— 1 —

I woke up; tossed and turned until sleep overtook me once more. Dreams came one after another… my mind was restless and the slightest sound or movement would rouse me. After two hours of sleep, I woke up frustrated again. It had been twenty years since my last night of undisturbed rest.

I’d tried sleeping pills, but they didn’t work—over the years, I’d tried many kinds. Each time, I woke up in the morning to a crippling migraine. Unfortunately, even without sleeping pills, I suffered migraines… even with the headache-prevention medication prescribed by doctors. As time passed, it had grown worse and worse.

At its most severe, I suffered from two outbreaks a week. Each time, I’d take one or two strong painkillers and shut myself inside a completely darkened room. I’d just lie in bed, literally in agony, waiting for it to end.

Even though I’m a strong and persistent individual, the constant battle with my health and dashed hopes of recovery eventually sent me into a deep depression. With my kids all grown up, I started thinking it might be time to end things.

During one episode, trying to cope with my bed-ridden discomfort, I went through a copy of Meditation & Health Magazine. Flipping through the magazine, I came across a picture of Meditation Master JinBodhi. There was something about his image, his gentle expression that raised my interest; the stories of people overcoming illness really peaked my interest. I suddenly became excited at the possibility of a new therapy. Still, a moment like that can’t erase years of frustration—I stopped and asked myself what good meditation would be, when even the most advanced medicine offered no cure?

I set my new hope aside.

— 2 —

My doctor once said that my case was one of the worst migraine cases he’d ever encountered.

My father is a famous doctor of traditional Chinese medicine, often invited to give lectures in the USA, but he was unable to cure me either. In his opinion, though not fatal, my migraines were unlikely to ever allow for a normal life.

It may seem ironic that a famous doctor could not cure his own daughter; nor could my western-trained brother, a doctor of conventional medicine—he recommended new medicines all the time. Furthermore, both my son and daughter chose medical science as their major, motivated by a desire to find a cure.

I got calls from friends, other relatives and kind-hearted neighbors every day. They all did their best to be supportive. I appreciated it enormously, and yet it saddened me to be a burden to so many people.

During a particularly bad episode, I made up my mind to try Puti Meditation. “This is my last chance,” I told myself—I felt jaded and lost. So much time had passed, and it was the last hope I could muster.

I registered for the February 2006 Meditation and Fitness Retreat Program.

— 3 —

On the second day of the Retreat, I stopped taking the preventive medication I’d been on. I’d tried abstaining before, but it had always resulted in horrible migraine recurrences of greater strength, frequency and duration.

Trying again was a long shot—there’s no doubt of that!

The first and second days passed successfully, as did the third, but on the fourth day, things took a bad turn: the pain started at 5 am.

At first, I did not want to go to class, afraid it would be impossible to practice. Then, I decided that since I was there to meditate, maybe that was the best thing for me… maybe it would help.

I went to class.

While the students were practicing, I covered my eyes with a cloth to protect my eyes from the light and lay on the floor. Even so, it was torture—so much so that I had to fight the very illogical impulse to strike my head against the wall.

Shortly, I was taken to a separate room, where I was treated with a form of special therapy. To this day, I’m unsure of how it worked, but the migraine eased during the treatment.

Just before the end of morning class, I was encouraged to remove the cloth from my head. I hesitated, knowing that the pain ought to last another twenty-four hours and that exposure to light would only add fuel to the flames. Nonetheless, I committed fully to this new possibility, I unbound my head. The moment I opened my eyes, I started to cry. For the first time light did not worsen the pain.

The sunlight was so beautiful!

— 4 —

From the moment I opened my eyes, the pain gradually began to subside. It became tolerable in the early afternoon and was completely gone by the end of class.

From that moment to the last day of the 12-day Retreat, I was filled with feelings of happiness that were new to me. Everyone commented on my easy laughter—after twenty years of struggle, I was finally laughing out loud like everyone else.

Though a migraine hit on the tenth day in class, I didn’t lose my smile, because I was sure I could defeat it.

I was right—unexpectedly, the migraine was gone by noon without any special therapy or medication.

During those last ten days, I only took a pill and a half of preventive medicine on the first morning, and nothing more.

— 5 —

After the February Retreat, I took another risk—I decided to return to Hong Kong, a city with which I have an intense relationship.

I have a home there and love it very much; however, because of the migraines, I was afraid to go—the hot and humid weather can instigate horrible episodes. Nonetheless, at that time my mother-in-law was ill and only my husband was there to take care of her… I’m a dutiful daughter and just had to go.

Though my health had improved greatly by the end of the meditation Retreat, I was still worried about what might happen in Hong Kong; so, I brought all the medicine I could… in case things went badly.

The whole month there, I didn’t take a single pill.

Well aware of how miserable migraines had made my life, my husband was highly sensitive to my state. He was amazed to see me so healthy, particularly without medication. It was very difficult for him accept how much I credited to meditation, which is understandable—it is incredible that a twelve-day meditation retreat can make a crippling illness of twenty years suddenly manageable. Had I not lived this experience myself, I wouldn’t take it at face value… I am fully aware of how unbelievable it sounds.

My husband encouraged me to continue learning and practicing Puti Meditation.

On the sixth day of my April Retreat, a migraine struck. The pain hit me suddenly before afternoon class. Not wanting to disturb my classmates, I sat in a chair outside, alone and tried to cope. Luckily, Master JinBodhi passed by and offered to help.

He performed some kind of therapy and the pain was gone. My mind was so serene that I was sure the treatment had lasted ages. Classmates later told me that it had only been about ten minutes.

I was taught that it wouldn’t be unusual to have an outbreak about every month and a half. “Don’t worry about the occasional reoccurrence. As long as you keep practicing meditation, you will get healthier and healthier.”

— 6 —

I now feel that my life is full of sunlight. Night or day, there is a brilliance inside me.

I used to fear the light and was unable to stay in it for a long; if I did, a migraine would strike the very next day. As a result, I haven’t seen a movie for twenty years–the light from the screen triggered migraines.

Everything has changed! Even during the occasional episode, light simply isn’t my enemy anymore.

After witnessing the extent of my recovery, my brother invited me to Hawaii for a vacation in July 2006. It was the first time I’d enjoyed sun and sand without worry in a long, long time. In my mid-fifties, physically and mentally, it’s as though I’m returning to the energy of my youth.

I feel that I owe it all to fortune—the good fortune of discovering Puti Meditation. For that, I will always be grateful.