Jill Holden tells us about The Italian Job in The Main Central Jin Shin Jyutsu Newsletter, issue Number 58, Fall 2007:

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continued…

There seemed to be some commotion in the kitchen. The women had left the table. There was a growing pitch of excitement and shouting, and somewhere in the middle of this cacophony there was the soft cry of a child barely audible. My brother got up and went into the kitchen. He returned to tell us that Francesca, who was eight, had stopped a soccer ball with her nose which was bleeding profusely. Alan looked at me and said, “Do you think you could help her?”

I went into the kitchen. It was quite a scene. There were about ten hysterical women standing around Francesca, all talking in raised voices at the same time, trying to decide what to do. One of them took her over to the sink and held her head over as she splashed her face with cold water, then tipped her head back to stop the bleeding. Francesca was sobbing. The women took turns wiping her bloody nose. I was truly amazed at this scene. Alan spoke to them in Italian, and all at once they turned and looked at me, and parted making room for me to be with Francesca. I knelt down and gently slipped my hand onto her 10 area with one hand, close to the spine, and held her index finger with the other. I slowly made my way down the tight cord along her spine. The bleeding stopped immediately, and the room was still and the quiet deafening. Soon Francesca took a deep breath and her cheeks grew rosy. My brother looked at me and said, “You’re walking on the water now, sis.” I laughed. The women were watching me without a word. There was a feeling of peace now.

A few seconds later the loud siren of an ambulance drew my attention. It seemed to be getting closer. There were blinking lights as it pulled up outside. I looked at Alan as he was frowning and talking to the women who were getting stirred up again and talking among themselves. A few of them walked outside to greet the two doctors who had arrived in bright orange jumpsuits. My brother informed me that they had called the ambulance earlier. A beautiful Italian man entered, his hair tied in a long ponytail, an earring in one ear, and close behind him was an older looking woman looking very official. I watched in amazement as the man rolled up tissue into a long narrow shape and pushed it up Francesca’s nose. The woman held her head back as her nose started bleeding again, and placed an ice pack on her 4s. The chorus of women was in full swing again, resuming the dance of choreographed chaos.

My brother shook his head, rolled his eyes and returned to the table where dinner was still going on. I looked back at Francesca who had started crying again, and returned to my seat. The evening went on, more food, two more chairs broke, and after a while the women, Francesca, and the two doctors joined us.

We continued our conversation, mostly through administering Jin Shin Jyutsu, and showing Self-Help. Not speaking the language didn’t matter. We were together in a deeper ancient universal language; we didn’t need words at this point. As we shared dessert, not much was said. There was just this feeling of contentment, connection and well-being. I thought, “Life doesn’t get better than this.”

Footnote: The next day, my relatives insisted that we return with the books.

Thank you, Jill.

Thank you, Mary.

Thank you, David.

Gassho, Namaste, Blessings

All issues of The Main Central Jin Shin Jyutsu Newsletter are available at http://www.jsjinc.net.