Dr. Eric Pearl is an internationally recognised healer and author of a worldwide bestselling book that’s now published in 21 languages, The Reconnection: Heal Others, Heal Yourself. He’s spoken to a full house at Madison Square Garden, presented to the United Nations by invitation, and his seminars have been written up in The New York Times and will be coming to Sydney in May of 2007. Eric ran a highly successful chiropractic practice for 12 years until one day when his patients began reporting that they felt his hands on them—even though he hadn’t physically touched them! For the first couple of months, his palms blistered and bled. His patients soon began seeing angels, colours, light and reporting miraculous healings from cancers, AIDS-related diseases, birth disfigurements, cerebral palsy, and other serious afflictions. This occurred when Eric simply held his hands near them, and continues to this day. In a conversation with Eric, Anya Petrovic discovers how The Reconnection began.
It all started in August of 1993. I was devastated after ending a relationship that I thought was going to be the relationship of my life. One day my assistant suggested, “You know, Dr. Pearl, you’ve been under so much stress personally and with your practice, hiring new people, you need to take a day off and go to the beach.”
While we were on the beach, she wandered off a little bit and then came back and said that she’d found a woman reading cards, and that I needed to have my cards read by her. She pushed and pushed; so I finally went to this woman. Nothing really stood out much from the reading itself, yet at the end of it she told me about some special work that she did and said that “being a healer” – I thought she meant “being a chiropractor” – I needed it.
The woman explained that the meridian lines on our bodies were at one time much more powerful than they are today, because they extended off our bodies and continued out to the stars and planets throughout the universe, tying us in to this entire immense system. Yet, at some point in time, we became disconnected from this system. It all sounded very intriguing, I asked her how much she charged for the work. She said it was $333 and I said, “No, thank you”. She scribbled something down on a piece of paper and said I could read about this in a book called The Book of Knowledge: The Keys of Enoch, Chapter 3.1.7.
I kept thinking about it and thinking about it, and finally I took an extra ten minutes from lunch one day to run into a nearby bookstore to quickly skim through those eight little pages. I immediately discovered that there are three things you can’t do with The Keys of Enoch: quickly skim through it, read it, or understand it. Outside of that, it’s a great book. It felt as if my brain were shifting around inside my head. I left. I came back another day to try it again. That didn’t work. I went back a little later and found that the parts that I hadn’t understood made sense and the parts that earlier I had understood, I didn’t. Finally, I decided, with all the effort and energy I’d been expending, that it might just be cheaper if I let the woman do the work on me. I showed up at her place for the first of the two sessions she said were required.
After the first visit, I didn’t think that anything at all had happened. But when I got home that night, I went to sleep and about an hour later my lamp turned itself on and woke me up. Now I’d had that lamp for a good ten years and it hadn’t selected any other propitious occasion to self-ignite, but there it was. I figured maybe it was a short or some other electrical phenomenon. Simultaneously, however, I knew—don’t ask me how I knew, because I was in the bedroom with my door closed—that somebody was in my house who wasn’t there when I went to sleep. So I got up very bravely with a knife, a can of pepper spray, and my Doberman Pinscher, and searched the house. After about 20 minutes, I realised there was someone there, but I also knew that I would never find them even if I looked all night, and I’d be a wreck for my patients if I didn’t go back to sleep.
I went into work on Monday. Mind you, it was my 12th year in practice, and although no one had ever said this to me before, on this day, seven different patients insisted that they felt someone in the room with us, just the way that I had felt someone in my home. Other patients were telling me that they could feel my hands before I touched them. I’m thinking, “Oh yeah, sure you can”. I asked them to close their eyes and I held my hands over different areas of their bodies, and they would tell me where I was. “Right shoulder. Left ankle.” They just knew. After I would adjust my patients, I would hold my hands near them, or just stand where I was, and tell them to close their eyes and relax for a minute or so to allow the adjustment to set into place. When they’d open their eyes, they’d say to me, “I know you were standing by my head, yet I felt both of your hands on my feet, and I felt another hand on my forehead. I know you don’t have three hands. And my pain is gone!”
For the first couple of months, my palms sometimes blistered and one time actually bled. Patients started talking about feeling people in the room and seeing colours they never saw before. Some of them were seeing angels or entities, or beings. They were having communications with them. I mean, hearing them give them messages, saying things to them. Telling them their names—and they weren’t names that we would recognise like Michael, or Gabriel. For example, one woman’s name, who appeared to more than one patient, was Parsillia.
After a while, although I felt a bit more than left out because I didn’t see them, I realised that something really was going on with some other dimension. Even though I wasn’t consciously able to see or hear it as were my patients, I was at least able to recognise the fullness of it. So I kept doing what I was doing, feeling things in my hands and listening to and observing the healings and experiences of my patients.
My patients started getting up out of wheelchairs, showing me laboratory results where their tumours had vanished, their hearing returned, their vision restored. No, not all of them, but a lot of them. Their doctors and hospitals would call and ask “What did you do”? And I’d say, “Nothing. And don’t tell anyone.” This went over about as big as Nancy Reagan just saying no to drugs. Pretty soon people started coming in from all over saying, “I’ll have what she had”.
Share this post