Chapter 19 Wisdom of the Healer

First, it must be thoroughly clarified that the role of a spiritual therapist is extremely subtle and complex. The therapist, and those they help, often face the same fundamental dilemmas. A therapist is merely a technician; they can pretend, or deceive themselves, that they are a "master"—this is precisely the greatest danger of this role. But with some basic insight, the situation becomes entirely different.

The therapist's function is not, in essence, "curing." A true therapist understands that healing is not an act of "doer." Healing occurs through the therapist; what the therapist needs to do is to "empty" the ego. The less the therapist exists, the smoother the flow of healing energy. The whole, or the universe, is the true healer. A sick person has simply built a barrier between themselves and the whole, losing connection. The therapist's function is to assist in restoring this connection; the therapist themselves are merely a medium.

Being a doctor or therapist is not an ordinary profession; it involves people, not repairing machines. It requires deep meditation, humanity, humility, and simplicity. Those who treat patients like mechanics treat vehicles are not the right people. They cannot feel the patient's soul; they only treat the symptoms, not the person. When you are dealing with precious, irreplaceable lives, you must enter with utmost reverence. Be a medium of divine healing energy, not merely a "doctor." Let the patient be present and have deep respect for them; let God be present and allow the energy to flow through you with prayer.

I recall the words of a great doctor friend. His life experience taught me that the doctor's function is not to cure the patient. The patient heals themselves; the doctor merely provides an environment of love, instills hope and confidence, and restores their will to live. All medicine is only secondary aid. If a person loses their will to live, no medicine can help.

The same applies to spiritual therapists. A therapist doesn't treat psychological problems; they create an atmosphere of love. In this atmosphere, people can safely open up their repressed unconscious content—imagination, repression, illusion, desire—without fear of ridicule, and with the assurance of compassionate and loving acceptance. The entire group should function as a therapeutic space.

Therefore, the therapist is merely a facilitator. He brings together those experiencing psychological distress, carefully guiding them to ensure the process doesn't go wrong . If he can support them with concepts, insights, or observations, he must clearly state, "This is merely my knowledge, not my experience"—unless he truly possesses that experience. If you are sincere, authentic, and honest, you will never fall into the trap of becoming a master or savior. Once you assume that role without a genuine identity, you are not helping, but exploiting others through their weaknesses and problems.

The entire psychoanalytic movement in the world is perhaps the most exploitative experiment in existence. No one is truly helped; everyone is heavily exploited. The reason is that psychoanalysts themselves suffer from the same affliction. Almost twice a year, each analyst needs the help of another. It's a massive conspiracy. Listening to all sorts of madness, unless you transcend the mind and its problems, you yourself will go mad and become afflicted with the patient's affliction. The responsibility lies with you.

The therapist's primary function is to open their own heart before the client opens theirs. Let them know that you are also human, with the same weaknesses, the same desires, the same lust, the same lust for power and money, the same anxieties, the same pain, and the same fear of death. Fully opening your heart will help others trust you, because you are not an imposter. The era of saviors, prophets, and messengers is over. If they appeared today, they would only be ridiculed. People would say, "You're foolish. Save yourself first, then we'll see your light."

Trust arises naturally, without needing to be asked. It's like a mountain breeze or a sea wave. You simply need to be open and receptive at the right time and in the right place.

No one can save you but yourself. I tell you: Be your own savior. But help is possible, provided it comes with love and gratitude—"Thank you for trusting me and opening your heart."

The function of a spiritual therapist is very complex, but the key is that the therapist serves life, not death. He must create value in life by personally experiencing it and by entering into inner peace.

The deeper you delve into yourself, the deeper you delve into the hearts of others. Because your heart and theirs are not so different. If you understand your own nature, you can understand the nature of everyone else. You will understand that you too have been foolish, ignorant, and depraved, and have made mistakes that hurt yourself and others. Therefore, if others make mistakes, there is no need to condemn them. They need to become more aware and then clarify their own understanding. You should not try to mold them into a certain framework.

Thus, becoming a therapist becomes a joy. You gain insight into the human heart—the most hidden depths of life. By understanding others, you also understand yourself better, creating a virtuous cycle. You open yourself to your patients or students, and they open themselves to you, which helps you to open yourself even more, and in turn, helps them to open themselves even more. Soon, there will be no therapists or patients, only a loving and supportive community.

A therapist is not a successful therapist unless his ego dissolves into the group. This is my principle.

The therapist is not a true "therapist," because he is not the "doer." Healing occurs through him; he simply needs to empty himself. To be a therapist is essentially to become "non-existent." The less you are, the smoother the flow of healing; the more you are, the more blocked the channel. The whole, or God, is the therapist…

A sick person merely erects barriers between themselves and the whole, causing a break in the connection. The therapist's function is to restore the connection, but they are only the medium; the true actor is the whole.

Being a doctor is no ordinary profession. Medicine is not just about technology; it involves people. You're not repairing machines; it's about love...

You are dealing with human life, which is a complex matter. Sometimes mistakes can be made, leading to loss of life. Therefore, practicing medicine requires a state of deep tranquility, with humanity, humility, and simplicity.

Those who practice medicine like engineers are unsuitable. They disregard the holistic approach of body and mind, failing to connect with the patient's soul. They treat symptoms, not the person. Technical experts are always certain, but when it comes to people, certainty is impossible. Hesitation is natural, but must be carefully considered, for precious lives are at stake—life we cannot create, and once lost, is gone forever. He is a unique, irreplaceable individual. You are playing with fire, hence the hesitation. Enter into it! With utmost humility and profound reverence for the patient. In healing, become a conduit for divine healing energy, not merely a doctor. Let the patient exist, revere the patient, do not regard them as objects. Let God exist, with deep prayer, let God flow through you to reach the patient. The patient is ill, unable to connect with God; he has fallen far away, forgotten the language of self-healing, is in crisis; you should not blame him, he is helpless.

If a healthy person becomes the medium, they can be of great help. It's even better if this healthy person is also wise, because divine energy only gives you subtle hints, which you must decode. If you understand medicine, decoding is easy. Then, it's not what you're doing to the patient, but God doing it. You open yourself to God and use all your knowledge. It's God's healing energy combined with your knowledge that helps. God never harms; only "you" can. Therefore, let go of yourself and allow God to exist. Enter into medicine while continuing meditation.

Everyone can be a healer. Healing is as natural as breathing. When someone falls ill, it means they have lost their ability to heal themselves and are no longer aware of their own source of healing. The healer helps them reconnect. That source is the same as the healer's energy source, but the sick person has forgotten how to understand its language. The healer is connected to the whole and can therefore become the medium. The healer touches the patient's body, becoming a bridge between the patient and the source. The patient can no longer connect directly, so it becomes indirect. Once the energy flows, they are healed.

If a therapist truly possesses wisdom… for you may become a therapist, but you may not necessarily possess wisdom. Many therapists work continuously, yet they do not know how it happens, nor do they understand the process. If you also possess wisdom, you not only help the patient heal, but also help them become aware of the source of healing. In this way, they not only heal in the present moment but also prevent future illnesses. Then the treatment is perfect, both curing and preventing.

The healing process almost became an experience of prayer, an experience of God, of love, and of the whole.

It seems all religions care about the sick and the poor. Nobody cares about you, your wealth, your greatness and magnificence.

I want to tell you: unless you love yourself, unless you find your own wealth and height, you cannot share love with anyone. Patients need care, but they don't need "love"—this must be understood. Christianity considers this a universally accepted truth—that loving the sick is the greatest religious sentiment, the most spiritual quality. But this completely contradicts psychology and nature. When you love a sick person, you are not helping them recover, because once they are healthy, no one will love them anymore. Illness becomes an excuse to attract love.

You may have witnessed this before, but never truly considered it. The wife works tirelessly at home, is in good health, but upon seeing her husband return through the window, she immediately hides under the covers. She has a headache because her husband won't show affection unless he has a headache. If she has a headache, even if he doesn't want to, he'll sit beside her, massage her, and feign affection with sweet words. He hasn't called her "darling" for months, but when she has a headache, he has to say it—that's exactly what she wants to hear: "I love you, not just today, but forever."

It's strange that you love your children when they're sick. You don't understand a simple psychological connection—illness and love are linked. Whenever a child needs love, he must be sick. Who cares for the healthy child? Who cares for the healthy wife? Who cares for the healthy husband? Love seems to become something like medicine, needed only by the sick.

I want to tell you clearly: Take good care of the sick, but never show them "love." Caring for the sick is entirely different from loving. Remain indifferent, because a headache is not a big deal. Take good care of them, but avoid empty sweet talk; care in a practical way. Give them medication, but don't show love, because that's dangerous. When a child is sick, care for them, but be completely indifferent. Let the child understand that they cannot use their illness to blackmail you. Humanity as a whole blackmails each other. Illness and old age have almost become excuses for insatiable demands: "You must love me because I am sick and old..."

When someone is sick, you show affection…this is the common pattern. Even if you're angry, you won't be angry with the patient. You'll show affection to the patient, even if you don't have love for them; if you can't show love, at least you'll show compassion. But this is dangerous, seriously contradicting psychological findings…

You should love yourself, without wondering if you are worthy. Your very existence is proof enough that you are worthy of love, just as you are worthy of breathing. You don't need to think about whether you are worthy of breathing. Love is a subtle nourishment for the soul, like food for the body. If you are full of love for yourself, you can love others, but love the healthy and the strong.

Caring for the sick and the elderly is important, but care and love are entirely different. The difference between love and care is like the difference between a mother and a nurse. A nurse provides care; a mother provides love. When a child is sick, it's best for the mother to become a nurse. When a child is healthy, give them as much love as possible. Connect love with health, strength, and intelligence; this will benefit a child throughout their long life.

Psychotherapists need tranquility more than anyone else because your work is dangerous. It's extremely dangerous unless you are calm, serene, and unaffected by your surroundings. The rate of mental breakdown and suicide among psychotherapists is higher than in any other profession, a point worth pondering. The rates are indeed high, more than double the suicide rate, clearly indicating the danger of this profession. This is true because you deal with those who are psychologically disturbed and emotionally unstable; they continuously radiate vibrations, projecting their own energy or negative fluctuations at you, and you must listen. You must listen attentively, you must care for them, love them, and be compassionate; only then can you help them. They continuously release negative energy, and you absorb it. In fact, the more attentively you listen, the more you absorb.

Spending time with neurotic or psychotic individuals can unconsciously lead you to believe that this is simply human nature. We become like the people we live with, because no one is an island. Therefore, if you surround yourself with sad people, you will become sad; if you surround yourself with happy people, you will become happy. Everything is contagious: neurosis is contagious, and so is suicide.

If you live among highly conscious enlightened beings, certain parts of yourself begin to resonate with this higher possibility. When you live among those who are very low or abnormal, certain pathologies within you begin to connect with or cater to them. Therefore, being constantly surrounded by patients is dangerous unless you can protect yourself. And nothing can protect you more than meditation. In this way, you can give more without being affected, and you can help more, because the higher your energy, the greater the potential to help. Otherwise, the therapist and the patient are almost on the same level, perhaps with slight differences, but those differences are too small to be worth mentioning.