I was last in an operating theatre 58 Years Ago for the removal of my tonsils. It was not a space I was accustomed to.

I woke from my appendectomy operation – taking out my burst, gangrenous appendix – fighting through the fog of anaesthetics. It was not a normal day when I just got up of my own volition. No, today, the drug world was in control and so I fought valiantly and unsuccessfully.

I tried to stay calm, realising I was not in control, and that distorted my perception. I chatted with the Warriors of Medicine and then allowed myself to lose control and consciousness again. I vaugely remember being wheeled back down the corridor, down in the lift and back to a different bed space. I fondly imagined it was about 8.30 pm and later discovered it was closer to 11.00 pm. My, how time flies when you’re having fun … or an operation that goes for five times as long as anticipated.

This bed space was directly opposite the nurses’ station and, as I was wheeled into place, I was besieged by eight caring and chattering medics. The reason for this new bed space and the concern was that my pulse was down to 39 while I slept and shot up to 50 when I woke. I tried to explain that my 30 years of meditation had given me some control over my Body. I tried, in my drowsy state, to explain that I had requested my body to save as much energy for healing as it could and the unseasonably 39 could be the result of that request. Then, to deal with the state of wakeful sense-making, I had to power my machine up. It happened every time thereafter – 39 while asleep and 50 as soon as I woke. It was a mystery to them and none considered my possible explanation. They probably thought I was bonkers.

What seemed to get in the way of my message was resistance to the thought that we have any mind control over our bodies. The only influence we have, they seemed to think, was at the same level as the body itself; the physical bodily level of knives, needles and chemicals.

We know what we believe. We see what we know. And, if we believe the mind doesn’t affect the body, that’s what we’ll come to know and, therefore, what we’ll observe. I knew I couldn’t change any perceptions – except the ones that wanted to be changed – and simply smiled and beamed out my okayness.

I was fortunate to have spent three months with Jimmy, an Aboriginal elder, near Alice Springs some 15 years ago. I also spent two days with John Imi, a Hopi elder. Both of these men showed me the power of the mind over the body; Jimmy becoming invisible before my eyes and John explaining how his people affected the growth of corn with song and loving thoughts.

My mind was opened to its power and it would not have been if it wasn’t open to being opened!

It’s now morning and the tribe of doctors is visiting and assessing their patients, a phrase heavy with the scent of control, their serious faces giving testimony to the gravity of their beliefs.

At the same time, I overheard a nurse telling my nurse, Nerisza, that it’s so lovely that she’s always smiling. Nerisza’s smiling reply was, “If you’re grumpy, the world will be grumpy with you. It’s much easier for me to be happy.”

Her choice to feel happy shapes her physical world in ways that knives, needles and chemicals cannot.

Yes, we need knives, needles, chemicals and other physical implements of this world but they’re not the only tools for shaping the world we see and experience. The choice to spread happiness with our smiles must be the cheapest, simplest and most effective tools we know.

Note: I really don’t know if my mind dropped my pulse rate to 37 and then up to 50, or if it just happened. It is, however, a coincidence that the four times they took my pulse when I was waking it was 37 – exactly 37 each time. Then, five minutes later, their shock and horror urged them to do it again, it was always up to 50 – exactly 50. We’ve all got to make our minds up on that one.