I felt more like an
addict in withdrawals, without ever realizing that I was an
addict. I was up to four times the dosages that had stabilized
me in the hospi¬tal, and the doctor said that based on my blood
work, the levels would need to be doubled again.
Do or Die
With a worsening MS condition and the increasing medication
levels round the clock, depression became a close adversary. Yet
I knew the truth. As a man thinketh in his heart . . . so is he.
I fought the mental anguish of the inevitable end. At
thirty-six, with the left side nearly gone and the right side
starting to catch up with MS, I realized that if I was to
continue using my right arm, I would need to remove the heirloom
watch my father gave me before his transition. It was a heavy
watch that he brought home from the war in Europe. I sat and
cried most of the day. Deciding that I needed help, Anne said,
“We’re going to see the doctor. You’re not living like this.”
She was right. Maybe a little sedative or something might make
it easier; something to take the edge off to ease those
feelings.
The surprise came when the doctors informed Anne and I that we
needed to prepare for me to be wheelchair bound in the near
future. In fact, he recommended that we purchase a wheelchair
and practice what it would be like for me to be permanently in a
wheelchair. This was sheer terror shock: “Practice being in a
wheelchair?”
I tell you this story so that you can see the two parallel lives
I lived. One in which I was not told everything about my lungs
and without that knowledge of what "could be," I survived, and
the second life of every three years in the hospital, on plan,
on schedule, with what the doctors had told me and I accepted in
my mind "would be."
Now I was faced with a wheelchair in my future. This fact
coupled with a worsening lung condition only made the end seem
to draw nearer. It was more pain than I could bear as my mind
spent five seconds in a wheelchair. With this I reached a pain
threshold. It was time to do or die. "No Way" I said to the
doctor, “No Way,” and those words kept echoing inside my head as
though in a chamber.
I told my doctor that I had visited stroke patients in the
hospitals and had seen the marvelous things they were doing to
bring back mobility even when it was lost by brain damage. I
believed that if they could get it back...so could any MS
patient. “You don’t understand,” he would keep repeating, “You
have MS!”
With even stronger determination, I told the doctor that if he
wanted to join my team and support me, I was going to prove that
this was possible. If he didn't, I would find a research doctor
who would. The doctor joined my team, only after realizing that
I appeared to be completely serious. I was committed to what
many still consider the impossible.
Thank God for Chiropractors
Enlisting the aid of a chiropractor, Dr. Matt Innis, I began
a grueling war within myself and the nervous system that seemed
to have given up. With all the stimulation equipment and extras
like acupuncture, nutritional advice, etc., Matt was exactly
what I needed. He would do what he describes as rolling pin
massages from my toes to my nose, forcing out all the bad blood
that had atrophied in the hun¬dreds of muscle cramps all over my
body, generally three to seven times a week. This was after I
had been covered with soothing warm wet heating pads. My type of
MS was one where the muscles would slowly go to sleep so that I
would be in the same kind of pain you might experience when your
leg goes to sleep and then begins to wake up. I would continue
in this pain for fifteen to forty five days while my muscles
slowly went to sleep. I can remember many times gritting my
teeth and pleading with God to let the muscles finally go to
sleep so that I could gain back enough strength to get on with
the healing process.
My commitment to life and my new found belief that I can heal
was rewarded. I can still remember the day when I lay there
crying, realizing that one muscle group had begun to respond to
all the combined work and the feelings had returned. Dr. Innis
asked if I was okay. I told him, “Stop! Don’t do any more
today.” I realized from then on that I knew that I knew. If one
muscle and nerve center could be made to respond, they all
could.
Belief Systems
I now know that everything we do in life we do based upon our
belief system. Whether we can, or can't is based upon our
beliefs. Our memories from the past get interpreted in such a
way that they allow us to progress, hold us back, or make us
stand still. As I tell you my story, it is important that you
recognize my belief systems. My first beliefs were given to me
by my parents. The doctors supplied the next set of beliefs. And
I bought them. Now it was my turn and the third became “No Way.”
With a progressive lung condition, and now faced with a
wheelchair, I saw the wheelchair as a death sentence, as my
lungs would soon atrophy. My fourth belief was that total and
complete healing is confirmed by the receiving of Holy
Communion. I saw this as a sign, a seal, a covenant of the
completeness of this work between God and I. Now maybe you don't
have the same beliefs. It is important, however, that you
realize this is how I function at the other-than-conscious
belief level. These beliefs were part of the strength that was
giving me the rewards of success. Know that all things are done
unto you according to your belief. This is a wonderful promise.
If you believe you can, you can. If you believe you can’t, you
can’t. Inside of you are the seeds of equivalent miracles.
Communion
One Friday night in my late thirties, I told my wife that
when I took communion at church that Sunday, the MS would be
gone. After partaking of the elements that Sunday morning, I
confirmed to my wife that the MS was gone. Although Valentine's
Day comes and goes each year, the disease has never returned.
When you talk to me ... I know it WILL NEVER RETURN. It is not I
‘have’ MS, it is I ‘HAD’” MS. True, as of this writing I do not
have a total balance mechanism on the left side of my head and
there are a few muscles in the left leg that have not, as yet,
come back, but, you would never know it. I think I could easily
pass any test you would give me.
Remission is the term the doctor wrote on my records in 1986. I
told him he could write anything he wanted because it didn’t
matter to me. When you know that you know . . . you know. I knew
I had had MS and that was all there was to it. How often I hear
the name remission only to think of the word as really meaning
permission. For most, remission as a word becomes the fear of
permission to bring back that which should never be. Your
empowering spirit is just waiting to recreate based on the power
of the law of suggestion.
Now the Lungs
Well, I had the MS taken care of, but now what about those
lungs? The change began the day I went back to the doctor to
have my blood medication levels checked. I needed a new magic
bullet. I shook so much from medicine that I needed the doctor
to find something different. When the results of the blood work
came back, he informed me that not only was there nothing else
he could put me on, as I was already on the best of the best and
in massive dosages, but that he would need to double my current
medication levels. "No Way" I told him as once again the echo
chamber in my head reverberating this message. “Just give me
enough pills so that I can make it two weeks and then if I am
not better, I'll let you double the levels,” I told him.
“You don't understand,” he explained. “With the MS it took a
year and a half to go into remission. You can't do this with
your lungs in two weeks.” I reminded him once again that I had
“had” MS and that I really didn’t care what he wrote in his
notes. I finally got the prescriptions, as well as an
appointment for two weeks later.
Remember, everybody does things based on their belief system.
The following weekend, after hearing a sermon in Ft. Walton
Beach Florida called “Take Your Limits Off God!” I finally
decided that what I really needed to do was analyze my beliefs
on why I wasn't totally healed already. To my surprise, this
introspective thought caused me to discover a very simple belief
that was the key to my problem. I turned to my wife and asked
her, “If you went to the store and bought something that was
broken or defective, what would you do?” She said, “It depends
upon what it was worth?” I said, “A life!” She said, “I would
take it back!”
Remember when I said I was born with defective lungs. That was
it. My problem belief: I claimed that I was born defective and I
believed that when you get something at the store that is broken
or defective you simply take it back or suffer the consequences.
That was the only way for it to be remedied. Ha! Fat chance of
me being returned to a womb so that the process of healing could
be completed. Must be time to change my belief. I began to
search the scriptures. “They that wait upon the Lord shall mount
up with wings as Eagles, shall run and not be weary, shall walk
and not faint!” was my verse for MS. And it worked. I checked
with my church leaders only to be turned off by statements like,
“Well, since this is how God created you!” “No Way” you could
have heard me saying inside.
I was reading the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew one night when
I pictured this throng of people who had come to hear Christ
teach. It was on a mountain top, so he was at the peak and next
to him in a circular row were the twelve disciples, then the
multitude. I realized that the people who get the most out of
any teaching are those who sit in the front row, so I just made
the disciples move over to make room for me. As Jesus began The
Lord’s Prayer in that sermon, he simply turned to me and said,
"Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven! And since you’re
not going up there with MS, what makes you think you must go
with a lung condition?" I said, “What? What?” and He said, “Thy
will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven! And since you’re not
going up there with MS, what makes you think you must go with a
lung condition?" I got goose bumps. Here was a scripture verse
that not only supported healing for me, but for all mankind, and
for every condition. I began to realize that I didn't plan on
having defective lungs in Heaven and as this changed my
thinking, so my beliefs came into alignment.
Communion Again
The following Friday at nine p.m. I told my wife that when I
take communion on Sunday my lungs will be totally healed. Out of
force of habit, I took my afternoon medications with me Sunday
as after church we had planned a trip into the mountains. At
church when it came time for communion, the pastor announced
that God had spoken to him on Friday evening about nine p.m. and
told him that when people took communion that Sunday, lungs
would be healed! Well that was all the boost I needed. After the
taking of communion, I proceeded to the pastor and placed my
afternoon portion of medication in his hands. With a funny look
on his face, the pastor turned my hand back over and said,
"Don't you think you should take these with you, just as a
precaution?" I replied, "Whose faith are we to doubt, mine or
God’s?" With that the pastor kept the pills and GOD completed
the work. It was a funny feeling to begin to breathe way down
deep in the lungs. I called it an interesting tickle. Cavities
that only moments before held no air, now began to fill as the
creative intelligence of the Universe honoring my beliefs began
to complete a mar¬velous, miraculous, transformation.
Miracle
When I went to the doctor the following week, he got a
surprise as he began the routine listening with his stethoscope.
"You have got to understand, this is not possible!" the doctor
exclaimed. Yet, the breathing level was incredible. “Okay
Sinclair... out with it!” I told him the whole story. Finally
from his mouth I heard the words, “This one we have to call a
miracle!” He picked up his pen and began to write.
With alarm in his voice, Dr. Blount began to talk about the new
medicines that he would need to put me on to prevent the massive
withdrawals that I was about to go through. I am sure you
guessed my answer to that ..."No Way!" Do I even have to tell
you the rest of that story, or have you created the belief no
way like I now own as a way of being in this world.
From 1987 on, all medication was behind me to the point where
even taking a vitamin seemed odd. No longer was my hand
searching every four hours for the next dose. Exercise was now
possible. My outlook took on a whole new dimension of
possibility. All my life I was told what I could not do, and
they were right most of the time. Now I could finally decide for
myself and know that I could do.
This amazing, incredible story is certainly one that has enabled
me to go on as a motivational empowerment coach and teach others
what healing is really all about. I have had the marvelous
delight of seeing, hearing and feeling life trans¬formed by
thought, by my belief in myself and my knowledge of the
Universal Intelligence I here ac¬knowledge for me as God. That
power that says life is not to be known as "super-natural," but
as natural done in a super way. It was me using the only gift
that God had given me complete control over ... my thoughts;
thoughts to change my direction in life; thoughts to live
abundantly.
I learned that just as creative intelligence allows you to use
your mind or thoughts to produce disease, so also it has the
answers to our ability to be healed. Simply stated, if the mind
can make you sick, the mind can make you well. Dis-ease in the
mind produces disease in the body.
Skating
To answer your question in advance, can I ice skate? You bet!
Five years later I even took a National Amateur Senior Olympic
Freestyle Gold Medal competing in the twenty-one to forty year
old category. I used my finger tips and the pressure of movement
to help stabilize my balance.
One of those dreams I had as a child was being a solo performer
with an ice show. It is a privilege to say that I did appear as
a guest solo performer for Ice Capades. Ty and Randy were there
as were many other Olympic champions. The local TV network held
a competition at the local rink for advertising purposes with
the prize being a guest appearance. Most knew that a small child
would win. Why should a full grown adult even try? I guess the
answer is because I believed I would win. The panel of judges
said there wasn’t any other choice. Spins, jumps, the works, I
did them all. I still skate today.
Celebrate Life
Celebrate Life was the name my wife, Anne, and I gave the
company. Your Empowering Spirit is somewhat of a composite
understanding of what I teach in "live" Celebrate Life training
sessions. Currently we reside in Fallbrook, California, where I
do Cyberphysiology training. Much of my time is one-on-one
sessions with special emphasis on the Life Clean Out! program I
developed. I was honored in 1996 with “Outstanding Transpersonal
Contribution in the Tradition of Bridging Mind, Body, Spirit,”
by NATH, and ABH in conjunction with the ABNLP.
Significance of Frog
My life is dedicated to giving, to helping others heal
themselves and our Universe. On my hand I wear a large FROG ring
as a sign of my commitment to Future Results Of Growth in other
people. It is for that purpose in life...giving...that I write.
My Commitment
When I was married some thirty-five years ago, everyone who
was there heard me sing to Anne as we held hands after saying
our vows. The words came from a famous prayer by Saint Francis.
Although you are saved from hearing me sing, the resulting
commitment still lives in us.
Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let us sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.
Oh Divine Master, Grant that we may
not so much seek,
To be consoled, as to console.
To be understood, as to understand.
To be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving, that we receive.
It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned.
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
If I were to add only one line to reflect our
lives today it would say, It is in giving that we are able to
Celebrate Life. |
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