Tuning the Human Biofield

A repeatable emotional map. After working on hundreds of people, McKusick reports finding the same feelings in the same locations: sadness off the left shoulder, guilt and shame off the right hip, anger stored in the liver, worry about the future off the left side of the head, rumination about the past off the right. Each chakra has left and right imbalances, for example the sacral chakra holds frustration on the left, guilt on the right.

Physical patterns follow. She links a worn-out right hip to a lifetime of guilt-driven overdoing, fibromyalgia to chronically putting others first, and adrenal exhaustion to two distinct stressors: a left adrenal firing under physical threat and a right adrenal firing under social stress.

Borrowed from biophoton researcher Johan Boswinkel, the phrase truth has 144 sides reframed McKusick's whole outlook. If any perspective is only a sliver of the whole, other people's views become necessary rather than threats to argue against. She pairs this with Dunbar's number (the roughly 150 stable relationships a human can maintain), suggesting a cohesive worldview requires that many vantage points.

True versus pseudo-skeptic. Citing psychologist Gary Schwartz, she distinguishes the true skeptic (humble, open to changing their mind with evidence) from the pseudo-skeptic (who reacts with hostility and simply disbelieves). Her challenge to reflexive dismissers: have you actually read the studies showing subtle energy does not exist, or are you repeating what you were told?

Purplewashing is McKusick's term for glossing over uncomfortable feelings by spiritualizing them or being nice, skipping straight past anger to forgiveness, past jealousy to feeling happy for others. Purple stands for spiritual bypassing, mirroring corporate greenwashing. Drawing on neuroscientist Candace Pert, she argues emotions are electrochemical events that, when unexpressed, get stored rather than digested, surfacing later as fat deposits, inflammation, or disease.

Practical antidotes. Say I am having anger instead of I am angry, a shift she notes Romance languages make naturally, to hold the emotion as a passing wave rather than an identity. Cultivate neutrality (neither high nor low) rather than chasing happiness. She cites the claim that 85 percent of disease is stress-driven, meaning driven by unacknowledged emotion.

Anyone can read the field. McKusick insists she has no special powers; she is dyslexic, was called tone-deaf by five voice teachers, and had to learn to hear. Her organization has trained over two thousand people, and she says none failed to feel resistance in the field. Roughly 60 percent are kinesthetic (feeling it in the fingertips), 30 percent auditory (hearing tonal shifts), and 10 percent struggle at first but still stop when they hit something.

The click, drag, and drop technique. Find the edge of a stuck pocket (click), move the vibrating fork toward the body like dragging iron filings with a magnet (drag), stop before the sound dies (drop), then deposit the energy into the body's midline. Doubt and fear, she notes, create static that makes it harder.

A cosmological reframe. McKusick argues we are taught only about solids, liquids, and gases while ignoring plasma, the ionized fourth state that makes up an estimated 99 percent of the universe. She champions the fringe Electric Universe theory, which holds that electricity, not gravity, organizes galaxies along filament-like Birkeland currents. The body mirrors this: collagen, bone, blood, heart, and brain all conduct current.

The Schumann resonance connection. Earth's electromagnetic pulse, a 7.83 Hz standing wave generated by global lightning, sits in the alpha-theta brain-wave range of calm and meditation. Astronauts got sick without it until generators were added to spacecraft. Her weighted forks are tuned to its harmonics to help the body sync with Earth's rhythm.

Self-care as electrical hygiene. McKusick names patterns she sees drain people: the good soldier who never asks for help, the 80 percent syndrome (finishing most of a project but never the last stretch, which she ties to third-chakra energy trapped in unresolved parent wounds), and saying yes when you mean no. Gracious receiving, she argues, is generous because it lets others enjoy giving.

Portable techniques. Flip the spin: instead of blocking someone's bad vibes, catch the energy, feel it briefly, and mentally flick it back with compassion. Hollow bone: empty yourself of your own agenda so you become a neutral witness. And the centering-and-grounding breath, exhaling energy down through the tailbone or feet, prevents absorbing others' distress.

McKusick names clear contraindications, an unusually responsible move for an alternative-modality author. She warns against full sessions for people with pacemakers (sound can disrupt the device's rhythm), pregnancy, and cancer or serious illness, because the work can trigger detox reactions the depleted body cannot process. In her experience, sessions left cancer patients exhausted, as if the body lacked reserves to push the process through.

Best as a supplement, not a rescue. She positions Biofield Tuning as effective for mild to moderate issues (anxiety, pain, PTSD, digestion, stuckness) and best combined with bodywork and nutrition, not as a stand-alone cure once disease is entrenched. She also warns of a detox response where clients feel worse before better, with fatigue, emotional release, or flu-like symptoms lasting a day or two.

The unexpected discovery. McKusick reports that when a person's distortions clear, what remains is invariably harmonious; she kept coming home astonished that the client she worked on was simply great. This contradicted her culturally absorbed belief that humans are flawed or fallen, and led her to a working conviction: at the core of nearly every dysfunction sits the belief I am not worthy.

Words build reality. Drawing on Charles Capps, she argues most people wait for circumstances to change before feeling abundant, when the feeling must come first. She recounts regaining 20/20 vision on a macrobiotic diet but only perceiving it after her optometrist confirmed it, because seeing clearly contradicted her belief I need glasses. We filter reality to match what we already believe possible.