Have you ever heard of an Iridologist?

I hadn’t until I was working in Oklahoma and multiple patients started mentioning the title to me during chiropractic care…

“I was treated by the iridologist for my adrenal fatigue.”

“I didn’t know I had Chron’s disease until I saw Phyllis.”

“I go to see a native healer whenever my ulcer acts up.”

….It took me months to realize that they were all talking about the same mysterious woman. Apparently, a Native American woman named Phyllis was a third generation Iridologist, a healer who looks into your eyes and can diagnose an internal issue. Her niche was to then recommend nutritional supplements to ease a physical imbalance, or as I would find out later, to prime the body for better handling of emotional distress. After the fourth consecutive week of hearing about this Phyllis, I knew that I was supposed to find her and her healing offerings. With a skeptical mind keeping my excited heart in check, I bribed a friend to take the drive with me to find her supplement shop.

Luckily, I was warned that the Iridologist doesn’t accept appointments and to get there at opening time; care was given on a first come, first served basis. We pulled up to an empty parking lot and apprehensively read the lonely door from our car, “no food or drink.” Not an impressive start. As if on cue, cars started pulling into the lot and a line quickly formed in front. We followed suit and tried to look like we were first timers. When the shop opened, everyone snuck inside, acting calm but anxiously hoping to get a better spot in line. A queue politely formed inside the wooden waiting room, where we imitated the regulars who knew to claim the order that they had entered, “I came in after him so you’re next behind me.” Sitting on folding chairs upholstered with cow print or native patterns, we quickly came to find that Phyllis was no hidden pearl. Many people used her services over the past forty years for physical help, emotional support, and even spiritual mentorship. We were obviously in for a treat.

Each visit with Phyllis ran about 15 minutes so depending on your place in line, you could sit in the tiny waiting area for a few hours. There was plenty of stimulus in the shop to pass the time though. Between supplements to peruse, striking up a conversation with the people waiting next to you, and planning what to say for your window of time with Phyllis, things moved quickly. I never minded the wait to see her, we were about to receive free care from a woman with an obvious gift and I could tell that her comforting presence would bring much more than healthy vitamins into my life. I tried to let my friend know the true power of being in Phyllis’s sacred space. Just while sitting in the waiting area, I could feel us being healed. I didn’t know if Phyllis was a medical intuitive or channeled from great spirits, but healing entities undoubtedly filled the room. “They” were working on me before being called up for the main event. I wished that all of my patients could witness this buzzing, full body vibration of spiritual healing. Even more so, I hoped to create an enlightened environment to allow them to heal like this just by associating with my waiting room.

I wonder what she’ll find within me?

I remember being nervous and feeling the hype that tends to surround people with medical or spiritual gifts. The rumors of her gifts, mixed with the mystery of her waiting room, made it easy to blow her influence out of proportion. For true believers, no matter how scientific your mind is, there always comes a moment in the presence of a mystical person where you wonder, “do they know what I’m thinking?” Yes, even energetic healers feel this way in the presence of other old souls. Adding to my aI remember being struck by all the conflicting religious references around us, hanging above soap products and natural shampoos on sale. Like most things in the outskirts of Tulsa, an indigenous culture was strongly represented in all the decorations and character of the space. What seemed strange though, (maybe a sign of the spiritual turmoil I felt at that stage in life) was the presence of so many Christian symbols mixed into the display. The man behind the desk (Phyllis’s son) wore a large crucifix around his neck and never missed a chance to say “God bless you.” A beautiful portrait of a native woman hung over the crowded sitting area, looking strongly over those of us seeking advice from the in-house elder. Why then were crosses hanging next to this piece? She shined so brightly by herself that she didn’t need the noise of other relics to worship clouding her space. Her gods, and their medicine, spoke through her deep eyes.

The first time I was called up, I nervously walked through the dark and earthy room towards a kind, softly aged woman sitting on a singular stool. The bright window behind her made her glow in contrast. I assumed the empty stool a few feet in front of her was my spot so after perfectly placing my butt on the seat I said, “Hellooooo,” before her magical generosity could expire. She nodded, asked to see my tongue and then with direct eye contact, asked if there was a particular concern I’d like to address that day. It’s hard to stare into a stranger’s direct gaze and allow them in. My emotional mind tried to soften and make the most of this unique experience but my scientific brain was analyzing her techniques. I knew from acupuncture that a tongue diagnosis can often portray signs of thyroid issues or nutritional deficiencies, but the eyes? Now that was an area that I knew little about. In school we are taught to see drastic signs within the eyes that demonstrate issues with the liver, blood pressure, or damage to the skull. Those rarities are usually found by doctors that regularly assess the eyes during long examinations and with helpful tools. This older woman spent ten seconds looking at me from a few dark feet away.

After staring, she looked down to her yellow notepad and started writing. She thanked me for doing what I do for patients and reminded me to take better precautions from absorbing the energy of others. That’s not what I was expecting her to say. I was suffering from a cramp under my left rib cage and was concerned about my heart (I’ve had a history of murmurs). As we spoke more, she wrote me a list of supplements to decrease the acid in my stomach, basically treating an ulcer. Phyllis’s conversations and recommendations were free, she felt that her gift was from God so she couldn’t charge for it. I’d usually spend close to $100 on supplements when I went every few months but I never cared, her heart and glowing eyes were priceless. I didn’t go to medical doctors or pay much attention to my internal health so to me, the occasional supplement protocol with Phyllis was an effortless decision to monitor my blood chemistry. Usually after a week of her protocol, mixed with the unknown healing of her spirits, I’d find relief from many of the internal imbalances I’d experience over the next two years that I lived in Tulsa. Each time I remember thinking, “this is why alternative care is so empowering!” Seeing a way to change an unknown physical ailment simply by controlling my food intake and adding something that the body couldn’t make itself, was a remarkable freedom. Whether it was a placebo effect or not that first visit, her calming words and the resolution of my chest burning was the reassurance that I needed that I wasn’t heading toward a heart attack. My fear of a worsening condition only led to more anxiety, increasing the ulcer induced pain.

Not everyone I brought with me to Phyllis had as remarkable results as I did. A few friends reported that they didn’t think the recommended supplements sat well with them or admitted that they weren’t great at following a vitamin routine. I may have had an advantage by being a doctor and knowing how to prioritize the list of recommendations that Phyllis would provide me with. Regardless, I really do credit the iridologist for maintaining my chemical and nutritional health for the remainder of my time living in Oklahoma. I’m not sure if she is still in practice or if the pandemic closed her aging doors, but I’m very grateful to have been exposed to such a unique healer, especially one from an indigenous background. What a gift to live in a new area and be shown the ways of their culture!

Why I wanted to write about this experience is because even though I am home, years later in my native town of southern New Jersey, I still think of Phyllis every day. Aside from some temporary nutritional recommendations, she taught me an invaluable lesson that day which helped me to take being a medical intuitive more seriously. “Thank you for what you’re doing for your clients. This is your reminder to take better precautions when you leave them.” This woman who knew nothing about me, (my name, my job, or that I was 27 at the time) recognized from a report of a sore rib cage, and a quick look into my eyes, that I was a healer that I was struggling to process my gifts. Looking back, I can see how my body had to unravel layers of trauma and the turmoil of my ego to learn both its capabilities AND limitations. Her guidance was the validation I needed - from a source outside my clinical world that had nothing to gain from my belief in my own gifts - to embrace that my mind was indeed changing people and interacting with energies that I couldn’t understand. That plane in which I was healing, those portals that I found in people’s bodies, needed to be treated with respect to maintain my own health.

At the end of my first stool session with Phyllis, she ripped off the yellow notebook paper with a list of three supplements to go find in her store. She handed it to me and began teaching me a cleansing mantra to use at the end of every work day before leaving the office. As you step back into your outer world, remember to say, “I leave here with a clear conscience, clean energy, and a clear heart.” I mouthed the words with her as she repeated it to me. I nodded, slid awkwardly off the stool, and thanked her for bringing the clear conscious portion of the mantra to my attention.

“I leave here with a clear conscience,

clean energy,

and a clear heart.”

The clear conscience portion of the mantra reminds me that from a place of authentic love, I trust that I did my best that day and will give myself again fully to the patient when they are again in front of me. Their shared stories, confessions, and vulnerable histories were not my stories to share. This simple saying, mixed with other techniques of energy hygiene, allows me to finalize my treatment day, cut cords from any lingering patients in the space, and close the door to the stories that their minds shared with me. Even if the words hold no true magical powers, by reciting the mantra that spoke so heavily to me, my unconscious mind was being fed healthy support to ignite a physical response. On the surface, my conscious body receives fuel from the unconscious mind and uses it to run the necessary neurological programs that help me believe that I am safe, healthy, and filled with love as a result of my work. If I want to remember a story for teaching purposes, I take the time to write it into my phone or journal before leaving the office. In this space, I can remember the details of a healing session. After my mantra and properly crossing the barrier of my office’s front door, I have a hard time recalling the specifics of a session that day. This teaches me that the healing that takes place on my table is not my process to feel or share until seeing the patient again. It’s not selfish, it is an act of respect for their journey as well as a self-care technique that ensures my practice doesn’t come home with me, sustaining the length of my career.

“I leave here with a clear conscience, clean energy, and a clear heart.”

Before meeting Phyllis, my energetic mentors were all men. They were brilliant (but often fear based) practitioners, who stressed the importance of closing energetic connections between people’s emotions by using harsh visual boundaries, prying magnets, or commanding prayers that clashed with my loving interpretation of God. They taught me to leave with clean energy but I wasn’t taught to leave my mind at peace after work and to avoid replaying the interactions from the day in my head all night. The more you think about work, the faster you progress right? I cringe thinking about how the providers I worked with texted each other so frequently about patients at night or on weekends; sharing stories about our cool feats of energy medicine and other unique interactions. I may have accelerated my training and learned a lot from those shared experiences but at what cost? In addition to disrespecting our patients’ privacy, the obsessive dynamic reinforced an unhealthy behavior of losing myself within the workplace. You don’t have to be a medical provider to relate to that! In that isolating world, I lost the true goals of helping others heal and what role I played in that private process.

“I leave here with a clear conscience, clean energy, and a clear heart.”

A clear heart reminds me that this work enables me to interact deeply with humans I’d never otherwise have a chance to meet and learn from. This career allows me to live in a destination area where many people struggle to find year round work and afford the cost of living in a shore town. Without this work and a loyal group of patients who are dedicated to deeply healing, I couldn’t live so close to the sea and all its sacred teachings. Whatever bumps I have taken in my clinical road have all guided me toward finding home; a new office family of wildly intuitive female healers, the physical home on the island on which I was born, and the loving home within someone I’ll share all future successes with, my new husband.

How does this healing mantra apply to you? Make it your own and change the words so they offer you clarity when leaving your work space (or work mentality). Replace the three pieces of the mantra with a body part or an emotion that adds weight toward your beliefs. Remember, if you interact with people throughout the day and make decisions that will influence someone’s wellbeing, you are connecting with them on a level that extends beyond a handshake or a conference call. Be there fully with your words and your actions, but then, dedicate a barrier of time (or a distinct space) that defines a closing of that part of your willpower. If you scoff at the idea of not thinking about work all night then you need this more than anyone. Your mind and mental energy need to rest in order to sustain your ability to use it. There’s no perfect equation or mantra to generalize all of our unique working experiences but for me, and those who smiled at the words that Phyllis shared, I plan to reinforce my healing world with this simple and effective prayer.

Until next time readers, “I leave this space with a clear conscience, clean energy, and a clear heart.”