My Path to Radionics

Once upon a time I had a dream, that Science would prove Radionics to be true. At last, after working in this field for many years, the dream is, I believe, within reach of becoming a reality. But in order to illustrate my journey along the radionic path, I must begin by describing my own pre-radionic experiences which led me to take up this work.

Firstly, what is Radionic Therapy? It is a form of ‘Absent Healing’ by the use of a ‘Force’ or ‘Energy’ in conjunction with instruments. Wlial is this energy and how does it manifest? To the first part of the question Hie answer is that this is unknown. There are, however, some mon and women who, when they have reached a certain point in ‘inner development’ do know what it is, yet are unable to describe it in terms acceptable to science. Others accept its existance intellectually, though llicy too are unable to define it. Still more people can use it without experience or understanding. It has been given many names, e.g. Reichenbach called it Odyle; Reich, Orgone; Paracelsus, Munia; Eeman, X Force; Alchemists, First Matter; Theosophy, Fohat; Alice Bailey, Cosmic Fire.

It is the Energy that manifests itself through all forms of expression on Earth; through physical form with all its complexities — physical, chemical, biological, electrical, magnetic etc, and through the Etheric and subtle fields of which life is composed. It is the Energy that flows Ihrounh I In- hands of a ‘Healer’; which is released through the shape of I lie (ileal Pyramid; through geometrical and numerical patterns. It is, in fact, Cosmic Energy.

It is the manifestation of this immeasureable Life Energy that is measureable. What we are interested in here is how this Energy can be effectively used for the benefit of mankind.

Let us begin where I began. By the time I was 45 years old, I had been the victim of Ankylosing Spondylitis for more than half my life. I looked 65, and life was not worth living. I was a misery to my family and myself, and although I never contemplated suicide, in moods of depression I would often wonder why it had to happen to ME.

This incurable complaint is a painful disease of the spine which causes the sufferer to become gradually more and more bent forward until his spine is fixed in such a position that he is looking permanently at the ground in front of his feet. My doctor father naturally tried every possible treatment for a cure, but without any success or even relief… Heat … Light … Drugs … Serum Injections … Massage … all these had their turn, including the removal of all my teeth, one at a time, over a period of 32 weeks. Each week I would attend the surgery bent and in pain, yet, half an hour later, one tooth less, I walked away down the street erect and in comfort. The reaction was so severe that my dentist, a family friend, would not proceed in any other way. Nobody explained why the sudden removal of the symptoms after each extraction occurred. But by the following week, I would go crawling back to the surgery as crippled and uncomfortable as ever. Life indeed was intolerable. For twenty years I was in and out of hospitals and clinics, always in pain and with my condition deteriorating.

Then something happened. One winter while I was alone at home, my family having gone for a holiday, I picked up a magazine called ‘Everybodys’ and idly thumbed through its pages. Suddenly my attention was caught by an article, and I found myself reading about ‘wonder cures’ for people with every kind of diseased condition. I was fascinated, but did not immediately relate it to myself. However something made me go back later and re-read it, and I began seriously thinking about these ‘wonder cures’ … surely they were meant for people like me? I hardly dared to think of myself as ‘cured’ — and in any case, the pain I was enduring was too great for me to make the effort of following up the idea. I had ‘learned to live with it’, in and out of hospitals for more than 25 years, and nothing had changed its inexorable progress. But the thought kept nagging at me … Suppose a miracle of this kind were possible for me? My thoughts began to race and back to the article I went. Where was this clinic? In the City of London. That was not too far away. Dare I go? After all I was on my own, with nothing to do. I might as well make the effort as just sit around moping. It could not do me any actual harm, and certainly I had nothing to lose. The magazine said the next session was that very evening. I made up my mind even though it was obviously a chance in a million. I would go without undue optimism and with no direct anticipation of a miracle result.

My destination turned out to be a large house in Russell Square in the West End of London with a clinic on the first floor. I went in and found myself in a reception room where some 30 people were sitting patiently waiting. I gave my name to the receptionist and she said that I would have to join the others and wait my turn. I took a seat and watched what was going on. The proceedings seemed routine. One by one people would be called and would disappear behind a curtain where they would remain for 5 to 10 minutes. They then went into cubicles round the room, in which they were received by men and women wear-inn white coats. After a further 20 minutes or so, they would emerge .ind depart. For an hour I sat waiting for my turn, by the end of which time I was in such pain that I felt I could no longer stay. I went up to lln icieptionist and explained this, and she said kindly, “Right, we’ll take you next”. So a few minutes later I was ushered behind the large curtain.

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