“Healing from Heaven will astound you with its remarkable stories of emotional and physical healing through connection with those on the “other side.” Dr. Daniel Ryan is a gifted healer and medium who takes the reader on a journey of self-discovery and transformation. This book will convince you that the soul never dies and lives on in all of us.”
Susan Heim, Author and Editor for the best-selling
Chicken Soup for the Soul series
“Healing from Heaven is for anyone who has grown to suspect that there is more to this existence than what meets the eye. Daniel’s straightforward explanation of dimensions mystics have long understood, but scientists are only now beginning to detect, is an accessible, fascinating handbook to peeling back the layers of our loud world and experiencing our true delicate reality for yourself.”
Mark DeCarlo, TV Host, Author, A Fork on the Road
“Daniel is a gifted seeker, healer, and writer. Healing from Heaven shares his journey into metaphysical realms and gives voice to the deeply healing power of our own sensitivity and creative awareness.”
Chris Paine, Director, “Who Killed the Electric Car?”
“… a true healer in every sense of the word.”
Randy Rogers, Author
The Key of Life, A Metaphysical Investigation
“Twenty years ago I suffered with the idea that being incapacitated was never very far away. Then one day a friend said, 'I’ve met a real healer, you should check him out.'
"Since I met Dan Ryan in 1991, I’ve been free of that idea and all that accompanied it. In addition, I’ve taken great pleasure in telling countless others about my friend, the “real healer.” Every one undoubtedly feels the same sense of gratitude and wonder that I do. Not to mention the elation of being healed.”
Patrick Leonard, Music Producer, (Madonna, Jewel,
Elton John, Pink Floyd, Bon Jovi, Michael Jackson)
“As a western trained physician, I am acutely aware of the limitations embedded in western medicine. Dr. Ryan, a modern day Avatar, blends the world of traditional medicine and eastern philosophy to create a universal love and spiritual healing that we have been craving. Thank you, Dr Ryan, for sharing this incredible gift!
James Peace, M.D.
Physician, Surgeon, Clinical Researcher
Healing from Heaven
A Healer’s Guide to the Universe
Daniel Ryan, D.C.
Published by Transformation Media Books
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 Daniel Ryan
Discover other titles by Transformation Media Books and Open Books Press at Smashwords.com
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Available in paperback through most book retailers under ISBN: 978-0-9845751-0-7
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the foundation of unwavering love
and support of Nicole my wife and sojourn partner;
to my parents Robert and Diane Ryan, for their example
that love and commitment perseveres even in adversity;
and to my beloved brilliant and joyful children,
Jhade and Grace. My love for them is reason to exist.
Contents
Chapter 1: Evolution of a Medium
Chapter 5: Spirit Orchestration
Chapter 16: Journey Through Grief
Chapter 17: Contacting Loved Ones
Chapter 18: Transdimensional Healing
Chapter 19: Healing the Healer
Chapter 21: Now Is the Beginning
Chapter 22: The Power of Prayer
Chapter 23: Earth-Shaking Epiphany
You could say I was skeptical. Dubious. And in Dr. Daniel Ryan’s case, it was a double dose. As a child of a generation that was dubious about the efficacy of chiropractors when compared to more conventional forms of medicine, Dr. Ryan’s healing power reshaped my entire way of thinking and has been treating my family and me for many years now. However, it was how I experienced him on a number of occasions separate from his role as a Doctor of Chiropractic, which I previously didn’t believe in, that altered my way of thinking about life in general.
Comedy is the field I toil in. I’m a writer by trade. I put words in an order with every hope that they hold your interest and make you laugh when spoken or read. It’s a space I’m comfortable in. Drama is outside of my wheelhouse. Mysteries confound me. And the paranormal is something I never took seriously. Communicating with people who’ve passed? Courtesy of a spiritual medium? At most, it was merely a romantic wish as portrayed by Whoopi Goldberg’s character in the movie Ghost. But that began to change the day a family member came back from a session with Dan Ryan and told me that when he was working with her a recently deceased friend of hers made his presence known through Dr. Ryan; who began speaking in the friend’s jargon and had information he couldn’t possibly have gotten through any other source.
Subsequently, I had a similar experience when a beloved grandmother spoke through Dr. Ryan and offered me characteristically sage advice at a time of personal crisis. Soon after, I passed the word along to a number of friends (who were equally cynical about such things) who reported that they, too, reconnected with loved ones. They not only gained a sense of closure but were now subscribing to the comforting belief that the word ‘death’ is a misnomer—as life does indeed continue elsewhere when these bodies that house us can no longer do their jobs.
This book describes many instances where Dr. Ryan—a spiritual man, doctor, husband, parent and dog owner—ventures beyond our tangible realm to communicate with those who have crossed over to bring closure and healing to those that remain in this dimension.
And while reading these stories, you will get to know the man I know. The man who has the ability to venture beyond the limitations of the finite mind and the illusion of its security and structure. A man who, in his unwavering commitment to the betterment of others, ushers in a reality beyond your identity, beyond this dimension. An extraordinary man whose only discernible fault, should you ever visit him in his Los Angeles office, is that he does not validate for parking.
Alan Zweibel
New York City, 2011
An original Saturday Night Live writer, Alan Zweibel has won multiple Emmy and Writers Guild awards for his work in TV which also includes It’s Garry Shadling’s Show and Curb Your Enthusiasm. He collaborated with Billy Crystal on the Tony award winning play 700 Sundays and his novel, The Other Shulman won the 2006 Thurber Prize for American Humor. His newest novel, written with Dave Barry, is Lunatics (Putnam, January, 2012).
This is about a journey of the heart. Your journey will be different from mine, and from the others that you read about in this book. But these experiences serve as inspiration and a catalyst to reveal your own divinity, and provide you with the tools to reconnect and sustain your connection with Spirit. Through others’ examples, exercises and visioning guidance on the following pages, you can learn to overcome spiritual and energetic blockages to activate and realize authentic freedom.
I address some of the most fundamental challenges of healing, connecting and maintaining the connection with Spirit. As we move along the path of spiritual evolution, Spirit inspires us from exactly where we are, not waiting until we reach some exalted hypothetical state of “enlightenment,” for that is already inherent in our nature. We live in an incredibly kind universe, yearning at our beck and call to support us in our endeavor of “self-realization.” It isn’t accomplished, but merely realized.
In my humble and modest beginnings, I was completely unaware of my innate potential and the magnificence that we all possess. Much of my attention was based on basic survival and, oftentimes, one day at a time. Although many aspects of my journey were difficult, I can say now with the utmost sincerity that it was all a perfect catalyst for my particular soul’s yearning to express more of itself—and the same holds true for many others with whom I have worked.
Remarkable brilliance and infinite potential are our birthright. That is to say this is not another self-help book that will show you how to apply a formula to be happy or promise that this is the “true” way to enlightenment. Rather, it is an example of how we are all unique, and it will encourage you to find your own way to reconnect with Spirit.
Beyond words, this book holds the frequency and vibration of a soul’s heartfelt voyage toward peace—peace of mind and heart, and the joy that is released as a result of aligning oneself with the pure, unadulterated desire of our souls, to express the love and inclusiveness that are inherent in our nature. It is my intention not only to convey a transmission of healing frequency unbound by the physical laws of the finite realm, but also to encourage you to trust your intuition to provide a vehicle for transformation, to see and act upon the potential that is already within you.
It doesn’t matter who you think you are, or what you believe your limitations to be. By surrendering and opening to the one power, the vitality, passion and creative beauty yearning to be expressed through you will surface. Merely beginning with the faith of a mustard seed, you will begin to see a demonstration of this manifest in your life.
About the Stories
This book is not only for healers, it’s for anyone who wishes to connect with or has a curiosity for the spiritual realm or spiritual awakening. This message is beyond a specific religion, culture or race. It is all-inclusive, as we all have the capacity to become self-realized. Through my experiences in working with thousands of individuals, I have guided many people to expedite their own opening to connect with Spirit and change their lives.
In some chapters, I describe my personal journey to recognizing my soul’s purpose. In other chapters, I write about my experiences with others’ healing journeys and reconnecting with loved ones. Finally, near the end of the book, a guide to help you overcome barriers and activate your own untapped potential is provided. Feel free to refer to the final section for a greater understanding of certain aspects of stories while navigating your way through the chapters.
For clarification, although I have a professional education as a doctor of chiropractic, my role as a chiropractor working with patients is totally separate and independent of my role as a medium and energy healer. The principles of medium and energy healing do not require any specific diagnosis, nor is there any particular condition or disease which is treated. The statements, experiences and opinions in this book are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. Also, please note that the names and locations in this book are fictitious.
Throughout this book, I use the interchangeable terms of Spirit, Love, God, Universal Intelligence, One Mind, Source, and Authentic Self to interweave the interconnectedness of all things. I have chosen stories that may resonate with a greater audience.
Daniel Ryan, D.C.
Los Angeles, 2011
My Story
Evolution of a Medium
Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The strong pungent smell of tanbark stirred my senses. As if waking from a lucid dream I moved my head slightly from the side, the bark pricked the back of my head. A euphoric sensation of increased circulation and neurological stimulation tingled through my supine body. My head was hot and it pulsed loudly. Utterly unaware of how long my eyes had been open, the black dissipated and they came into focus. The sun high in the bright blue sky, shaded slightly with white billowy clouds, pierced my consciousness.
The teacher appeared in my field of vision with a look of serious concern after hearing the account from my friend Billy. “We were swinging from the bars up high and he fell and his head hit that bar on the bottom,” he said. Recess was over and time to get back to our first grade classroom. When the teacher asked how I was doing, “I’m okay,” stammered out. Dazed and head pounding, I attempted to shake it off. An hour later the janitor discovered me sitting on the concrete walkway outside the classroom, my head leaning back against the cool stucco wall. “I’m on my way to the drinking fountain, I’m thirsty,” I said almost as a question. Apparently, I wasn’t okay and upon further questioning I had no recollection of how I got there.
My mother picked me up early from school. By late afternoon there was a lump the size of a baseball protruding from the top of my forehead, I was despondent. Next thing I remember was a bright piercing light being shone into my right eye that woke me. Utterly unalarmed by the doctor or hospital room, that is until I witnessed the grave concern on my mothers face. Due to the severity of the frontal bone fracture, a neurosurgeon was standing by for seventy-two hours in case they needed to open the cranium to release the increasing pressure of the swelling, a critical life or death situation.
Over these three days, as I faded in and out of consciousness, I had snapshot memories, a needle in my arm, a tightening blood pressure cuff around my arm, a kind nurse searching beyond my response to her question of “how are you feeling Danny?” To my fascination, at one point I found myself looking down at my body with wires attached to my head. It was oddly peaceful from this expansive, light and serenely hazy place. I seemed to be floating away and perfectly okay with it when suddenly as if all the air had been vacuumed out of the room, I was thrust back into my body. Fear gripped me with a cold sweat cooling my skin. My scalp hurt where the wires were attached. Stunned by how small I now felt, out of nowhere, a peaceful, loving, tingling feeling held me. I couldn’t see anyone, but I felt the presence very clearly. I was startled by the immediate contrast of emotion. This presence reassured me that everything would be okay and that I would always be safe. This was the first time in my life that I felt such a deep peace in my heart, as if I were connected to everything. Fortunately the swelling stayed in check and I had a remarkable recovery without the need for surgery, even though I had to wear a football helmet to school for three weeks, “just in case.”
This was my first conscious recollection of what I now recognize as my connection with Spirit. As I struggled with challenges in life over the years, I would always remember this connection and call upon it for strength, it had permanently forged a knowing of a power greater than self in my consciousness. After that experience I no longer felt as confined to my physical body and maintained a sense our expansive nature.
As a child, sometimes I felt like a freak. I would see dancing, twinkling lights and waves of energy before me that would warp my field of vision like heat does in the desert. I would see a cloud of energy around a person that felt happy, sad or angry. I remember seeing a man on the street, and I instantly felt sad and defeated. His head was down and shoulders rounded. He had a female spirit next to him. She was trying to get through to him. It was as if she was yelling at him, but he couldn’t hear her. Another time, I saw a woman in a restaurant with all these babies around her energetically. I felt so happy and optimistic. I later found out that she was a neonatal nurse at the children’s hospital. It was a constant challenge for me to simply function day to day without getting knocked sideways by other people’s emotions. My earliest memories were filled with visions and feelings that made it very difficult to cope with this reality at times. I learned to keep this a secret because when I tried to explain rarely did anyone understand. Even though I have never been afraid of the spiritual dimension, the dramatic swings of what I was feeling that had me question my sanity at times. Actually, in retrospect, I realize that interacting with the spiritual dimension always made much more sense to me than the subconscious mixed messages I received from others.
When I gazed upward at the three white crosses in front of my church, I noticed they formed a perfect triangle. They reached for the sky ten stories high as if they were ascending to the heavens. Navigating my way through the paradoxes of my particularly religious upbringing, I attempted to integrate my secular view into this world, but it didn’t always fit.
The youth group at my church provided a safe haven, filled with direction for morals and character. It built a foundation for me to rely upon in my times of confusion. It also kept me off the street where I could get into trouble, as I was known to be a “very active child.” The crowd I was hanging out with at the time was up to a lot of mischief and on the verge of getting into serious trouble that could mark us for life. Their misdemeanors of vandalism, disturbing the peace, and malicious mischief would be the precursors to felony offenses that many of them later committed.
Fortunately, I saw a vision of two completely different paths I could take: one that would continue to lead me down a path of destruction, and another that would be a positive life full of love and fulfillment. I yearned for the latter, but I couldn’t conceive of how I could achieve it. It was my dream, and I reached for it by having faith that my direction was correct. I can see now that Spirit was giving me a bird’s eye view of my choices and showing me that it was within my power to make either one my reality. But there were still pieces missing from my puzzle and, from an early age, I felt extremely confined by the dogma of my religious community. It seemed to me that it wasn’t the whole picture.
As far back as I can remember, I had been trying to decipher what I was feeling in the world. As a child, while in the presence of others, I became accustomed to intuitively assessing the energetic environment, although I didn’t realize at the time that I was tapping into what they were feeling. Not until I grew older did I learn that all the different feelings I had were not all mine.
Many years passed before I would fully understand that the swings I experienced were a combination of feeling others’ emotions, my own skeletons beckoning emancipation, and spirits attempting to communicate with me, at times all at once. This led me on a journey of discovery, the impetus being simply my desire for peace of mind. Acutely aware of my insidious and repetitious thoughts, I sought out answers to quiet the madness. First, I turned to what I had known: prayer, the Bible, and communion with silence. I also became fascinated with spiritual psychology and development books. I learned about world religions, mystics and self-realization.
But where did the intuitive realm and psychic phenomena fit in? Well, it didn’t, not in my family anyway. It was considered flat-out evil, and if you were open to it, you would be exposing yourself to darkness and, most certainly, be possessed by the devil. The stigma my family placed on the spiritual realm created a substantial conflict for me. I became acutely aware of the fact that some of the things that I saw and felt challenged my existing belief systems.
Later, as a man in my late thirties, my mother revealed to me in a conversation that she had spirits come and speak to her from time to time, including the spirit of my grandmother. When I asked her why she never spoke of this before, she simply said, “Oh, you can’t talk about that or people will think you’re crazy.”
She also said that she had known I was a “healer” since I was a baby. My mother was extremely intuitive, but she rarely talked about it. But it was our conversations that finally helped make sense of all of the confusion. It was my mother who provided a foundation of unconditional love that helped me evolve and understand my gift. In the end, I came to the conclusion that I needed to be true to my intuitive direction above all else.
But these and other questions took backstage to a much more critical issue during my childhood; my safety. There was another reason I became highly adept at assessing energetic environments. How could I be safe at home on Friday or Saturday night with a raging alcoholic father wrecking havoc around the house? It was a family secret that he was able to hide as he taught my Sunday school class. My father’s contradictory lifestyle catalyzed my arduous journey of uncovering my abilities. This also provided me a perfect environment to develop my sensitivity. It was a matter of necessity for me as he released these negative emotional energetic patterns, so I learned through experience.
One early October morning, close to 2 a.m., a low rumble of arguing voices filtered through my bedroom walls. I was six years old, and it had been another out-of-control Friday night, which I hoped had been put to rest as the house quieted down. Suddenly, I jumped up to the sound of my bedroom door swinging open and my mother yelling, “Let’s go, Danny! We need to find your father.” She yanked me out of bed, and we raced to the door and out into the night together. In our station wagon, we sped away through the darkness in search of my father. After several minutes, we came to an abrupt stop in front of a bar. The light from the bar’s illuminated red sign filled up the car and accentuated the anger in my mother’s face as she pulled me outside.
I held on in stride, my six-year-old self desperately wanting to be there to protect my mother. She swung open the heavy wooden door with such fury that it rattled the wine and pilsner glasses suspended meticulously above the bar. A whoosh of damp, musky, alcohol-tinged air slapped my face as we crossed the threshold of the establishment.
I gazed down at my mother’s white nursing shoes that she had polished so many times. They had served her so well during all those years of service. I watched as they marched forward into the bar late that night, void of fear. It seemed almost blasphemous for her to be wearing those shoes here in this dark place, where souls were lost on the rocks.
A tightness gripped my chest as my mom let out a stifling, high-pitched shrill, “YOU SON OF A *&^%$@#$!” People in the bar ducked, as if a gun had just been fired over their heads. She pulled me forward quickly, and a button popped off my pajamas. My cuff was sealed within the clasp of her tight grip around my hand.
The bar with the large mirror behind it read, “JACK DANIELS.” I was pleased with myself that I could read it since I was only in the first grade. Must be the owner’s name, I thought.
My mother’s voice cleared our path, which ended at the bar stool where my dad sat. Her wave of anger broke through his calm exterior, nearly knocking him off the barstool. “I’VE HAD IT, YOU SON OF A *#%^&*&.” My father grabbed the bar for balance, his stool now balancing on two legs.
My mother rarely ever swore, and if she did, it meant you were in the worst kind of trouble. My father’s face reflected shock at my mother’s string of cursing. We stopped one step short of my father, and my mother doused his face with his drink. This was the exclamation point that punctuated her statement. Immediately, we did an about-face, heading straight back to our 1964 Ford Country Squire station wagon. I exited in slow motion as my eyes met those of the bartender behind the bar. His eyes were filled with tears. I felt nothing except cold in the autumn night air.
On the other side of the doorway sat our tan station wagon, with the faux wood paneling. The doors had been left open, the engine still running. The light from across the street illuminated the exhaust from the muffler. It had been raining, and a car swooshed by just then in the wetness. I wasn’t sure if my mother’s face was wet from the rain or from tears. I didn’t ask.
On the way home, my mother’s trembling voice finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Danny.”
“Is Dad coming home?” I asked.
“Yes, he’ll be home in a little while,” she answered, not doing a very good job of hiding her disdain for him.
There was an uncomfortable silence at our house over the next week that eventually got swallowed up. The other coping mechanism of our household—laughter—didn’t surface this time. The responsibilities of managing a household with four kids under the age of ten, two still in diapers, ensued. I realized I needed to fend for myself. As a survival mechanism more than anything else, I learned to trust only what was in alignment with my heart. This gut feeling guided me forward in spite of fear.
My dad used to say, “You’ll understand when you have kids.” My parents were completely committed to the selfless service of raising a large family while facing their own skeletons. My dad’s old-fashioned method of discipline inflicted more pain emotionally than it ever did physically. As an adult, I respect and appreciate my father in a much more inclusive, accepting way. And he was right: having kids of my own definitely enlightened my perspective!
Breaking Open
Imagination is more important
than knowledge. For knowledge is limited,
whereas imagination embraces
the entire world, stimulating progress,
giving birth to evolution.
—Albert Einstein
As an adult, I accepted my life’s calling, and I made a commitment to use my intuitive abilities to help others heal. I became interested in helping people fulfill their innate potential by healing the whole person through the physical, spiritual, mental, emotional and ethereal levels. I allowed myself to be guided by intuition and divine intervention. The latter became the catalyst for what I would become.
Having a taste of Spirit only increased my appetite for the divine. My imagination opened the door to this world, and as I grew into adulthood, my intuition became a vehicle for transformation. As my interest in the spirit world grew, moments of self-realization came to me as Zen experiences. The universal mind had always been expressing itself through me, but I only became aware of it incrementally. There was a log rhythmic effect happening as my interest grew, as if I were waking up from a dream and guided by an invisible force. During the process, I was in a state of “no mind,” with the universal energy from the infinite realm streaming in the now. I was letting go and learning to trust, to have faith in my intuitive direction, which guided me to let go even further.
Once, I told a friend that you didn’t need to go to India to have a spiritual experience, but when my church announced a trip to India, I wanted to experience this kind of spiritual expansion as well. This was not the church from my youth, but one called Agape International, facilitated by Reverend Michael Bernard Beckwith and his wife, Ricky Byers Beckwith. As soon as I heard about the trip, I knew I had to go. I was ready to see it all; I was ready for India.
When you have the intention to open and reveal the depth of your soul’s vastness, the universe conspires in your favor to bring you into alignment with your soul’s desire for expression. As we take one step toward our divinity, the universe responds tenfold in our favor. Before my trip, I entered the following message from Spirit into my journal:
Eyes pierce the veil in the absence of fear.
Feel the earth between your toes daily to allow your mother to embrace you.
As your heart breaks open, allow your joyous tears to quench your newfound thirst.
And when the breeze of Spirit kisses your face so dear, know India’s sweet nectar is here.
My trip to India shattered some of my belief systems. People say that you don’t vacation in India, you experience it. Believe them. During my trip, I set my intention to the universe to see the world anew, to jump off the cliff with reckless abandon, free of all the constraints and limitations of this world. I wanted to experience pure intimacy and fearless love in all my relationships. I was mentally ready and spiritually prime for India. Before I knew it, I found myself at the airport ready to board a flight to Delhi with a small group of spiritual seekers.
Reverend Michael, as he was affectionately known, had been one of my spiritual mentors for years. For those who know of him, he is a great visionary and mystic, and for those who know him personally, he is a compassionate, kind, loving soul as well. I had decided to eat only vegetarian on this trip, do yoga for an hour a day, and mediate for an hour, morning and night. I did everything that I could to be completely present during the trip. I wanted answers to everything.
My prayer and intention to the universe was that I was ready to see it all. I was ready to trust that the universe would work in my favor to fulfill my greatest potential in this incarnation. If you have similar intentions in any way, shape or form, put on your seatbelt because your wish will be granted. But be aware of one caveat: your “life” as you currently know it may blow up and turn inside out in the process.
I was now a Doctor of Chiropractic, and the thought of potentially being exposed to malaria, yellow fever, typhoid or all the other diseases in this exotic Petri dish proved to be extremely unsettling. Was I over-informed? Or did I just need to trust? The answer turned out to be both.
Leaving the airport terminal in Delhi, the pungent air repelled me slightly. I felt as if I were in the middle of a National Geographic documentary as I stepped into this ancient, mystical country. Upon leaving the main terminal, throngs of people in a sea of brightly colored saris desperately reached out to us from the railed-off walkway. We were quickly identified by our guides and ushered onto what looked like a 1970s transit bus.
As we turned left onto the main thoroughfare, a man lay motionless in the middle of the street, with a motorcycle toppled over beside him. The traffic continued indifferently, navigating around him. Swarms of motorcycles, bicycles, small cars, and various other unrecognizable forms of transportation ebbed and flowed within inches of one another. This was my introduction to the vast difference between personal space in America and personal space in India.
Later, we arrived at our five-star hotel (equivalent to a three-star hotel in America). After our long journey, I decided to go for a run through the streets of New Delhi. It became uncomfortably obvious how isolated my life had been until then. The moment I emerged from the hotel, I witnessed the hopelessness of a shoeless boy, standing atop a pile of waste and begging. The stark contrast to my American life became the melody of the emotional swing I would hear throughout India. Desperately attempting to maintain my false sense of sterility and safety, I had yet to “arrive” in India. Back at the hotel, I blew my nose, and black soot filled the tissue. India has a way of expediting catharsis by assaulting the senses, but I was up for the challenge.
That evening, a few of us ventured out to an ancient Hindu temple where the priest performed prayers and darshan (Sanskrit for “sight or beholding”). As I entered, a petite Indian man placed his thumb to my forehead, leaving a red dot the size of a nickel, which signified I had attended services. I listened and swayed with the crowd in the small 300-year-old temple. The priest sang his Hindu prayers, and while I didn’t understand what I was hearing, something about them still moved me. It was magical, and I could feel myself letting go, the power of the sacred hymn disintegrating my barriers. It didn’t even bother me now that my personal space no longer existed. My space within had expanded.
Humming along in the bliss of the moment, I heard the words of the hymn leave my mouth in Hindi. Tears rolled down my face, and the pulse of the melody swayed my body, free in the beauty of it all. After a few moments, my logical mind slapped my face, protesting, “You don’t know Hindi!” My body froze. I took a quick inhale. “Okay, relax! You’re just experiencing something different. Go with it,” I told myself.
It was too late. My mind had taken me hostage once again. But I knew that this was my process of unfolding. When I left the temple that evening, my soul naked to the world, the heart of India flowed right through me. My vision extended beyond the poverty, disease, and filth of the land, and it all felt so beautiful. That was the moment I arrived in India.
In the ensuing days, we traveled through Northern India, eventually arriving in Katmandu, Nepal. There, our group met with another small affiliate church group to share experiences. We paired off around the room, and a woman sat across from me on the floor, cross-legged. Our eyes locked. She described a table she had seen that day in the bazaar with intricately placed mosaic tiles on the top. She had been so moved by it that she was thinking about having it shipped home from Varanasi, India, the holy city. This was day twelve of our two-week journey through Northern India and Nepal, meditating, practicing daily yoga, praying and chanting throughout sacred temples. The fruits of my intention were about to be revealed.
Immersed in the moment, I listened intensely, and my mind was completely still. As I watched the woman’s face, it suddenly disappeared. It was all I could do not to jump out of my skin. A tsunami of emotion washed away what I thought I knew. I shuddered and sobbed, as a river of joy emanated from my core, shattering many limited belief systems on its way. I witnessed a transcendental beauty that I had never known; a veil lifted, revealing the infinite vastness of all things where her face had been. I continued staring in amazement into this infinite realm. Then, out of nowhere, my face appeared where her face had been. My body began an involuntary sobbing of elation. I became weightless, and time expanded somehow. When it was my turn to share, all I said was, “There is nothing to say,” as the tears of joy fell from my chin.
Our group of thirty people then gathered to make an inner circle and an outer circle as we rotated around, greeting one another. What I saw was a beauty beyond human understanding: I could not see anyone in the room as separate from me any more than my own hands or feet. This was a feeling of total oneness with all people, places, and things. All feelings of competition, accumulation, and separation seemed ludicrous and left me immediately.
After a few weeks in India, I came to expect the unexpected, and I looked for miracles everywhere I went. I stopped defining them, and my “little self” dissolved in the vast sea of energy. All people, places, and things became the flow. I witnessed them more, everywhere I looked. I had entered the fourth dimension.
Oneness
Your work is to discover your work
and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.
—Buddha
In India, I learned that a vital component in breaking through belief systems is addressing the obstacles that you must overcome when communicating with other dimensions. First and foremost among these obstacles is intention. Intention must be crystal clear. Spirit has a way of opening us up from where we are, and you may find that your desires change as you expand in consciousness. We manifest our own reality. In other words, if you want to know what you believe, look at your life.
Initially, this may sound a bit callous, but to truly be empowered and step into your infinite potential, it is imperative to be bold and set fire to your imagination, to allow your soul’s desires to come forth. It is futile to focus on what you already see manifested and attempt to change it because you will simply manifest more of the same. Changes will only come to fruition if you hold the feeling of that which you desire. For example, when you have the experience of a feeling, such as being in love, you can access that feeling in your being and let yourself continue to feel it regardless of whether you are currently in love or not. By holding this feeling in your imagination, you bring your energy into alignment with that which you desire to create in your life. The biggest problem is that you may not realize how powerful you are. This is why it is important to be aware of what you believe and what you think, because you will create what you believe.
Our creativity and imagination come through the same Source. Therefore, it is important to allow our imaginations to be vehicles for seeing our potential. The soul is always seeking to express itself, and reaching your potential is a matter of learning how to listen. You need to believe it before you see it, not see it and you’ll believe it. Where your attention and intention are ultimately will be what you manifest in your life.
The fact is that we are always manifesting, whether it is conscious or unconscious. We are pleased when we see that our dreams are coming true, but disillusioned and confused when undesirable qualities appear in our lives. An illuminated or self-realized being is someone who is manifesting from the here and now, completely conscious of the choices he or she is making.
This is done by illuminating outdated belief systems and becoming a clear channel to facilitate change. We don’t need to acquire anything; we just need to get out of the way and let our Authentic Self come forth. Stagnant energetic patterns in the physical body that correlate with fixed belief systems can manifest unwanted results in your life and give the sensation of being “stuck” or in an “endless karmic loop.” One definition of insanity is repeating the same actions but expecting different results.
By clearing out stagnant belief systems and aligning yourself with your soul’s desires, you can create consciously and realize your true potential. This becomes a vehicle for a cathartic transformation to authentic empowerment and happiness that is unrelated to external circumstance. It is extremely difficult to communicate with other dimensions and realize your full potential when you have the constant distraction of incessant unconscious patterns plaguing you. (I explain in greater detail how to eradicate these patterns in a later chapter, “Healing the Healer.”)
Beware of the mind’s incessant dialogue that says, “Others may do this, but I can’t,” or “It’s impossible.” This is an attempt by the rigid ego structure to perpetuate a sense of separation derived from its fear of annihilation. Breaking free from the shackles and limitations of the ego, and realizing that you are an expansive soul having a human experience, will bring about the liberation of your soul.
We are all candidates for awakening. By answering the call of Spirit, we can all actively participate in the co-creative process of developing an enlightened society. Recognizing and developing our particular talents and skills and sharing them will benefit the whole. This is not done by allowing external circumstances to dictate our direction unconsciously, but by having a clear intention to wake up through devotion, meditation, prayer, intention and divine intuitive inspiration received as we allow Spirit to guide us. Acting upon our guidance is essential to complete our participation in human evolution.
The Light
Infused with light
A shadow’s flight
The night beckons
But the day has arrived
Sublime surrender its tender touch
Yes, I remember we can’t love too much
A smile opens the door inward
The exhilaration of feeling alive
I lay down my cloak and dagger
I see they have only made me stagger
For I have found the greatest weapon of all
The rapture of the innocent call
For this I am a believer
I am love
The great reveler
—Daniel Ryan
Others’ Stories
Gratitude
Gratitude is the prayer of the enlightened.
—Daniel Ryan
Spirit has a way of guiding us to an awareness of our innate magnificence that is waiting to be realized. As we become more aware of the vastness of our being, a quickening happens. Choices are more obvious, negative or addictive habits are less interesting, and our attention shifts, which alters our perception of reality, as we have known it. This new reality comes with the gratitude of appreciating the miracles that are ever present all around us, and that we may have taken for granted previously. The sun rises and warms the earth. Photosynthesis provides food and converts carbon dioxide to oxygen. Physiologically, the body converts oxygen and food to create energy via a chemical reaction, releasing CO2 as one of the by-products completing the cycle—one of an infinite number of miracles occurring constantly. When we focus on the incredible things that are happening all the time, it raises our vibration. By raising our vibration, we are able to experience a knowing of the great synchronicity of life, a knowing that surpasses human logical understanding. Hence, that person you may call a fool wearing a huge smile with an eternal sparkle in his eyes knows a secret. Gratitude is the prayer of the enlightened.
Mind Reader
Early on as I began working with many people, I had the unique opportunity to hone my intuitive skills. A friend of mine, Virginia, who worked as an energetic body healer, strongly encouraged me to “play with the energy” to see what I could feel. During a session with Virginia, I placed my hands about six inches above her to see if I could feel anything. I moved them around, and I felt a distinct border to an energy field.
As I continued with my eyes closed, I saw a man in a dark cloak and large black-brimmed hat come forth and continue past. My attention went to a river over which a golden ball of light was suspended. I felt an urgency to help release this light. As I helped free this golden ball of energy, it moved up and away, and for some reason I didn’t want it to go. The ball of light then said to me, “It’s okay. It can happen that fast.”
This whole process took about two minutes as I stood next to Virginia, supine on the table. I opened my eyes and asked Virginia how she was doing.
She opened her eyes and asked me, “How are you doing? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Well, tell me, did you see or feel anything?” I asked.
“Yes, I saw this beautiful ball of golden light rise up and hover over me for a while before it went up and away.”
Saying that I was intrigued would be an understatement. I’m still not sure about the true meaning of that incident, but I’m sure it was some kind of lesson to help dissolve barriers. I understand now that Virginia came to help nudge me along in my development. I started consciously tuning into the energy of my clients and within a couple of weeks, six different spirits came to me in one day to convey messages to clients. I had always felt them around and felt people empathically since childhood, but now I began to intentionally focus my attention to try to make sense of it all. I was having a blast, fascinated by this vast sea of pliable energy. On some level, I believed I would never know exactly what it all meant until the following realization that it was real slapped me in the face.
The Brother
The first time I saw Sari, she reminded me of a little wounded bird trying to find her way out of a cage. We met in a class that focused on deepening one’s connection to Spirit. After the lecture, we would separate into smaller groups of five or six, including the facilitator. In this intimate setting, it was safe to see and be seen. I instantly felt connected to Sari, and I wanted to help her heal. We became fast friends and worked on some projects together for class. She eventually came to me for help. As we began a session together, her tears washed away her story of emotional abuse that had festered deep within her being since early childhood. According to Sari’s analysis of her own psyche, she never received the validation from her parents that she needed to form a solid self-esteem. Sari felt compelled to continue her journey of self-discovery to better her life experience. Our mutual trust served as a catalyst for what was about to happen.
A few minutes into our session, the back of my neck began to tingle. This was a familiar tantalizing sensation that alerts me to the presence of a spirit. I began to see the image of a small man. Everything about his head and face was round, the kind of roundness that is the result of a lifetime of giving and the blessing that is received through selflessness. His warm voice poured into me like hot tea, loosening my shoulders instantly. He said his name was Heimy, and that he was Sari’s maternal grandfather. I enjoyed his presence. It was comforting, like a smile from an old friend. I answered him telepathically with a question.
“What kind of name is Heimy anyway?” I had never heard this name before. I thought it seemed odd. If I was going to let his presence be known, I wanted to be sure that I had it right. Apparently, it was an eastern European name, more common to his generation. He insisted that I heard him correctly, and wanted me to let Sari know that he was here to talk to her.
“Does your grandfather’s name begin with an H?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “both of my grandfathers’ names began with J.”
“Well, this spirit is telling me his name is Hei-my.”
“Oh, yes, Heimy, that’s my great-grandfather’s name. Actually, I didn’t know him that well,” Sari explained. Later, she discovered from her mother that Heimy actually was her grandfather’s name, not her great-grandfather’s.
“He would like to talk to you about your family. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You will be the catalyst to change your family matrix and the inspiration to help expand their consciousness,” Heimy said.
Sari looked exasperated as she pleaded, “Do I need to move back home to do it?”
Heimy laughed, and then confidently replied, “It’s not what you do physically, so much as the energetic shift that you make internally.”
Heimy’s laughter eased the tension, and as he relaxed, it became easier to understand him. In my experience, there’s a learning curve for spirits to communicate as well, for they need to slow down their vibration just as I need to speed up my vibration to meet in the middle, almost like tuning in a radio. If forced by either party, it decreases the quality or breaks the connection.
Heimy continued, “Having the intention put into action is important, although, ultimately, your action needs to be in alignment with your soul’s intention for unity for it to be effective.”
Heimy showed me a small, curly-haired black and white terrier. He said that her mom really loved her dog.
“Oh, that’s Jessie he’s talking about, my mom’s dog. He just recently passed. That’s incredible. Do you see him?”
“Yes, Jessie is there with Heimy, and he wants you to let your mom know that he is being well cared for. Your mother was devastated when Jessie died.”
“Yes, she was,” Sari sighed.
Heimy continued, “You may not know this, but your mother has been suicidal many times throughout her life.”
Sari’s shoulders reached for her ears, and the tears began to flow down the temporary furrows the pain had sculpted in her face.
“And your aunt, she is very angry at life. Don’t take it personally. There’s much healing to be done in the family because this craziness needs to stop with you, Sari. You’re the one with the strength to begin it.”
Sari looked exasperated with the request. As Heimy’s energy began to fade, he mentioned one last thing, “Oh, and ask your mother about your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother,” Sari said incredulously.
“Well, you do. Your mother had him a year and a half before she had you. She put him up for adoption. You should talk to her. It will help both of you. I’m very proud of you, Sari,” Heimy said, before his energy receded completely.
A bit overwhelmed by the disclosure of the secret of her brother, I stumbled through my words to Sari. “You should verify what he said for yourself. I’m just the messenger,” I advised.
“Thank you. Yes, I’ll find the right time to talk with her about it.”
We were speechless for a moment, gazing at one another, hearts wide open, smiling, bathed in the transcendent charge thick in the room. I inhaled deeply with reverence of what had just occurred.
Several months passed before I received a call from Sari. She called to recount a recent visit she’d had with her mother.
“You’re not going to believe this, Daniel. We visited a spa in the hot springs. I began to tell my mother about you and Heimy. You were right. My grandfather’s name was Heimy, not Joseph, my mom explained. I told her about the dog and the other things Heimy said, and she seemed entertained by the whole story, but didn’t seem to take it too seriously. I was relieved that she was able to hear it without thinking I was crazy.
“It wasn’t until later that night after dinner that I mentioned the other part, the part I was afraid to ask. When I mentioned a brother, my mother became stone silent, the kind of silence that screams so loud it’s paralyzing. Now, I thought, she really must think I’m nuts, so I made a disclaimer: ‘It doesn’t necessarily mean literally. It could mean a symbolic brother, or a miscarriage or something like that.’
“My mother said, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
“It was silent all the way back to the room. Once inside, I finally said that I was so sorry I had brought it up, but I knew there was something to it. Mother cried for quite some time, and after a while, she began to speak again.
“‘I had a son when I was seventeen and gave him up for adoption,’ she said. ‘No one but my stepmother and step-aunt knew about it. And neither one of them is still alive. So no one knows. Not my sister, not your father, no one!’
“We both sobbed as she told me the story,” Sari said. “My mother began to speak again after catching her breath: ‘It was like another life, one that I had buried, until my dog, my baby Jessie died, and it brought up all my loss.’
“Out of nowhere, my mother’s pain seemed to ignite again. ‘It’s none of their damn business! I’m mad at those spirits for poking into my private affairs,’ my mother protested.
“Now, it was my mother’s turn to feel bad for burdening me. She has suffered through so much loss and pain, and I felt bad for bringing it up. But I know it helped,” Sari said. “Her face looked as though a burden had been lifted.”
In a subsequent session together, Sari’s grandfather made his presence known again, and he told me a name and a location for her brother. When I relayed this to Sari, she responded, “I would love to meet him, and I hope he seeks us out. My mother said that if he found us, she wouldn’t reject him, but she wouldn’t go searching for him either. I feel I must do the same out of respect for her.”
Sari told me that since the day her grandfather first visited her, she still feels his presence once in a while, almost as if some door has been opened. Since that time, Sari found her soul mate, and they started a family together. Sari and her husband, Jimmy, now have two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. And they did end up moving back to be close to Sari’s family. Sari told me that it’s not all that she had hoped it would be, being that close to the family, and that they’re still working out many issues. But she’s happy that her kids can grow up knowing their grandparents because family is family.
This episode blew me wide open. It caused my neck to lock up for two weeks. After I spoke with Sari, I realized I couldn’t have been reading her mind because she had no knowledge of a brother. Suddenly, all my beliefs about life and death were up for re-evaluation. Over the years, Spirit has continued to nudge me along in spite of my resistance and doubt. Now that I’m comfortable with conveying the messages, the beauty of the healing can speak for itself.
Spanky
Telepathy is a phenomenon that occurs when we experience a break in the normal mind chatter and become available to hear communication beyond the five senses, as in the case of my client who brought her dog to see me.
The door opened, and he walked right up to me as if to say, “All right, let’s do this.” He looked like a cross between a Rottweiler and a pit bull. He stood mid-height, solid muscle and sparse short white and brown hair, and weighed about eighty pounds. Spanky had a rough beginning, his owner, Jakki, relayed to me. Apparently, he had been used as bait in dogfights when he was just a puppy. A gang member gave him to Jakki, telling her that this puppy was too sweet to be involved in that sort of thing.
It was love at first petting since then for the past eight years. Jakki was being treated herself for some blocked energy issues. She mentioned that her dog had problems after being kicked by a cow on a camping trip. The veterinarian reported that he would only get worse in time, and there was nothing more he could do.
Jakki brought him to me to see if I could help after I had mentioned that I had some experience with animals. I placed my hands on his neck and chest. After a moment, I felt a huge gush of energy being released from his chest. He immediately laid down and fell asleep. It felt as though he had released the weight of the world. Jakki later reported that his legs were doing better and asked if she could bring him in for another session.
I knelt down on the floor and once again placed my hands on Spanky, and I immediately heard him say telepathically, “She moved my bed, and I don’t like it! Please tell her to put it back and stop moving things around the house. It’s making me nervous. Tell her I’m a lot more sensitive than she thinks, and I need more of a consistent schedule.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I had been communicating with spirits for years, but I had never had an animal communicate so clearly with me. I slowly looked up at Jakki and asked her, “Did you move his bed?”