Pip: There is a genre of medical writing where the clinician becomes the case study, and it turns out that genre is significantly more interesting than anything in a standard chart note.
Mara: Today we’re in the territory of Dr. Jen Wyman-Clemons, MD — spiritual possession, energetic intrusion, and what happens when a Reiki session goes somewhere entirely unexpected. Let’s start with the story at the center of it all.
Possession (L.D. #1)
Pip: The setup here is specific: a recently separated physician, trained Reiki master, thirty years of clinical experience, fresh off a silent meditation retreat, steps back into practice and takes on a client. What follows is her attempt to name something that doesn’t have a clean medical label.
Mara: She sets the context directly before describing what shifted during the session itself: “My heart melted. I got the sense that something of his being just jumped into my heart and solar plexus.”
Pip: And she’s not speaking loosely. The post is organized around the premise that spiritual possession — an entity or energetic presence merging with a person’s psyche — is a real phenomenon she experienced firsthand, not metaphor, not projection.
Mara: The hours and days after the session are described in physical terms: “an intense, nearly intrusive, presence — an invigorating and passionate sensation, lodged into my being and me.” She tracks it like a symptom. Sharp under the heart, spreading upward, persistent.
Pip: She also tracks the attempted remedies with the same clinical thoroughness — energetic extractions, formal banishing, sending the presence out from her heart sanctuary. Twice. The result, she writes, is something like a persistent eye twitch: still there, mostly told to leave.
Mara: She’s careful not to let it rest as purely mystical. She names her therapist’s read — that the intensity is filling a need created by the divorce — and her hairstylist’s more pragmatic take that men jump into women’s hearts routinely. She holds all of it without collapsing the question.
Pip: The timing detail is the part that lands hardest. The day this happened was All Saints Day, and she had cancelled a training called “Guardians” — specifically designed to prevent energetic intrusions — because the mystery school running it required a lifelong spiritual commitment, and she had just left a marriage.
Mara: She calls it a “cosmic fart,” which is doing a lot of work as a phrase. The post frames itself as the first in a series — “Love Daemon” and “The Healing” follow — so this is explicitly an opening chapter, not a self-contained account.
Pip: A physician writing her own possession narrative in real time, with footnotes from her divorce attorney. The series has somewhere to go.
Mara: And the next installment picks up exactly where this one leaves off — with the entity still present and the question of what healing actually looks like.
Pip: What stays with me is the precision. Thirty years of clinical training applied to an experience most intake forms don’t have a field for.
Mara: That tension — rigorous observation turned inward on something outside the standard model — is exactly what the series seems built to explore.
