MRI - EMF - Electromagnetic Field - Magnetic Resonance Imaging Machine - Adverse Reaction - Electrical Sensitivity - Thymus Gland - Spiritual

or The Magnetic Resonance Imaging Machine: A Visit With Satan

Describes my interment within a magnetic resonance imaging machine (MRI) to diagnose a knee injury.

Describes the MRI's method of using electromagnetic energy to polarize the human body's atomic structure, then blasting it with radio and microwaves. Describes the MRI's taking pictures of the atomic and cellular contraction and relaxation responses in order to reveal soft tissue integrity or injury.

Describes my being acutely aware of the electromagnetic field (EMF) surrounding this machine. Describes my adverse reaction as one that included a marked sensation of swimming in and suffusion by an electromagnetic force that dominated all aspects of my consciousness.

Describes an additional adverse reaction of radically worsened electrical sensitivity when the MRI's microwaves were turned "on," with symptoms including a horrific burning sensation in my thymus gland that strained the connection between this gland and its associated brachial plexus nerves.

Describes the run-up to this form of awareness and electrical sensitivity as including a four-month-old development that began with the opening of my heart chakra by the descending force of kundalini. Describes how in the preceding four months I had become extraordinarily sensitive to natural electromagnetic fields, including those of solar radiation and the earth's magnetic field. Describes a sensation of "richness" and internal radiance within my chest that would double or treble when the sun's rays touched upon it. Describes how this radiance would wax and wane with each beat of my heart.

Argues that a hormonal secretion by the heart muscle -- which is only fully activated in the condition of whole body enlightenment -- is responsible for this orientation of consciousness to the entire electromagnetic spectrum. Describes how this new development first involved my thymus gland and brachial plexus, then slowly spread outward to include and adapt the rest of my body.

Describes my terminating the MRI procedure after two minutes on account of the terrible burning that caused permanent damage to my thymus gland and the rest of the internal kundalini-driven spiritual mechanism whose function it is to receive, amplify, and transmit subtle, spiritual, "electrical" energy.

Argues that the overwhelming electrical forces employed by the MRI drowned out my every sense of connection and relationship to God. Argues that this supplanting of natural, subtle energies with destructive manmade forces is identical both in nature and in magnitude to the event of one's consciousness of Spirit or God being wholly usurped by Satan, Evil, and God-lessness.

Argues that modern medical practices suffer from an over-reliance on drugs and high-technology. Argues that the casualties of such imbalanced priorities are the quality of patient-doctor-nurse relationships and human physical and emotional health overall.

Presents links to email exchanges with an MRI scientist who criticized my argument that MRIs pose a threat to human health, and to a woman who wanted to know whether I'd fully recovered from this experience.

Kundalini Awakening - Spiritual Signs And Symptoms - December 22, 1996

I first became aware that I could feel/ consciously perceive manmade electromagnetic fields (EMFs) while inside a Magnetic Resonance Imaging machine (MRI) to diagnose a knee injury on Wednesday, November 23, 1994. It was the night before Thanksgiving. Two weeks earlier I had torn a ligament in my left knee while hiking. I visited an orthopedic surgeon who suspected that I had completely torn my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), on account of the blood he drew out of the ruptured bursa area of my knee. However, it may have been only a partial tear, in which case I would not need surgery. To accurately diagnose me he recommended that I do an MRI.

The MRI was designed specifically to obtain this kind of soft tissue information. While x-rays display bones and other dense tissues, they cannot give accurate pictures of soft tissues such as ligaments and cartilage. The MRI fills this diagnostic gap by using the EMF frequencies of radio and microwave (500 MHz up through 5 GHz), rather than x-ray (which are many more thousands of times higher in frequency), thereby enabling doctors to obtain these soft tissue images. Body tissues of different densities vary in their capacity to absorb EMF frequencies. Hence, for example, bones are not imaged clearly with radio waves. To ensure a consistent pattern in the radio waves' interaction with body tissues, the MRI employs very powerful magnets that compel every cell -- or, more precisely, every positively charged proton within each atom -- in one's body to become oriented, or polarized, toward the pull of the magnetic force. Therefore, another name used for the MRI procedure is "proton imaging." When all of your body's atoms are uniformly oriented to the MRI's electromagnetic field, a radio wave -- which is just a subtle, high-frequency electrical current sharing many of the same properties as household electricity and sun light -- is generated and forced through your entire body. With a loud drum-like noise, a photographic medium is used to capture the atomic interaction between the radio signal and the body's cells. There is a specific contraction and relaxation response that the atoms exhibit when exposed to the rapid vibrations of these radio wave transmissions. The pictures capture this interaction to depict the structural integrity of the soft-tissue being examined. Though the imaging is focused on a particular area of the body -- for instance, one's knee -- the entire body is more-or-less exposed to the forces employed in the procedure.

X, my best friend from high school, was visiting from Los Angeles at the time. We had expected to enjoy a lot of hiking, swimming, weight lifting, and so forth together. Of course, on account of my injury this did not happen. X, being most compulsive about his fitness regimen, was quite disappointed that my movements were limited to hobbling about on crutches. To please X, I did limp into knee-deep ocean surf once -- crutches and all.

In any event, X was a good sport; and so, resigning hiimself to spending his vacation with an invalid, he drove me to the X Medical Center for my MRI appointment. Upon entering, we were directed to the lowest level of the hospital. Finding the entrance to the MRI section, we walked through a pair of double doors, and found ourselves in a waiting room with about ten seats. Appointments were scheduled every hour and a half; mine was at 7:30 p.m., and was the last appointment of the evening.

The waiting room's decor was typical of modern hospitals: sickly blue walls, obnoxious green and orange 1960's era vinyl seats, synthetic yellow-brown carpeting, flickering-sputtering fluorescent lights, cold, denatured air and, of course, no windows. Having seated myself I soon found myself stuck, with my bare legs adhering to and sweating upon the suffocating vinyl seats.

The receptionist did her best to be pleasant; but with a ghostly pallor and dark circles under her eyes, she was obviously exhausted. Her poorly crafted, bluish wig added little zest to her demeanor. I reflected later that perhaps working so near the MRI machine over the years had caused her to lose what little hair and enthusiasm she had had to begin with.

There was a television in the room. The classic movie adaptation of Frank L. Baum's, "The Wizard of Oz," was on. For a few minutes I gave it my undivided attention, wishing that I was in Oz myself and that the witch, Glinda the Good, would heal my knee injury with a tap of her wand.

Shortly, I was asked to leave the waiting room to enter another area that was designated for changing. X had already left the room for a marathon call to his latest girlfriend back in Los Angeles -- (I'll reserve discussion of X and his various and fascinating sexual diversions for another post). The doorway separating the waiting room from the changing rooms was flagged with several explicit signs indicating magnetic and radiation hazards, as well as other warnings such as "No Heart Pacemakers" and "No Hairpins." No conductive materials were allowed near the machine, especially those used for implanted devices such as joint pins and pace makers.

In the changing room I followed the technician's orders: strip down to my underwear; remove all metal jewelry, zippers, and buttons; and don the white patient gown. Since I could not walk without crutches, he came back with a special plastic wheel chair. He asked me whether I was claustrophobic, as some patients cannot tolerate being within the MRI's tunnel-like confines. I answered that I had no problem with confines, provided they were safe. (I had heard that many patients are prescribed Valium or other antidepressants to reduce the stress of their being enclosed in the MRI's unnatural and confining space.) He asked me, again, whether I had any metal on me or in me. I answered that, aside from one silver-mercury amalgam filling, I had no metal. He then asked me if I wanted ear plugs to dampen the noise of the machine, as the machine's imaging requires an almost deafening, drum-like noise, or whether I wanted stereo headphones with which to listen to music. I replied "No" to both queries, explaining that I wanted to be as fully aware of the procedure as possible. I went on, describing that I was very health conscious, and that I had numerous reservations about using high technology equipment on people; I warned him that there was a chance that I would not like the procedure. He told me that that was okay, that the procedure would last forty-five minutes, that I would be in constant verbal communication with him, and that, if at any point I wanted to stop the procedure, all I would have to do is say so.

Having shared these words, he wheeled me out of the changing room; in the hallway we made our way away from the waiting room and through another pair of doors; these doors, too, were flagged with bold warning signs. The entrance to the main room came into sight; we passed through very heavy metal doors, and were finally inside the MRI room.

At this point, I need to back up a bit in my story.

During the entire time that I sat in the waiting room I had a feeling -- a very unusual sensation -- that something was amiss with this lower level portion of the hospital. I felt a strange presence, a disturbing force somewhere near me, but which eluded identification. It was not sinister in the sense of a living consciousness with a malicious intent. Rather, it was just a compelling force -- a force that exerted a very strong pull on my consciousness. It was hard for me to pinpoint. But clearly, the secretary and I were not alone: there was something else down there. It was not ominous, however: I did not feel scared; I just felt weird, like something foreign was on me or inhabiting me. As I sat in the waiting room I felt a growing sense of disorientation that caused my already large misgivings about the MRI exam to grow. In the changing room the feeling grew stronger; I felt a presence -- a compelling presence -- that did not belong there. It was not painful, but it was unmistakably unnatural. It was this feeling that likely provoked my discussing with the technician a possible "out" for me in terms of abandoning the impending procedure.

As I was escorted down the hallway, getting closer to the machine, the feeling became more pronounced; and once inside the heavy EMF-shielded doorway of the MRI room itself, my perceptions were heightened dramatically, and became oddly surreal: my every sense told me that I was swimming -- floating -- in a bizarre substance. I felt like I was submerged in something -- not drowning, though -- but still, just the same, submerged. It was as if I been plunged ten feet deep into a pool of water but could still, strangely enough, breathe. Every pore of my body -- every nerve and sensory organ that I had -- told me that something odd and powerful existed here.

Spontaneously, my mind flashed to an image from Madeleine L'Engle's book, "A Wrinkle In Time:" The brain! I had finally met the brain! The monstrous thing at the center of town that forced the community into an unnatural and singular rhythm of existence -- the thing that made all the children come outside at precisely the same time, and bounce each ball exactly the same way -- the brain that a band of the most courageous children succeeded in unplugging from its power source.

I did some quick mental deductions to isolate the cause of this compelling presence: it had to be the magnet, the giant magnet that undoubtedly was inside the MRI -- the "M" stood for "magnetic," right? My body and mind were suffused with the MRI's magnetic field. As I later found out, the MRI uses an extraordinarily powerful magnet to compel every proton in your body -- proton's all having a similar magnetic property -- to orient in the same direction, so that it can take a more accurate picture of your body's soft tissue; I also discovered that the magnetic field of the machine is never turned off. But again, just as in the changing room, I did not feel as if my life were threatened: I just felt unnaturally intoxicated -- like I was swimming in an artificial and dream-like surreality -- though my consciousness did its best to stand alert on firm ground.

The air's normal electrical make-up, or life-potential, had become like a thick, heavy glue that hung about me with great denseness and weight. The machine had a vitality-draining, sickly aura that suffocated me spiritually, drowning out my receptivity to natural sources of ambient subtle energy such as that from the sun, the earth, the moon, and other living things. In some odd and unprecedented fashion, the MRI machine had taken the place of God for me -- compelling my consciousness to focus on it rather than anything else -- for the duration of my visit.

But aside from this wholly unnatural energy field, everything still seemed, if not pleasant or healthful, at least endurable. I had come to the MRI to help my knee, and in so doing support my body's capacity to harness and transmit spirit. So, again hearing the pain in my knee beckoning me onward, I gathered my resolve to carry on with the procedure.

When I was inside the room I saw that the MRI is a large, awesome thing. It appeared to be about seven feet wide by fifteen feet long by seven feet tall, with a long tunnel-like aperture in the center for the interment of patients. It is inside the machine that the images are taken. It is manufactured by General Electric, the same company that earns billions of dollars a year as a military contractor, making nuclear bomb triggers and other devices that inflict massive human suffering. The GE emblem is visibly displayed above the entrance to the MRI tunnel. I imagine the logo is supposed to instill confidence in patients using the machine; however, in my case, it had the opposite effect, with my already substantial doubts multiplying as I visualized nuclear detonations and piles of charred, contorted corpses.

Again declining earplugs as the technician pleaded, "At least wear the ear plugs, sir," I got up onto the wheeled bed-like platform that rested on a motorized track. The technician secured some straps on my torso and legs. He wrapped my left leg, but left my kneecap exposed -- apparently to better expose it to the radiation for imaging. When everything looked okay, he asked if I was ready, to which I replied, "Uh-huh." I asked him if it was on yet, to which he replied, "No." At this point he walked away from the machine toward a room behind a large wall, apparently to begin the procedure. I thought to myself that this was not a good sign: he was protecting himself, just as x-ray technicians do -- or anyone else whose work exposes him/her to hazardous energies or substances. Shortly after the technician's securing safety for himself, my bed began rolling inward. My feet entered first -- then my legs, and then my waist; when my shoulders were at the edge of the tunnel's entrance the rolling stopped; he had said that the area to be imaged -- in my case, the knee -- had to be at the very center of the machine.

I heard his voice on the machine's intercom: "Are you okay? Are you ready?"

"Yes," I answered. I asked again, "Is it on?"

"No," he replied.

Then I began to hear loud knocking noises: "That's the machine taking pictures," he said. But in retrospect I think it must have been just warming up. This went on for about a minute, with the knocking getting louder and faster.

I thought to myself, "If this is the procedure, I think I can manage. I am totally wide-eyed and alert. There does not appear to be anything drastically harmful about this." But my assessment was premature. A few seconds later something changed. Something was turned on -- something was added to the procedure. I felt a distinct and wholly unexpected burning sensation at the center of my chest. To be exact, the burning sensation originated in my thymus gland, a little organ of the endocrine system located right under the sternum. It's directly above and to the right of the heart.

At about two minutes into the procedure, perhaps just seconds after the completion of the machine's "warm-up," I knew -- I knew -- there was something very wrong with the procedure. I knew that, without a doubt, something terrible was happening to my thymus gland and that I would soon have to quit the procedure.

To give a better account of this burning sensation I need to supply additional background information.

Prior to this evening's MRI procedure, an extraordinary development had been occurring in my chest. In brief, my thymus gland -- and my chest in general -- radiated with feeling. This sensation of living, emotional radiation had been growing steadily in intensity ever since the opening of my heart chakra four months earlier in July.

In my study of the subject of spiritual consciousness I had never read of anything quite like it. I had the feeling that, even among spiritual adepts, there was something particularly wonderful happening to me. And among those who had had similar experiences, few or none had taken the time to do a thorough, written accounting of themselves.

While, in terms of intensity, there was definitely an ebb and a flow to this feeling throughout the day, my sense of inner radiation was, if anything, persistent. A good description of the feeling would be to call it a vibrating, vitalizing richness that spread out in waves over my chest. It was like a continuous emotional earthquake, with this small, but dynamic thymus gland residing at its epicenter. Frequently, while sitting in bed or driving my car, I would just wonder in a state of near-total incapacitation at the depth and power of this feeling. It took every fiber of my will to remain intellectually focused, as the emotional intensity ceaselessly beckoned my mind to meditate on it -- and to release into it -- and in so doing, surrender to this higher, awesome power.

Obviously, there was a new and startling presence taking over my body, and it was clear that my intellectual functioning would have to step aside and play a supporting -- rather than leading -- role, from here on out. There was no question about the relationship of my mind to this force. The act of prostrating my intellect to it was as natural as the earth's gravitational pull on my body. Any attempt to concentrate mentally was associated with an intensification of the emotional radiance emanating from the thymus gland and brachial plexus. Reading a book, tying my shoes, driving my car, or changing diapers at work -- in sum, every mundane task that was required of me on a daily basis -- had become an enrapturing test of mental discipline. My strength of non-attachment was being challenged to grow in an exponential fashion. I was being tested daily to carry on my duties amidst a groundswell of increasing emotional intensity that grew and radiated within me.

It became apparent that this energetic play and sense of radiance was a game -- a test of how much pleasure I could endure without losing my mind. At any given moment, if I could but avoid tripping over my feet or babbling to myself, then I would be declared for that moment to be the "winner," which meant only that I had made it to the next elimination round of a game called "Pleasure Made Manifest."

An important symptom, especially as my condition relates to electromagnetic fields, was the fact that the sense of radiance and intensity in my chest would double or treble when directly exposed to sunlight. That is, if I walked outside with my shirt off, especially during the noonday sun, and leaned backwards to expose my chest to the sun's rays, a great intensification of pleasure and internal radiance would occur in my thymus gland and brachial plexus. There was also a waxing of this sensation at times of the day that I believe corresponded with regular and periodic fluctuations in the earth's magnetic field. Lastly, and most dramatically, the sensation of vibration and radiance waxed and waned with each beat of my heart muscle.

This five-month old spiritual, perceptual development, at first limited to my thymus gland, was spreading. Slowly it came to involve my entire brachial plexus, and most recently my throat, chin, lower jaw, and lower teeth. There were different emotions or vibrations associated with each area. Particularly noteworthy was a feeling of ongoing, perpetual sexual orgasm in my lower jaw that climaxed at my frontmost teeth. It was quite extraordinary, really; and the more I paid attention to it, the more intense the sensation of pleasure became.

From the very onset of this feeling-awareness, it was clear that the thymus gland -- the center of this spiritual feeling -- was far more powerful than my mind -- and whose radiant feeling was many times more amazing than anything my mind could ever imagine. You just couldn't compare the two: The energy and feeling-presence of the heart chakra were of an order of magnitude many times greater than that of the brain.

Clearly -- as it was as obvious as day -- I had been blessed. There was no arguing this point. The blessing had become simple, unshakable fact. I knew that there was no way that "I" could have created such a vast and wondrous feeling. The feeling did not come from me -- my individual self-consciousness. Rather, it was a gift. A higher power -- call it God, Kundalini, Spirit, or whatever you want -- had made it possible.

Despite these amazing inner changes, the exterior of my life appeared, from a stranger's perspective, almost entirely normal. I worked, ate, exercised, and slept much like everyone else in Honolulu. I continued my work as chair for the special education department at a large public elementary school. There did not appear to be anything unusual about me -- at least nothing that could account for a consciousness so drastically and qualitatively different. I asked myself, "How could I be worthy of such a rare and phenomenal feeling?" I was certainly not perfect. I mean, I had never walked on water; in college I had stolen cookies from stores; I didn't always act respectfully toward my parents; I had had four girlfriends -- all of whom I had had sex with, and none of whom I had married. I had more problems than you could shake a stick at. I cursed more than most and I harbored plenty of resentments. In short, I was not a Saint.

But none of that mattered.

Aware of my own limitations -- and there were many -- I was amazed at the steadiness and the continuing wonder of this spiritual presence. All I could figure was that there was that late-night event of the opening of my chest to subtle energy, and then, all of a sudden, it was happening. The process that had begun that night appeared inexorable. Something was developing in my chest and body that no amount of wishing away, no amount of denying, could do anything to delay or suppress.

In sum, it had been just four months since the onset of this nascent, ongoing spiritual development when I was targeted for the diagnostic radiation of General Electric's Magnetic Resonance Imaging machine.

Inside the MRI, just seconds after the above-mentioned change in procedure occurred, I found myself beginning to panic. The last two weeks I had been bemoaning my knee; now, through an effort to help it, I was bemoaning my thymus. My mind began to race -- rapidly searching for answers -- searching for a solution to this pressing dilemma. My thymus gland's response was unmistakable. It hurt: The longer I stayed in the machine, the more intensely the gland burned. It was as if my body -- if it could be likened to a 110-volt appliance -- had been plugged into a 220-volt outlet. This appliance of mine had been plugged into an energy source that was either too powerful or of the wrong kind, with the result being that my nervous and endocrine systems' circuitry were being blown out.

At first I tried to deny the sensation. I thought to myself that thousands -- perhaps millions -- of people had been through this type of imaging process with no reported problems. So why on earth should I be the only one to suffer/ react in such a dramatic manner? I thought to myself that surely my perceptions of pain -- which have not been validated by countless previous MRI users -- must be false -- or at least not half as bad as they appeared. But despite my many attempts to rationalize the pain away, the burning, searing sensation became worse with each passing second that I remained interred.

[Note from June, 7, 2003: There have been many reported adverse reactions to MRI's. Many are due to the heating effect upon body tissues. The spectrum of electromagnetic energy employed by the MRI includes the same frequencies -- 2-3 gigahertz (GHz) -- used by conventional mcrowave ovens. People do occasionally experience slight internal "cooking" from the MRI.]

As my mind struggled, I fell into a sequence of feverish, dream-like thoughts. I imagine they were like the incoherent, disturbed visions of someone stricken with malaria or dying of thirst. In retrospect, they remind me of the series of visions and thoughts that Jesus endured as he hung on the cross, debating which side of this "mess" of Creation he would side with, in the movie adaptation of his life, "The Last Temptation of Christ," directed by Martin Scorcese. Would I side with my knee -- that is, with society and this earthly, material plane? Would I cast my lot with the realm of gross relations and karma, seeking the physical healing of my knee at the expense of Spirit? Or would my allegiance be to my thymus gland -- to this awareness -- to this spiritual process of subtle adaptation so incredibly alive in my body?

I felt, too, like the main character in the movie, "Altered States," as he experimented upon himself with drugs, floating weightlessly in a chamber of water, being hit with wave upon wave of psychologically traumatic visions.

In the throes of such thoughts I exclaimed to myself, "But this awareness got me into this fucking mess in the first place. My knee is fucked because It needed me to be up in that mountain every fucking night! If this awareness would just shut the fuck up -- if It would just let me get the help I need for my knee -- It will find out that It will get everything it needs. But It's so fucking impatient! It's not letting me get help! How can I get up into that mountain again unless my fucking knee gets help?! How can I achieve spiritual consciousness unless I get through this fucking MRI exam and help my knee?"

As I cursed to myself, my mind was in a knot and my chest began to spasm painfully. What choice was there? There was no real choice here -- no real equity to be had. This was a kangaroo court, with malicious imps meting out verdicts.

It had been almost two minutes as I struggled to and fro with what to do. I thought, "This is a $10 million dollar machine! I would have to work three hundred and fifty years at my current annual income to pay for such a monumental product of human labor! This is an expensive procedure! I can't just quit! How arrogant! How rude! How presumptuous of me to feel that this machine is unfit to test me! Thousands of professionals -- with countless hugely-salaried man-hours -- have collaborated to build this mega-machine! How can I possibly stand in opposition to the collective industry and wisdom of so many?! I am just one person!"

My mind froze over; it was stuck, unable to come to a decision; both sides of the argument were convincing; the mental jury was hung.

But down below my head, my chest had not stopped for one second to consider the pros and cons of the debating viewpoints.

Over the past sixty seconds my entire chest had grown inflamed, the nerves of the brachial plexus coursing with a scalding, unnatural, unprecedented energy.

Irreparable damage was occurring -- I knew that much to be true. The area under my sternum, where the brachial plexus merges with the thymus gland, was straining and beginning to fray. A tremendous pressure was bearing down on this delicate spiritual mechanism. An undoing of spiritual tethering was at hand. I could feel the pain and the burning starting to tear apart the connections of the four parallel nerves on either side of my sternum. There was such a horrible burning sensation in my thymus gland that I thought it would shrivel and die. My spiritual receptivity was dying. My spiritual radiance was being burnt to death.

I knew that I could not make up for the minutes of delay. But I could stop any further damage. An image flashed in my mind of me sitting in a wheel chair. The image was accompanied by the thought that I would rather live the rest of my life unable to walk -- but retaining an intact God-consciousness -- than walk out of the MRI room with my knee diagnosed -- but through that diagnostic process kill the only connection to God that I have ever known.

With the acceptance of becoming a God-conscious invalid planted firmly in my mind, I looked up at the MRI intercom: I said, "Sir -- please stop -- please stop now."


I had previously written a paragraph arguing that the MRI machine is evil. I used a lot of strong language trying to convince readers that the magnetic resonance imaging machine is the mechanical embodiment of the Anti-Christ. I have since edited out much of that language. The people who built the MRI in all likelihood attempted to do good. Their big, impressive machine was built to aid the diagnosis of conditions that previously mystified doctors. And, in all of their trial runs of the machine, I am sure that few people suffered so obviously as I did. Sure, there were cases of claustrophobia -- but there were likely no reactions that the doctors thought they didn't understand or couldn't accommodate. Prior to Spirit's igniting my chest and body in July of 1994, I am sure that I would have had no problem with the procedure.

The advent of an electromagnetically sensitive, superconductive consciousness in me coincided precisely with the descending force bringing a radiant feeling of love into my chest. While I wish that more people experienced such events, at the present time I believe such occurrences are rare. There are many reasons for the infrequency with which this form of consciousness is visited upon a human being. First, you have to believe it can happen. Then you have to want it to happen. Then you must have sufficient free time for contemplation and body-mind integration. Great physical health and broad material supports are also required for access to this bodily contemplation of God. All these things need to be in place for whole body enlightenment -- this descencion of the kundalini force -- to occur; or at least to occur in the most auspicious and sustainable manner possible. The energy demands of the process leading up to this event are great. And even if one is lucky enough to have access to the material, social, and emotional circumstances that support this state, great dedication and resolve are still required. A one-pointedness of resolve is required. You have to dedicate yourself and fully go for it.

I don't think that there are many people on this planet who have had the strength, the material and social supports, the time, or the belief system -- or enabling lack thereof -- to fully engage this process.

If kundalini's awakening of the heart chakra were common, there would be much broader discussion -- among other things -- of this manmade-electromagnetic-field-magnetic-resonance-imaging-machine horror.

Another thing that concerns me is the likelihood that doctors will get physically lazy and emotionally cold relying too much on high technology. I read an article describing how it was possible to avoid using an MRI in ninety percent of knee injuries, because a well-trained doctor, through the physical manipulation of the knee, can accurately diagnose the injury. It seems that increasingly doctors are using less hands-on practices. The doctors' physical distancing is often accompanied by an emotional one as well: many do not have the time or the energy to listen and talk with the patient. Their contact with patients is often abrupt and superficial; and when combined with the lifeless medical office environment -- an environment full of stale air, buzzing machines, and artificial lighting -- it appears that society has done almost everything it can to inhibit the healing process. I think that the physical -- as opposed to the mechanical or the electrical -- manipulation of the body by a healing arts practitioner is still the most important service a doctor can offer. A doctor's own judgment of a patient's condition, unaided by MRI or other machine, should always be the most important criteria for recommending treatment. I have heard that in the past, doctors touched and interacted with patients much more than they do today: listening to the heart and lungs in several places, tapping the body here and there, pulling this, lifting that, and so forth. The same degraded, rushed mode of servicing has infected nursing as well. Nurses now have double or triple the number of patients under their care -- compared to just one generation ago -- with a corresponding truncation of physical and emotional supports provided to the patient. Nurses today are saddled with too much paperwork and are not given the time to do their jobs well. It's the disease of corporate medical profits and private medical insurance controls that are rotting these core patient-doctor relationships.

For my part -- and I do not think I am alone -- I love time-consuming, physical, hands-on reviews of my body's well-being. I am sure that, as less invasive procedures become available, we will be much better off with things other than MRIs, x-rays, dental anasthetics, and the like. On a physical level of well-being, I have no doubt that such invasive procedures are at least mildly -- if not moderately -- harmful. Hopefully, over the course of time, the development of alternative, more life-supporting procedures will take place.

But then we are brought back to my immediate predicament: for the spiritually conscious individual, such procedures are, in fact, evil -- in every sense of the word -- because they destroy one's conscious connection to God; and just as great a concern is that they appear -- especially in the case of artificial EMF's -- to destroy the physical body as well, because God consciousness -- especially in the case of whole body enlightenment -- takes root on the physical level; that is, the stress and harm to one's consciousness in such a state is a harm that directly damages those organs, nerves, and physiological systems that are responsible for intuiting or conducting that awareness. Thus, for the population of people harboring this awareness, different methods of treatment have to be developed.

For me, the negative after-effects from having been exposed to MRI radiation were severe. The MRI caused permanent damage to my thymus gland. For several days after the procedure I was plagued by the fear that the MRI had caused the loss of all spiritual functioning of this vital, miraculous little endocrine gland. It took a solid two weeks for my thymus gland to resume even a small portion of the nearly continuous radiating function that it had previously exhibited; but even when the gland did begin to radiate again, it only backfired and sputtered and burned. The gland's normal daily vibrations were similar to its response within the MRI, but on a lesser scale. No longer did it effortlessly and pleasurably radiate. Some normal functioning did eventually return, but even six months later the thymus gland's spiritual conductivity was still greatly diminished in both pleasure and intensity of output as compared to its functioning prior to the exam. But of course, at that point -- what with my devastating encounter with the dental anesthetic, lidocaine -- there were other complicating factors.

Another casualty of my interment within the magnetic resonance imaging machine was the loss of the sense of symmetry and harmony that I had experienced among the various endocrine system glands and nerve plexuses. During the four months following the opening of my heart chakra -- but prior to the MRI -- there was a development of a sublime symmetry and coordination among the endocrine glands and their associated nerve plexuses. The base of my spine, my abdomen, my chest, my throat, and my brain: All of these areas would pour forth exquisite and unique feelings simultaneously and harmoniously. It was like a great symphony of emotional and perceptual fulfillment. The perceptions were simply amazing to me. Each area had its own unique vibration and feeling. And it was clear to me that each "chakra" contributed to the greater wholeness and harmony of my entire body-mind. But that sense of rhythm and harmony was severely disrupted by the MRI. Six weeks after the MRI, just before my dental appointment, I still had not reclaimed a comparable level of vibrational attunement.

It is interesting to note that it was my thymus gland that responded most poorly to the effects of the machine. My central nervous system and other endocrine glands -- though I doubt they appreciated the experience -- did not register the same degree of pain and lack of tolerance. This raises the likelihood of the thymus gland's playing a unique role in the spiritual development of the human body. If it is true -- as some writers have said -- that the heart region is where the life force originates and radiates outward from -- and is the last place that the human spirit resides just prior to death -- then it is likely that the thymus plays an instrumental role in this radiation process. Given that the MRI's radio waves and magnetic force were artificial -- and devoid of a sentient, biological source -- then my thymus gland, which was intended only to receive and transmit electromagnetic energy from natural sources, would no doubt scream out in pain if forced to amplify and radiate such a foreign, intensely powerful energy.

I believe now that the transformation of the human body to conduct/ intuit/ transmit subtle energy begins with a hormonal secretion of the heart muscle which is initiated by the opening of the heart chakra by kundalini's descending force. Though the thymus gland and brachial plexus certainly play essential roles in the imparting of electromagnetic consciousness and whole body enlightenment, it is likely more on account of their proximity to the heart muscle itself. I believe this is so because, over a period of months and years, I have found that every gland, organ, and tissue in my body has come to be yoked to the heart muscle's electromagnetic, spiritual adaptation of the human body. In other words, when I near a cellular tower -- or other transmission source for manmade electromagnetic energy -- today, I feel irritation, swelling, and pain within every cubic millimeter of my body: my bones, brain, pancreas gland, testicles, and so forth. You name it, it hurts. Therefore, this electrical sensitivity -- this spiritual conductivity -- is an adaptation intended to make the entire body receptive to -- and conductive of -- natural, subtle, "electrical" energy.

Though my arguments may run astray, my body's experience here still holds the key to the truth. The intersection between human health and manmade electromagnetic fields is a darkly disturbing one. Somehow, for some reason, it is absolutely contrary to the human body's -- and especially the thymus gland's -- spiritual purpose to conduct manmade EMF's such as those employed by the MRI. The machine overwhelmed my senses, forcing my spiritual "antennae" to transmit its Godless tune. The entire body absorbs spiritual energy all the time, but it is somehow amplified and made to radiate outward from the region of the chest. My best assessment is that natural EMFs -- as well as the subtle and pervasive presence of God consciousness itself -- are made available to be shared among life forms via some mysterious conversion and radiation process that occurs, with greatest intensity, in the heart, the brachial plexus, and the thymus gland. But given the manmade, digital, and excessively powerful nature of the MRI's radiation, my thymus gland could not convert it properly and suffered greatly in the process.

Since that time I have had many occasions to have similar burning reactions in my chest and throughout my body on account of the numerous EMF transmission towers on these islands. All those towers should be shut down.

Manmade EMFs are but one source of spiritual alienation on this planet. There are many sources of spiritual affliction that humanity needs to combat. Domestic violence, poverty, human rights abuses, disease, discrimination on the basis of race, gender, and sexual orientation, the use of chemicals in food production, and a thousand other impediments to spiritual development need to be dealt with. But eliminating manmade electromagnetic fields should be at the top of the list. Whether or not you're aware of manmade EMFs, believe me, they are harming you -- genetically, neurologically, and spiritually.

My response to an MRI scientist who takes issue with this post.

My response to someone who wanted my advice regarding whether or not she should undergo an MRI exam.


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This page was first uploaded on 11-21-2010, last modified on 11-21-2010.

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