History

Whether castor oil has any genuine medical benefits—there are indications that it can help relieve everything from rheumatism and constipation to menstrual disorders and dry skin—I can’t say. I do know that when my A.R.E. therapist, Tawnia, applies the warm oil pack to my tummy, the sensation is very pleasant—comforting, even. It reminds me of my grandmother, who used to place a hot water bottle in my bed to keep me warm. As a ceiling fan whirs overhead and ambient music plays in the background, the oil drips down my sides. Meanwhile, Tawnia skillfully massages my feet, which she says will “gently stimulate my organs.” What? According to ancient Chinese medicine, pressure points in our soles correspond with various body systems, and massaging those areas, a practice known as reflexology, helps resolve health issues.

     I soon stop thinking about all health claims and drift off into a dreamlike state for an hour or so. When the session ends and Tawnia has cleaned off the oil, a sense of well-being suffuses my body.

In the crowded waiting room, people of all ages patiently wait for their own A.R.E. experience—for treatments ranging from acupuncture and massage to Reiki and hypnotherapy, all done in the four-story white house on 67th Street that Cayce built in 1928 as the country’s first (and only) psychic hospital.

Known as the father of holistic medicine, as well as “the sleeping prophet” and “miracle man of Virginia Beach,” Edgar Cayce (1877-1945) was best known for the some 14,000 mystical “readings” that family members claim he delivered during his life—all while in an apparent sleep-induced, or hypnotic, state. It is a welter of material on a vast array of heady topics—astrology, reincarnation, Atlantis, the biblical history of Egypt and dream interpretation, as well as health and life issues, spiritual matters and ancient mysteries. Nearly every day for 40 years, he’d lie down on a couch, put his arms across his chest and hold forth, often diagnosing the health concerns of individuals who’d written him asking for help, and then prescribing treatments. His wife, Gertrude, would “guide” the readings—he’d sometimes do several a day—and a stenographer took copious notes.