Seated, from left: Me, Anne, Leo, Debbie. Standing from left: Dan, Gary our guide, Sarah

People from all over the world make the pilgrimage to Abadiania. They journey from Australia, Austria, Britain, Canada, Croatia, France, Germany, Ireland, Italy, Japan, the Netherlands, Russia, Sweden, Scotland, Switzerland, Turkey, the West Indies, the US–just to mention the handful I encountered during my two-week stay.

Deb in foreground, me and Stephen Salters, opera singer

Without these people, Jao de Jesus could not do his work on such a scale, healing hundreds of people a day. To heal with energy, one needs energy–and Jao uses the energy generated by everyone who visits the Casa to help the entities and God provide a little cosmic boost to those whose body-spirits need help healing.

We are told that the entities are always working and that healing occurs all the time in the Casa’s vortex: during the night as you sleep; while you laugh with new friends in the cafe; as you stand under the bracing downpour of the Sacred Waterfall; as you open your mouth to eat; as you settle into the Current room, close your eyes, and open your mind and heart.

Just me and Papa Gary

My favorite form of healing came through other people–all the friends and acquaintances I met during mealtime. I have always believed the table is holy space of sorts, where people commune to share food, without which none of us could live (yes, I’ll do a belated post on the food in a few days)…At Abadiania we broke bread and shared our stories. These stories enriched everyone who heard them and probably helped heal those who needed to tell them.

With Antoinette and a charming local 9-year-old hustler

Abadiania is a swirl of stories. There was F., who came to heal his heart, so that he could make love to his wife. And A., an angelic Brazilian boy from the south, who should’ve died in a motorcyle accident but didn’t. And H., who is learning to teach the invisible company she keeps better manners. Some people can’t help sharing part of their stoires, as they are writ on their bodies. A nose with a huge tumor. A limp. A brightly colored silk scarf wrapped around a head. A wheelchair. Uncontrollable sobbing…Everyone has a story to tell, though some keep theirs close to themselves.

The Groupie Shot: with Sarah, Leo and Jao. We waited for 2 hours to take this photo!

I’m hoping to share my story of Abadiania with everyone soon, but in the meantime, you can read this biography of Jao’s life by Heather Cummings, John of God. I haven’t read it yet, but have heard from many folks that it’s quite good. I just ordered it and can’t wait to read it when I get home.

Ciao for now.

Orb photo, after a low-light filter

Several of you commented that you saw many more than seven orbs on your ultra-high-resolution computer screens. Bravo! There are actually dozens of them, as I learned after Mike helpfully applied a low-light filter to the photograph

This photo is interesting because I think that any photos seemingly “unsuccessful” photos might actually have orbs in them if the resolution is improved with a filter.

What are these orbs? As I’ve said before, they are the untransitioned entities that reside here in Abadiania and help Jao with his healing. They are everywhere within the Casa’s vortex, an area roughly one-square mile. I left the vortex briefly on  Tuesday to visit a soup kitchen. When I returned, I was so weak I had to lie in bed for 3 hours.

People who need physical proof of what happens here will get it in spades–if they come here. For the faraway skeptics, this photo should whet your curiousity.

Now that I’ve been here, I can’t imagine not coming here. And I know I will be back. If the next galaxy were just a 26-hour plane trip away, wouldn’t you, too, hop on a jet to visit it?

On the spiritual level, this place is a marvel. On a physical level, it’s extremely basic. The toilets cannot flush paper; I have fleas in my bed, and the bedding stank so much I washed everything by hand–even my pillow. If I could have washed my mattress, I would have. But somehow, none of that really matters. It truly doesn’t.

Cricket on the path

I confess to swatting spiders. And flies. And definitely mosquitoes. I wish I could be more Buddhist about them and let them be, but instinct takes over when I see a big fat fly. If I return as a fly, I’d want to be extinguished as quickly as possible, to get on with it.

Some tiny creatures, though, are marvels to treasure. Like the tiny crickets that fiddle so loudly at dusk. Or the funny hummingbird that keeps trying to attract the attention of its twin in the mirror. He’s at it every day–now as I type, yesterday when I took this photo of him.

Hummingbird next to mirror

Before I went to bed, I saw this tiny alien by my toilet. I hope he found his way home.

Lizard by the loo

At least seven orbs are in this photo.

Last night a large group of people gathered to go spelunking for UFOs. I say this casually and with utter seriousness, because many folks here believe that Abadiania is part of a powerful vortex, one with interdimensional cracks and crevices. That a powerful energy pulsates here is undeniable. But this is nothing entirely unusual: Many places, especially sacred grounds, possess a palpalable energy that is noticeably different–even to those who insist that such things cannot be discerned.

Anyhow, the UFOS have been sighted by many people once the sky turns dark. We were unofficially led by a wonderful opera singer from the US, Stephen Salter, who is also particularly adept at taking photos of the luminous orbs that are the various entities residing here. We walked to a hilltop lookout, all 12 of us, linked hands, and sang “This Little Light of Mine.” We also prayed. We stayed there for about an hour, scanning the skies. While we waited for contact, we took photos of the dark sky, trying to catch orbs as well.

The orbs, by the way, are invisible to all except sensitives and cameras, which register images of them at night. A popular pasttime around here is to go orb-hunting with a camera at night. People simply point their cameras at any dark patch of sky and take an image with the flash on. If you’re lucky, you’ll get orbs.

I was thrilled to be able to get about three shots of orbs out of several dozen attempts. The photo above is my best orb image. Look closely, and you’ll see about seven orbs.

Skeptics might think these orb images are malfunctions of the camera, but the images have been analyzed in labs. Round orbs of light are indeed being photographed. And, how could it be that everyone’s camera is malfunctioning in the same way?

By the way, we did not see any UFOs. We may try again tonight. Our guide Gary laughed about our adventure, telling us that people were just seeing motorcycle lights.

Porte cochere of the Casa

At last, I get to the heart of the matter. The Casa, as it’s referred to, is the spiritual center where Jao does his healing. It’s a humble complex by American standards, but impeccably maintained and with beautiful grounds. Jao established it in 1978, and it has been the spiritual home of hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who seek healing and spiritual enrichment.

View of the Great Hall, where all gather first to pray.

I am so immensely humbled and grateful to be here. I cannot describe what a gift it is to be among so many people who believe in the Light, to meet so many people who are willing to share their stories of healing. A heartfelt thank you to my husband Michael, who supported me in my decision to come here and who is taking care of our children during these two weeks away. I hope he can come here too and experience the incredible blessings this place has to offer.

What, exactly, happens here? Healing, both spiritual and physical. The healing is guided by the Entities, who work through medium Jao. Jao stresses emphatically that he does not heal–only God does. There are thousands of entities, beings who have already transitioned but have chosen to remain on this plane to help those of us in need. Sensitives often perceive them as orbs of light; many people here go “orb-hunting” with their cameras at night, to get photos of them. I plan on doing so, maybe tonight. One member of our group, Anne, got an image of a red squiggly streak of light–orbs in motion. She  is a masseuse at Google, and definitely a sensitive of some kind.

Place where we gather for Blessed Soup between sessions

After meeting in the Great Hall, we go through various  lines. The first time line is for those who have never gone before or had their photo presented to the Entities. Second time line is for any subsequent visits. Then there is the surgery line. Surgeries are invisible or visible; most people opt for the first. Revision line is for those who need to be reviewed 8 days after surgery.

On Thursday morning, after I asked medium Jao a question, I was told to get surgery in the afternoon. Sometimes surgery is very brief; my session was very long. We sat with our eyes closed–a room of about 45 people–prayed and held our right hand over the area of concern, or over our heart if there were multiple concerns.

Casa gardens and lookout point over the valley.

I met a lovely older gentleman from the Netherlands named Frank who is here on his third visit. He first came for a heart condition, which was completely healed. He had to get four surgeries. I am hoping I don’t need to get anymore.

After surgery, one must remain in seclusion for 24 hours and not mingle with other people. Food is brought to you in your room, and you must keep your eyes closed as much as possible. Then, for a week you must not experience any sexual energy, lift heavy objects, or strain yourself. On the 7th night, the stitches are removed. You must sleep in white. For 40 days afterwards, there is a prohibition on pork, spicy food, sex, and alcohol. In my case, the prohibition is only 8 days, because I already had a surgery at Omega in 2007. However, because I was prescribed herbs, I cannot have pork, spicy food, or alcohol for the duration of the herbs. I have 11 bottles of herbs, each containing 35 capsules that I must take 3 times a day. No wine for a long time…

Casa bookstore, where one buys water, trinkets, and books, of course

In preparation for my time at the Casa, our wonderful guide Gary took us to the Sacred Waterfall on Tuesday, where no photos are allowed. I saw a mother and baby marmoset monkey high up in the tree gazing at us. The waterfall was bracing and mystical–like everything here. I really liked the Crytal bath, which consisted of lying down on a bed while crystal lights were pulsed in succession over me. After that experience, I fell asleep for two hours.

Start of the path to the Sacred Waterfall

Everywhere you go, you meet people who tell you their stories of healing. Non-believers come here, witness the miracles that happen every where here, and believe.

Because Jao is Catholic, all the prayers are from the Catholic liturgy, but everyone is careful to stress that God is non-denominational and that all prayers from all faiths are welcome and just as valid.

The mile-long path to the Sacred Waterfall, as seen from the lookout.

Then there are the noises particular to Abadiania: the spiraling, spinning squeaking of huge flocks of parrots as they wing through the darkening sky to their nesting trees. A motobike coughing along on the gravel street. From my bed, I can hear the angry buzz of the frustrated mosquito outside my window.

Down the hall, the little old man with the beret says “Bonne nuit” to his daughter and son. Across the street, a man and woman talk to each other in Portuguese. I have heard Italian, German, Scandinavian, and French so far. All these different people use English to communicate to each other, with delightful accents. The loveliest English I’ve heard was spoken by the table of Irish next to me in the dining room. Such a remarkable looking group–so beautiful, they had to be faeries on holiday.

Last night the dogs had a turf war at midnight, which erupted again around 3am. A couple hours later, the roosters started crowing. They crow from dawn until about 9am–to make sure even those who wish to sleep in late wake up, I guess.

Spiritual retreats aren’t exactly great for catching up on sleep. Not with such noisy nights and mornings. But they are most definitely good for the soul. More on that later…

Two jackfruit hanging from a tree

Most people have stories of odd coincidences that occurred before their departure to Abadiana. I was not an exception. The Saturday before my departure, I was suddenly seized by a conviction that I had to buy houseplants. Many of them, to purify the air in the house. On Sunday, I went to Swanson’s, where, conveniently, there was a clearance sale. I had gotten a list of plants from the wonderful book, How to Grow Fresh Air. Palms, snake plant, yucca, ficus, dracaena, and a few others whose names escape me. I was amazed when I saw all these houseplants of mine growing outside in Brazil, some potted, some planted in the ground near buildings, others obviously wild. This place is teeming with glorious life…Here are a few photos of things we never see in Seattle…

Live coffee beans on the bush

Two guinea hens getting to the other side

I took photos of the three holy places we toured in Brasilia. The National Cathedral is a giant dome with three angels suspended from the top of the dome that act as counterweights. Brazilians are extremely spiritual–people are praying everywhere. But they are also deeply practical–photos are allowed.

Every woman who can walk wears heels, from little 4-year-old girls with chubby feet…

…to little old ladies with bowed legs who, if they were in the US,  would be wearing brown orthopedic loafers instead of beige slingbacks…

Of course, the sexy young things definitely wear sexy shoes too…

It’s obvious, just by looking at people’s feet, who’s from out of town…

Most light packers and seasoned travelers never take white clothing with them. But on this trip to see John of God, I need to pack at least three changes of white clothing to wear to the Casa, the spiritual healing center. Since my trip is two weeks long, I’m taking seven changes of clothing, an extra pair of comfortable walking shoes, and rubber slippers that I plan to leave behind, along with basic toiletries and medicines.

Other essentials include cash, my mini-netbook, my tiny Canon Powershot, and powercords and adapators. I always carry a small roll of duct tape, ear plugs, and strong binder clips that can be used to hang up makeshift curtains and wet clothes.

My splurge pack is an inflatable “First Class Sleeper” that will supposedly enable me to sleep comfortably in an airplane chair–something I’ve never been able to do and which I’ll have to during my 26-hour trip.