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I was getting a little impatient.  For one thing, I’m used to giving courses,not taking them, so it was kind of strange to be sitting in the audience, ratherthan standing in front of a podium. Much worse was the fact that the courseinstructor turned out to have very bad teaching skills, and a less-than-firmgrasp of his subject matter. Finding yourself thousands of miles from home,forced to listen to a rank amateur for hours on end, can become unbearable.“Now if you please, divide yourselves up into groups of two, one in-structor and one pupil per group. Pupils please stretch out on your back andconcentrate on alpha…” By ‘alpha’ he meant a special kind of relaxation tech-nique he’d taught us earlier. “Each instructor will choose a subject at randomfrom the pile of files on the table over in the corner. Pupils will then attemptto form a mental image of the subject and diagnose his or her health problem.Instructors should take notes and encourage their pupils, without providingany information, of course.” Diagnosing the health problem of a person you’ve never met seemedlike a ludicrous idea to me. On the other hand, although highly skeptical, Iwas thrilled to actually be doing something at last. I turned to Sylvie, anacquaintance of mine, who also happened to be taking the course.

“I think your highly developed sense of feminine intuition makes you anatural candidate for the pupil role. What do you think?”“Okay,” she said. “You go and pick out a file.”People were busy pairing off, making space for themselves in the large,luxurious conference room of the hotel we were staying at, a Hilton. I was thefirst to pick up a case file, a single typewritten sheet with the name, age andaddress of a person neither of us knew, and a description of the health prob-lem we were supposed to diagnose.Sylvie stretched out on the thick carpet.“Now breathe deeply and relax,” I said. She closed her eyes and sloweddown her respiration. “Get in touch with your alpha energy. Tell me whenyou’re ready.”She was so still she already seemed far away.“Ready… “ she said.“I’m going to count to three. On the count of three, you are going to forma mental picture of Mr. Mario Mantella, 55 years old, from Naples, Italy. Youwill perform a careful and complete examination, and tell me what you find.”I waited, curious to hear what she’d say, convinced she’d be making it allup. Suddenly her breathing speeded up and her eyeballs started flutteringbeneath closed lids. “No… no…” she gasped, shivering and breathing evenfaster. It was when her body began writhing in pain that I started to panic.