This letter comes from Maria in São Paulo, Brazil. She asked me to share her story in the hope it helps someone else who’s been told there are no more options.
Maria’s Letter
Dear Bird’s Way,
I’m writing this from the same kitchen where, eighteen months ago, I sat crying after my third specialist told me my autoimmune condition was “manageable but not reversible.” I was thirty-four, newly married, and being told to accept a life of medication, flare-ups, and limitations.
I want to tell you what happened next, not to give medical advice but because I believe someone needs to hear this right now.
I found Neville Goddard through your channel. It was a video about revision, I think. I was skeptical. I’m a pharmacist by training. My entire education taught me that healing follows specific biochemical pathways, not mental images. But I was desperate, and desperation makes you open to things your rational mind would normally reject.
I started with SATS every night. My scene was simple: I was sitting across from my doctor and she was saying, “I honestly can’t explain this. Your markers are completely normal.” I didn’t visualize anything elaborate. Just her face, her voice, and the feeling of stunned relief in my chest.
The first month, nothing happened physically. My symptoms were the same. But something shifted inside me. The panic that had been my constant companion started to quiet. Not because I was suppressing it. Because Neville’s teaching gave me something panic can’t survive alongside: a genuine sense of possibility.
I also started a mental diet. This was the harder part. Every time I caught myself thinking “my condition,” I corrected it to “these temporary symptoms.” Every time someone asked how I was feeling and I started to describe my illness, I stopped and said, “I’m getting better.” Not as a lie. As a seed.
What Shifted
Around month three, I noticed my flare-ups were less frequent. My rheumatologist adjusted my medication downward, which she’d never done before. She didn’t attribute it to anything I was doing mentally. She called it “a good phase.”
By month six, my inflammation markers had dropped to levels I hadn’t seen since before diagnosis. My doctor was puzzled. She ran the tests twice.
I need to be honest here: I didn’t stop my medication. I didn’t reject conventional treatment. What I did was change the inner conversation I was having about my body. I stopped identifying as “someone with an autoimmune condition” and started identifying as “someone whose body is returning to balance.” That distinction might sound like wordplay, but it changed everything about how I felt, how I slept, how I ate, how I moved through my days.
By month twelve, my doctor used the word “remission.” She said it cautiously, like she was afraid to jinx it. I wasn’t afraid. I’d been living in the feeling of that word for months before she said it.
What I Want Others to Know
I’m not saying I “cured” myself with my mind. I don’t know exactly what happened at the biological level. What I know is this: when I changed my dominant mental state from fear and resignation to calm expectation of healing, my body responded. Maybe it was the reduced stress hormones. Maybe it was something Neville would call “the law.” Maybe it was both, or something else entirely.
What I want people in similar situations to hear is: don’t choose between conventional medicine and mental/spiritual practice. Use both. Take your medication and do your SATS. See your doctor and maintain your mental diet. They’re not in conflict. One works on the body from the outside. The other works from the inside. Your body doesn’t care where the healing comes from.
Last week, I ran a 5K. Nothing record-breaking. But eighteen months ago I could barely walk up stairs without pain. I crossed the finish line and cried the way you cry when something you imagined becomes something you lived.
That’s the moment I knew I had to write to you. Because somewhere out there, someone is sitting in their kitchen, crying after a bad appointment, feeling like options have run out. They haven’t. The most powerful option is the one no doctor can prescribe: your own belief in what’s possible.
With love and gratitude,
Maria
A Note from Us
Maria’s story is a beautiful reminder that inner work and outer action aren’t opposites. They’re partners. We always encourage listeners to work with their healthcare providers while exploring these practices. The imagination doesn’t replace medicine. It creates the inner conditions where medicine, and healing of all kinds, can work most effectively.
If Maria’s letter resonated with you, sit with this question tonight: What would it feel like to hear the best possible news about your health? Don’t force it. Just let the feeling visit you. And remember, you don’t need to know how healing happens. You just need to stop telling yourself it can’t.
