Tales From The Shelter – 11
Last week I was told I may not be able to do healing treatments here. My Councillor said the floor manager was aware that I do this sort of thing and thought it best for my own sake that I not do this as someone may make a claim against me, say, if they thought I hurt them or something.
It’s no secret I’m a healer in the First Nations tradition. It is my gift, we all have our own gifts. Sometimes the women ask me to take away their headaches, the aches and pains out of their necks and shoulders, stuff like that. I do both hands on and hands off work.
I told my councillor that I’m not concerned about anyone coming back on me but perhaps this place is concerned they may be named in a libel suit if I was accused of something. “Oh no no no”, replied my councillor, that’s not it at all. She said the manager said it’s probably against the rules and he’s looking over the rules. This has been a real mind-fuck.
There’s 18 million rules here , in this place that plugs itself as non-judgemental. Break a rule without knowing the rule existed and you are given shit. Guility before proven innocent, Napoleanic Law.
So, the manager doesn’t like me doing God’s work – healing people – I guess he’s jealous and thinks you have to have a special piece of paper to do this , along with appropriate bible study. Well, let’s see, Jesus was a healer and I don’t recall hearing anything about him having a diploma from the Nazareth School of Healing and Sea Parting. So maybe the Silly can take a lesson from themselves, because it seems they’re always tripping up on themselves.
They have taken the confession booth away so it’s simpler and easier for people in the chapel to merely discuss with one another their sins and that the devil got into them , so they absolve themselves of any responsiblity. Guess what? They reserve that only for themselves, the little lambs following the Captains and Majors in marching rows, two by two. So along comes a person like me and hey, I’m a sinner because I don’t know their rules but it’s my responsibility – huh?
Last week I went into the garbage/recycling room to get a cardboard box. I got shit. Why? Because us tenants aren’t supposed to go in there. Wait a minute…I let them know tenants go in there all the time. They said that doesn’t matter, it’s off limits and I was basically bad. This despite there’s no sign saying ‘keep out’ or ’employees only’ or anything to that effect.
Guess I’m going to burn in hell. Boy, this is some spiritual workplace, you know, what with them saying prayers before meetings…wow, that’s the creme de la creme of being spirtual on the job. Hey, let’s get mad at the tenants for whatever we feel like , and damned if you talk back or put in a greivance becuase that can be grounds for getting kicked out.
So, yes, the devil made me do it but their judgements and rules seem to go against the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedom….so we’ll see what the manager has to say should he be able to dredge up such a rule on healing…my bet is if he broaches it again and I ask to see the hard copy, which is my right as a tenant, that that copy just isn’t going to show up.