Changes, Passages, Virtues & Vices

I feel as if some subtle but major changes are turning over inside me, some small movement where there was only slumber. Even though I have been working towards change to greater and less degrees for a few years now, in the last day or two there is a sense of something ‘different’ arising.

Last night while lying in bed I thought about ‘the way we write’, how it needs to feel ‘right’ for the writer/artist, and for the reader/target audience, too. Unless you are writing only for yourself, your voice is always heard by someone else, even if it is only, as they say, from your mouth to God’s ear. That seems to me, to be how nature always completes the loop; when there’s a cause, there follows an effect; when there’s a transmitter, there’s a receptor, even when we cannot always see it. Nature always completes the picture, however long it takes. Not only that, the picture is always harmonious in the end. It may not necessarily be what we perceive as happy ending, but there is always a sense of peace, of resolution, of the pieces that were flying before now falling into place – a sense of 'rightness'.

You could say there is really no ‘end’ if it is a loop, and that is true. In the greater scheme of things there is no ending nor beginning. It is only because human lives are finite that we conceive of finiteness. What would our world be like if we do not have that concept? I imagine we would breathe a huge collective sigh of relief, let go of fear the size of the North American continent, and maybe, just maybe, free ourselves from the black-and-white absolutes of fundamental beliefs that have limited the human race for so long.
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Just read about ‘owning’ your own feelings, and I ask myself, do I own my feelings? I don’t, usually. More often than not, I’m not even aware of disowning them. The switch has been on the OFF position for so long that I’ve forgotten it.
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Well, my feet are nearly back to their usual selves, but my upper palate starting from the gumline is now swollen. First the bottom, now the top too. Perhaps I’m having some internal reflowing, which is different than restructuring, because it is more about flushing, washing, cleansing, draining, re-establishing channels of flow where there was drought or stagnation, putting out the flames of inflammation, and connecting a lot of dots in my entire being, with the flow of fluids. And perhaps the new moon in Libra will bring the balance necessary for my state of being.

Both Michael and I have had ‘downloading’ symptoms post-Warrior Dance: fatigue, nausea or churning in stomach/solar plexus, reduced appetite. Even Nemo has been somewhat not-himself. Yesterday he was actually LATE for his mealtimes all day – this NEVER happens – normally he’s right on time or earlier, and last night he actually stopped chasing his crunchies and went to his bed voluntarily. When we went to bed he came in, got in beside Michael for some cuddling, and slept there the whole night. Un-usual. Perhaps we are all feeling the cosmic churnings of seasonal change, celestial placements, and ceremonial energy...
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I wonder if they have rites of passage for all stages of life at the Fire? I haven’t seen nor heard of any, but it would be so wonderful to have...
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I am reading a passage in John Lee’s Growing Yourself Back up about a young man who had regressed into believing John was the father who never paid him any attention when he was a child, never ‘saw’ him. He was upset and angry at John for not making eye contact with him the whole morning. After going through the Detour Method with one of the senior staff there, he was able to see his regression. As I read this, I felt my heart open and my tear ducts followed. In my head I think, wow, I’ve become so easily moved by even little stories like this... I guess the best way to heal my conflict with heart types is by becoming one.

Speaking of Enneatypes, I did what I do once in a while and checked up on myself by reading the basic description – virtues and vices, as they are called – to see whether I’ve made any self-improvement. Well, taking into consideration my personal bias (that it’s difficult to see yourself), my self-assessment tells me that what I’ve really improved on is: Stay with people and ideas long enough to discover their gifts. I would give myself an A for this one. The other vices,

• Cultivate self discipline and focus
• Follow through
• Make commitments and keep them
• Listen deeply. Stay in the present moment
• Be willing to be with pain and not just try to fix it.

Well, I may be better with these than I was, say 5 or 10 years ago, but if I’m honest with myself I would have to admit that I still break out into a rash when I hear the “D” word (discipline), and my stomach clenches reflexively when the “C” word (commitment) is mentioned. It’s not that I can’t be disciplined or commit, it is that as soon as they are dished out to be as such, I feel this big iron cage drop down over me and bolts are immediately driven into the floor, with high-voltage currents running through the metal bars but never high enough to kill me. This plunks me smack in the middle of the core fear of the 7: trapped, in pain forever, because I can’t even die as an escape. Sounds like a past-life trauma... hmmm...

Commitment, and Discipline. My life’s work is cut out for me with these 2 words.

Words for Michael (O’Perfectionist) are: Playful, Serenity, and Surrender.

Warrior Dance Weekend... in Retrospect

Came back from a weekend of the Warrior Dance at the Fire yesterday afternoon. We are both still in recovery... the edema in my feet is much reduced...

I had worked myself into a sore neck and back before we went, and had to go get a massage to loosen some of it. Incredible how I can work myself to that same state of tension even just sitting on the couch, reading, typing on my laptop, feeling obligated to write down everything that’s coming out of me... I’ve replaced pressure to work from an external source to an internal one... the Slavemaster lives inside of me, alas...

Even though I was there only as a supporter and helper, and had no expectations of gain for myself, much of the energy from the ceremony and gathering came into me in surprising ways...
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Saturday, August 28, 2010

During the ceremony I happened to check my centres and found that my heart and head were open, but my belly was not. As I opened it I felt energy move in my body, as if I’ve been closing myself from the world outside, my gates are fortified by the fat and muscle that are built up on my abdomen. Will this need to isolate myself end when the split in me heals??

It occurred to me that I always feel empty when I am at the Fire, there’s little thought in my head, almost no anxiety in my body, and I feel neutral, as if emotionless. Not hyper nor sluggish, just evenly coasting. Even someone like B. whom I find I am emotionally allergic to, has begun to break through my defenses, or shall we say, my resistance to her has softened a little, allowing me to see her humanness, even though she is as emotionally manipulative as ever.

But the question to myself is, why does it bother me so much? Could I have been the victim of such misuse of feminine wile (that men are also capable of) in a past life (because I am not aware of such trauma in this one)? My body says yes. How to heal it, my body?

I saw in my mind’s eye a young milkmaid or scullery maid with her head covered in a kerchief. She is putting away pails in a room. She is plain looking with eyes wide apart and freckles on her cheeks. Her beloved young man was stolen by another girl who played the damsel in distress on his kind, heroic nature. But the truth is, the girl was needy, and he needed to be needed. I realized then that I was the milkmaid, and I was not the needy type. Even though I loved him, it was a projection of myself I was in love with, my own kind and generous nature that was banished to my shadow because I was taught to keep my sympathy to myself. A noble nature will only make you a fool who others will take easy advantage of.

I know now that they were better suited to each other. His unconscious neediness attracted her conscious one, and vice versa, because they were mirror images of the same thing. Just as light is always attached to shadow, that is how attraction works. I also know that this does not make them soulmates if that’s the only common ground they have. The attraction brought them to each other so that they have a chance to work through their own issues and grow together. In this way, each may complete hirself (my new word for his/herself) and find the oneness that they sought for in the first place. What we all seek.

Is knowing this story and bringing it to resolution enough to heal my wound? No, that was insight, now I need to do personal work on it... I need to mourn the loss of my attachment to him, thank him for what he has given me – the light of his goodness, and most of all, the revelation of my own shadow material, so that I can rejoice in finding that part of myself, my giving, generous spirit and my empathetic heart, and allow it expression for the good of all.

I can now find it in myself to forgive B. because I can empathize with her need for a defence mechanism, which indeed we all have. It doesn’t mean I want to be in the same room with her, if I had choice, because there are more issues general to heart types that I have... It is true that they try to impress and get their way with their “heartness”, just as I do with my “headness” (knowledge, analysis, synthesis, arrogance, superiority), and in my superior arrogance, I see them as “unawakened” and perpetuating their neuroses, when that’s exactly what I’m doing myself in those moments.

There really is no one out there but myself.
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During our second sweat lodge I realized suddenly that the one I truly want is God/dess, Creator, Source. What I saw in all the men that I’ve ever loved are tiny pieces of Source, but it is the whole I long for. And then I realized how blessed I am, to have been living alongside four beautiful young men for the last couple of days, being moved by their energy, grace and passion, seeing each of them starting to unfold as a rare and unique flower, so different from each other. I found them endlessly fascinating and felt content just to sit back and drink in their loveliness. I felt my heart open with much love for them even though I hardly know them. This came with perfect timing, just when I’ve been working intensively on healing the split in myself, my years of rage and resentment under patriarchal rule, with men as the objects of my hatred and blame... I only wish I had begun to work on myself way back then, as these young people have.

Sometime during the day I noticed that my feet have begun to swell, after I started to scratch the bug bites I got the night before. By dinnertime they were difficult to move with and some blisters were appearing. There was no pain or other concomitant symptoms. I wondered if it had a deeper cause, such as emotional stagnation, but couldn’t really pinpoint anything. Perhaps the full moon in Pisces a couple of days ago affected me in a stronger way, as astrogrrl said it would.
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Sunday, August 29, 2010

My feet are the same, no worse than yesterday, but a big nasty looking blister has appeared on the right one.

The fasting dancers are looking better than they did last night, less wilted and droopy, especially after being told they had another morning to endure before the whole thing concludes. At the end of the closing ceremony this morning they shared their experience and thoughts from the weekend, and my heart was overfilled with their feelings and my own, I cried from the first to the last one. Thankfully I didn’t have to speak, I don’t think I could have.

Perhaps the swelling in my feet is the grounding of this emotional overwhelm for me, but also an emotional allergic reaction I have to heart types, and all the love I felt in the presence of EVERYONE at the lodge, and all the unshed tears dammed up inside me breaking through, and the Pisces moon calling me to surrender, and my prayer to my warrior to help me surrender more of myself, and the day we had without water at the farmhouse, and all the talk about water in dreams and in crisis... Perhaps it is all of these things coming together this weekend, that the empty vessel of my being has been filled to overflowing, stirred up, and washed out, that I crashed finally with exhaustion and nausea in my solar plexus (where Diane said our spirit lives) after we came home.
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More or less back into ‘normal’ life now, 7:35pm, I thought I would work on my dreams from the weekend. But then I noticed that I want to check on my emails too, and there seems to be more I want to be doing all in this moment... This is by no means something new, just more intense now and then. I am still being driven by that same belief which came up in a dream 2 weeks ago, still haven’t worked on it...

So, my body, why do I whip myself into this industrious frenzy? Because industriousness is a time-honoured virtue of the highest order, in and of itself, however, if not tempered with a balanced amount of its opposite – rest – then virtue becomes vice, or at least an imbalance, an illness. Like everything under the sun, too much good kills.

Is it discernment of moderation that’s needed then? Yes, but more than that. It is also satiety, knowing when to stop for good. What is it that I’m not satiated with where industry is concerned? It is the ‘good’ feeling I get when I’m ‘producing’, the good feeling that comes from knowing that I will be rewarded with renumeration or praise or approval or pleasure or love, candy for my ego. Hmmm, guess who has the biggest sweet tooth??! And why I have cravings!!? It is true, when I am satiated with love, I hardly think about eating. So if A=B then it follows that not feeling filled with love = endless craving for comfort food on the physical level, or, chase after the dangling carrot of reward that’s always just out of reach, because that big hole inside can only be filled with self love, divinely connected.

There’s no cure for this except piece by healing piece as I work through layers of myself, that as the way becomes clearer, love flows in freely and I am filled.

Discovering Discovery Trail

Did my 3km+ walk last night and explored the Discovery Trail on the other side of the beach and boardwalk. What a different feeling of space as soon as you enter the woodland. The air settled down around me like a muted bell made of gauze, the texture nearly palpable. Humidity hung still with only an occasional liftlet, surprising me with smells that I never thought possible in the middle of the city. I took more deep breaths than I normally would in weeks.

If, like astrogrrl advised, that I release something with every deep breath, lightness of being will soon be a way of life for me ☺

The sculpted path meanders along the waters of the marina, on this Sunday evening it was completely at rest except for clusters of water fowls bobbing and dipping in serious leisure. I suppose I am in serious leisure too, along with the guy sitting on the dock staring with serious absorption at the water. Here and there were trees in various stages of death and dying. I felt sad about them only because I could not see in that moment what will come in their place, though I want faith in Providence and Source that we will all be cared for, to our deepest needs.

As I write this last sentence I felt the familiar congestive pain in the right side of my chest, radiating towards my arm. I asked my body for help. Is this a pathological illness on the physical level? No. Is it strictly psychosomatic? Yes. (But it feels so physical! Ouch!) I took a couple of deep breaths. Hmmm. It is because I was trying to control, trying to control how I wanted my words to appear in that sentence. It is a symptom that appears when I vie for control of a situation (such as traffic), a thought (such as a belief), a feeling (such as fear); when I try to override with my will without discerning what is wisdom; when I resist what ought to be; when I don’t listen to my body, my higher knowing. I apologize for my negligence and carelessness, and resolve to surrender myself with more conviction.

Surrender is the only ritual I need. Thank you, Source and my body, for this reminder.

A World Without Darkness

Found this on the web, someone’s vision statement:

"Imagine a world where money was no longer the means of exchange of services but rather love and enthusiasm as its primary exchange. A world full of love and so much diversity that each individual’s enthusiasm became the driving force behind one’s life work and one’s life work was as distinctive as one’s own fingerprint. A world where every job and every service had its own caretaker that performed its tasks with so much love and care they freely wanted to giveaway these services. Tell me? What would this world look like? A world of harmony and service where all needs were met and provided by someone that was just as equally grateful to give as well as they were ready to receive. A world of haves without the not’s. A world of abundance without the lack. A world of love without the suffering. Can you imagine this?"

Hmmm... In light of what I have learned these past few years, and what I have just read in “Owning Your Own Shadow” by Robert Johnson, I see a certain danger in some parts of the above ‘vision’ for a desired future. “A world of haves without the not’s. A world of abundance without the lack. A world of love without the suffering.” Sounds like a world without darkness, without loss, without destruction, without a chance to learn and grow... No, I do not want to imagine a world like that, much less live in one.

I’ve always loved the Prayer of St. Francis of Assissi, now it humbles me even more with its profound wisdom:

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen."

In true humility he asked to be an instrument in bringing the naturally-occurring opposites (love, pardon, faith, hope, light, and joy) of these parts of human nature – hatred, desire to injure, doubt, despair, darkness, sadness – into balance of harmony. But he never once asked to have the ‘bad’ stuff eradicated, erased, annihilated, not even denigrated, for he knew that this is as it should be, in order for life to go on.

This is the Great Order of things, one that we can only begin to know as we move toward wholeness.

In the meantime, I too say, Amen – Thy Will Be done.

And in the meantime, though I that I too, am not above running for the light when I am scared, please give me all the darkness that I can handle, that I need, for growth, healing, and wisdom.

An Overview of a Moment

Just thinking that perhaps I ought to take stock of my life at this moment, see if I can get an overview, or at least a sense of one, of the ‘where I’ve been, where I’m at, and where I’m going’ variety. This feels important to do now for some reason, as if I’ve come to a mental crossroad, and I need to be forward-facing the right direction, resolutely taking leave of what’s behind me.

I have been a relentless reader since I could read, let’s face it, a big bookworm. It is something I’ve never ever outgrown, not even for a minute. It is the one thing I could NOT love more. Everything and everyone else has come and gone in my life, except for my love of reading. It means a lot in someone whose life’s theme is change, that this one thing stands like a faithful beacon of light amidst the elements of a fickle nature :). It is true I also love change, but there are times when I don’t want change, which is never the case with reading.

I suppose I would love writing just as much, if insatiability isn't at the core of my personality (Enneatype 7). I eat and eat and eat books, and seldom stop long enough to see what I am to do with it, perhaps not even to burp. When I was still quite young I used to write short pieces of prose, for fun, for myself. They were lighthearted, even dreamlike, impressions I had from my childhood days. The last piece I wrote when I was 15, a personal essay about leaving my homeland and moving to Canada. Then nothing (except for school) until the last couple of months.

It’s interesting to see how my writing has always been emotionally descriptive and detailed, rather ‘wet’, I would say, and in sharp contrast to how I appear as a person, thoughtful, aloof, and reticent. ‘Dry’, I would say. Gemini on the outside, Pisces on the inside, like a yellow M&M.

But what I want now is not so much to change that, but to move on in the natural progression of things. I’ve eaten long and plenty, it’s time to pump up the digestive juices and assimilate the goodies. It feels like this is where I’m at, in the early stage of assimilation, allowing nutrients to be absorbed and sent to the appropriate destinations for the next stage, synthesis, which has also begun, where the necessary parts and bits can be created, manifested into form, and finally purpose can be fulfilled in movement and function. This is how creativity (of body and of soul) comes into full expression, the way I see it.

But the overview of all this, my body tells me, is more than what I’ve gotten down so far. There is more to where I’m going, but in this instance the physical kind. I will travel for more ‘eating’, and the subsequent digesting, assimilating, and so on. This will be new ‘food’ for fodder for me, as I’ve never travelled extensively.

That’s it, my body says.

Funny how the image of eating long and plenty at a familiar table brought to mind the numerous dreams I’ve had of being at a banquet. Perhaps this is giving me new insights about my dreams, that banquets are about my insatiability, markets and stores are about my wanderlust and aimlessness, and toilets are about suppressed and wasted creative potentials. These are issues I’ve been into deeply and all around in my innerwork, and my dreams have been a beloved, constant companion (I think of dog, my first and best friend) to me all these years. I thank you everlastingly, my dreams.
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Had a serendipitous experience just now, at Dufflet Bakery, where I went to get Michael a little birthday cake and treat myself to an away-from-home reading/musing time with an iced coffee and lemon tart. On the way there I had gone into Midoco Art Supplies on an impulse and asked about job application, thinking that working 5 minute-walk away from home would be a pretty good deal. By the time I tucked into my coffee and tart I noticed that I had a tension headache. For a couple of seconds I allowed myself to think it might be the coffee, but BONK! went the clarion to the head, again, and the light went on, again. I have betrayed my true self yet another time, by looking for a just-for-the-money job, when I’ve just been told by my dreams not to prostitute myself, merely a day ago, and POW! a headache blooms red and loud pretty much instantly... Now I know how the Catholics feel, having to repent and confess a sin they’ve committed over and over again, or perhaps more like Peter the Disciple, denying Christ 3 times in a row despite his best intentions to be true to his master...

The flesh is indeed weak, and the devil lives in our fears... yet, I am amongst the blessed that I am warned time and again from straying off my true path, and suffering no greater repercussion than a few metaphysical bonks to the head. God is truly merciful, I think, for the first time in my life.

My Environmental Phobia - Part 1

Monday, August 16, 2010

No dream recall, but did a session of yoga nidra. The thought came that I had asked for help with healing my ‘other people taking up too much space’ issue last night, which was brought on by a 3 couples blocking most of the boardwalk while discussing and fawning over each other's dogs and their own, a phenomenon frequently seen in the Beaches. It reminded me also that I feel the same huge flare-up of anger when there’s a screaming child around. In both scenarios I feel my space has been invaded, my right imfringed upon, and my peace threatened, but I know these are frontline defenses, and not the real cause. Do the 2 scenarios have the same cause? My body says no. I’ll have to go into each separately.

In the first situation, as I drop deeper into the feelings and sensations, I see the offenders as arrogant fatcats who think they have a god-given birthright to take as they will, who are impervious to other people’s needs and suffering. The rights of the feudal lords who, even without meaning to, can oppress those lower born. Many of my ancestors were born into and lived a mule-like existence, powerless against their fate, until one day the bitter bile rose too high to swallow anymore, and one by one they joined each other in the name of their common suffering, and finally a revolution is born. Just as it’s been done many times before and will be again, the under-privileged and over-oppressed are united by the basic animal desire for freedom, freedom to choose how they want to live their lives, and to pass it on as a legacy to their children.

Did they win their battles? History shows us that some were won, though many were lost, but I’m not interested in statistics. I am incontrovertible proof that they won in the end, their bloodshed and losses were not in vain, for I live today as the privileged and free, empowered with the right to choose how I wish to live my life. But I carry in me still, the all-consuming rage, resentment and despair of those of my forebearers who died without ever tasting freedom, the debt to their disenfranchized spirit unpaid.

Today I mourn for the losses they endured, the sacrifices they’ve made on behalf of their descendants, on my behalf. So I honour you, my many ancestors, and I am deeply grateful for all that you’ve done to carve out this path that I am on, it has come such a long way. I do not know how to repay this debt except with my own life, to live my life as authentically, creatively, and fully human as possible, and to share with you in spirit, the immense joy, peace, gratitude, and fulfillment that is our true birthright. I know you will be there with me as you are with me now, and I vow to you that I will do my very best to heal our wounds, tend to our spirits, and move us towards wholeness.

I can feel energy and power pulsing and flowing from my hands and arms into my body and down my legs, where it goes it opens and expands and enlarges me.

Am I ready now for the second issue? No. Later.

'Getting' Surrender

Down by the lake... big waves roiling up the shore in a tight roll, dropping 2 words at my feet: In company. I pondered this, squinting my mind down the years of my life, I saw that even though I’ve always thought myself a loner, always tripping by myself along the edge of the road, when in fact I’ve NEVER been alone. Never been without human company, in mind or body, and I know now that I’ve never been without divine company either. How could I claim to yearn for solitude, when I’ve never ever been alone. Never want a drink of water, ‘til the wells run dry.

The sky darkens along the boardwalk, R.’s face from my dream floats into my mind, a lighter, gentler face. I wondered why it keeps coming to me. There’s something expectant in his eyes, as if he’s almost urgently waiting to tell me something. Something I really need to know. What does he represent to me, in me? More than the first awakening of passion, it was the intensity of feelings, the depth of my surrender. The more I surrendered, the freer I felt, and the more I freed myself, the more alive I felt. It was the acute and immense aliveness that I had never experienced before, and never since. That complete capitulation and giving in of oneself can feel so good surprised and delighted me to the core. And I miss it terribly.

Surrender -> Freedom -> Aliveness

I was on fire inside and out, and I cared not a jot even if it were to consume me. I just wanted to keep burning bright. (Was that what is meant by joie de vivre?) I know now that it can happen only when masculine and feminine energy come together, each surrender into the other, and wholeness, Oneness, is manifested. I must allow my feminine to surrender herself to my masculine, and vice versa, an unconditional surrender.

For 2 years now I’ve been talking about surrender, trying to surrender, perhaps I’ve finally made it into the ballpark?

My First Yoga Nidra Practice

TWILIGHT: A scene from a bad breakup came floating up from the depths, beckoning me to do something... It’s one I’ve gone over at least a dozen times, but I’ll dig down again... Need my body to help me with this...

It’s not the pain nor the trauma, it’s not the rejection nor the humiliation, it’s not something I need to heal either... It is something I need to let go, the feeling that I am undesirable, not good enough, and the powerlessness it left me with, as if there’s nothing I can do about it, all I could do is give up and slunk away. This experience has knocked the wind out of my sails in a big way, and apparently I’ve never recovered...

My body, how do I let this all go, I do not feel I know how? I’ve had images and a sense of being stabbed in the heart from the front and the back since that time, though i've done healing work on that. But I can feel now that it was also a heavy kick to my gut, and I am down on my knees hugging myself, trying to get my next breath. Have I been like this all this time?! Is this why I’ve grown a thicker and thicker layer of padding over my belly? I’ve lost a big chunk of myself – my self-confidence and image and personal will. I feel like crying in self-pity and shock, I had no idea I’d lost so much.

My body knew, and carried it all this time. Please help me let it go now. But what is it that I need to let go? The powerlessness. Yoga nidra. I will play my new yoga nidra CD by Richard Miller now.

When we began, my whole body felt unsettled, as if I’m straining against some small but pervasive restraints, like Oliver being tied down by the tiny people. There was a knot of tightness like a dense ball in my solar plexus, and my forehead felt tense. As we moved into sensing the opposites, I could feel more ‘stuff’, like straw sticking out here and there, in my left side; my right side felt more clear and empty. I felt calmness in the interior of my lower back, and anger in my forearms. When instructed to see my personality walking into a party in front me, I saw a tall beautiful young woman, the typical fashion model type, but sassy and confident without arrogance, ready to engage with the crowd with equanimity. She carried a natural self-possession without need of exaggeration or diminution. She completely accepts herself as is. She knows she is beautiful and desirable, because she has always been. She hasn’t had to do a thing about it.

I don’t know whether I was instructed to do this next part by the CD, but taking the stance of the observer and seeing parts of myself at a distance, I suddenly saw the powerlessness I carried as a big lump of whitish tissue, something between brain and dense fat, something I held in my hands like a ball of dough. I knew then that I could now let this go. I surrendered it to the universe with my thanks and blessing, and where the dense ball in my solar plexus was, there is now empty space. This is where I can integrate the glowing natural beauty of my self-confidence, the radiance of my personal will, a vision of lovableness.

I am deeply grateful for this healing, for yoga nidra, for Richard Miller, my body, and Source.

It also occurred to me that this powerlessness I carried began a long time ago, but it manifested as padding on my body when I started to try and hide it, and has been building up ever since. I think of the people I know who are slender in the waist, and even though pretty much everyone experiences powerlessness, these people wore their powerlessness on the outside. They did not try to appear strong or tough or unaffected, instead they express their feelings of powerlessness, although this may not necessarily be a conscious choice. The Tuberculars (a miasm in homeopathy) are probably of this presentation, that’s why they tend to be slender to emaciated. But the powerlessness in their case pathologizes as grief and sadness, causing them to drown, in their lungs.

During the session I also had a sudden insight, that Michael does empathize with me, on the deep personal level, that he accepts and encourages and supports me wholeheartedly in this time of change. I am truly blessed.

A Twilight Healing on the Spiral

TWILIGHT: A scene from a bad breakup came floating up from the depths, beckoning me to do something... It’s one I’ve gone over at least a dozen times, but I’ll dig down again... Need my body to help me with this...

It’s not the pain nor the trauma, it’s not the rejection nor the humiliation, it’s not something I need to heal either... It is something I need to let go, the feeling that I am undesirable, not good enough, and the powerlessness it left me with, as if there’s nothing I can do about it, all I could do is give up and slunk away. This experience has knocked the wind out of my sails in a big way, and apparently I’ve never recovered...

My body, how do I let this all go, I do not feel I know how? I’ve had images and a sense of being stabbed in the heart from the front and the back since that time, but I can feel now that it was also a heavy kick to my gut, and I am down on my knees hugging myself, trying to get my next breath. Have I been like this all this time?! Is this why I’ve grown a thicker and thicker layer of padding over my belly? I’ve lost a big chunk of myself – my self-confidence and image and personal will. I feel like crying in self-pity and shock, I had no idea I’d lost so much.

My body knew, and carried it all this time. Please help me let it go now. But what is it that I need to let go? The powerlessness. Yoga nidra. I will play my new yoga nidra CD by Richard Miller now.

As I began, my whole body felt unsettled, as if I’m straining against some small but pervasive restraints, like Oliver being tied down by the tiny people. There was a knot of tightness like a dense ball in my solar plexus, and my forehead felt tense. As we moved into sensing the opposites, I could feel more ‘stuff’, like straw sticking out here and there, in my left side; my right side felt more clear and empty. I felt calmness in the interior of my lower back, and anger in my forearms. When instructed to see my personality walking into a party in front me, I saw a tall beautiful young woman, the typical fashion model type, but sassy and confident without arrogance, ready to engage with the crowd with equanimity. She carried a natural self-possession without need of exaggeration or diminuition. She completely accepts herself as is. She knows she is beautiful and desirable, because she has always been. She hasn’t had to do a thing about it.

I don’t know whether I was instructed to do this next part by the CD, but taking the stance of the observer and seeing parts of myself at a distance, I suddenly saw the powerlessness I carried as a big lump of whitish tissue, something between brain and fat, something I held in my hands like a ball of dough. I knew then that I could let this go. I surrendered it to the universe with my thanks and blessing, and where the dense ball in my solar plexus was, there is now empty space. This is where I can integrate the glowing natural beauty of my self-confidence, the radiance of my personal will, a vision of lovableness.

I am deeply grateful for this healing, for yoga nidra, for Richard Miller, my body, and Source.

It also occurred to me that this powerlessness I carried began a long time ago, but it manifested as padding on my body when I started to try and hide it, and has been building up ever since. I think of the people I know who are slender in the waist, and even though pretty much everyone experiences powerlessness, these people wore their powerlessness on the outside. They did not try to appear strong or tough or unaffected, instead they expressed their feelings of powerlessness, although this may not necessarily be a conscious choice. The Tuberculars (a miasm in homeopathy) are probably of this presentation, that’s why they tend to be slender to emaciated. But the powerlessness in their case pathologizes as grief and sadness, causing them to drown, in their lungs.

During the session I also had a sudden insight, that Michael does empathize with me, on the deep personal level, that he accepts and encourages and supports me wholeheartedly in this time of change. I am truly blessed.

Seeing Neediness

Reading Growing Youself Back Up: Understanding Emotional Regression by John Lee, where he talked about the needs in a relationship, and I feel I need to ask the question in my own relationships, What do I need most from Michael/my dad/my mom/my sister/Nemo, etc.? What do they need most from me?




• What I need from Michael is more resonance, such as when he gives me insights or answers to my deeper questions about my dreams, not only did I feel it hit the mark, I also felt understood and reciprocated on the soul level. I want this kind of resonance on all levels. This is my idea of a soulmate.
• What (I think) he needs from me is more show (especially verbally) of unconditional love and acceptance, and reassurance that I will not give up on him or our relationship no matter what.

• What I need from my dad is...
• What (I think) he needs from me is...

• What I need from my mom is...
• What (I think) she needs from me is...

• What I need from my sister is...
• What (I think) she needs from me is...

• What I need from Nemo is...
• What (I think) he needs from me is...

It occurs to me that it is possible one is getting what one needs from the other in the relationship, but could not see it through the filters one has (rose-tinted or otherwise), that it is not to one’s expectation of what it should look like...

In the book, John Lee mentioned that what we do give the other in the relationship is often what we want from the other person. In my case the example would be, I give Michael lots of what I consider feedback and solutions to a problem, to show him that I heard and understood, and want to help with suggestions or action. These are the indications of ‘resonance’ I want from him. And similarly, he gives me what he needs from me.

I think Mr. Lee has hit on a very simple and elegant yet laser-like method of finding out what the needs are in a relationship, and quite possibly also a way to guage the ‘success’ of the relationship.

What is unspoken but implicit in the pairs of statements above is that one is NOT getting enough of what one needs from the other in the relationship, but knowing with some clarity once these statements are written and/or acknowledged, it certainly gives you pause, at first, then a chance to weigh your options after the following questions are answered:

Can I and do I want to try and meet the needs of the other in the relationship?
Can I and ought I to talk to them about it?
And finally – Will they try to meet mine?

It also brings forth another question for me: Does every relationship have needs? Or, Can there be a relationship without needs? For example, if Nature does not need anything from me, or I do not need anything from Nature, can we still relate? I think not, there will be no need for a relationship. And if that’s the case, then it is not that neediness is unhealthy in a relationship, but that the needs are met reciprocally, throughout the ebbs and fluxes, feast or famine, balance is always sought and attained. Every relationship is then co-dependent or interdependent by nature, the dependency is what the bond is made of, but love can grow out of that bond as well as hate, it depends (pun!) on what each of us brings to the relationship, and what kind of work we are willing to put into it.

So, co-dependancy must imply an imbalance, otherwise it wouldn’t be the bad guy it has been labeled as in popular psychology. Depending on each other to fulfil our needs is a big part of what brought us together and keeps us together in a relationship, until, of course, such time when we are able to heal ourselves enough to draw upon our own inner resources of course, but fortunately and unfortunately, we mortals seldom attain such perfect self-sufficiency without a hefty price to pay. This, our neediness in all of our relationships – individual, communal, universal – is the web that holds us together. Although it is true not all that glitters is gold that’s clinging to the web, even when it is cruel and destructive, it is still full of the kind of power and beauty that can floor us, as long as we can find meaning in it or from it. But meaning is personal and can only be had when we see it or feel it with our deepest self. Looking at needs in a relationship this way takes the judgment and prejudice out of it, and you could say that as long as balance is maintained in the meeting of those needs in a relationship, no one outside the said relationship ought to interfere or intercede, even in the case of what we judge to be abuse. This is the way all the rest of Nature operates, so is it wise for us humans to believe and behave otherwise?

We can act with equal love and compassion toward the abused AND the abuser, as both are victims, make help available to each by way of healing their deepest wounds, for there can be no doubt that these wounds are the cause of all of the imbalance and abuse in their relationship. NEVER exercise any power over the making or breaking of their relationship, even if it means life and death, for we have no right nor dominion over that either, as they say in the Bible. But I fear that in our quest for order and control and power we have crossed that line most self-righteously and irrevocably. Nevertheless I have faith that Nature still holds the ace-in-the-hole, that ultimately we are not in charge or control of anything, and I thank God and Goddess for that.

Catching up to August...

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

It’s a cool, damp morning, the air smells of swampy water. Second day of my cleanse/diet, so far so good. I am eating a dinner of ezekiel toasts and a cup of veg broth that Michael has made, with a few shrimp in it for protein. This seems to suffice.

Reading Vivian Gornick’s “The Situation and the Story: the art of personal narrative”... a memoir is an answer to the question, ‘Who am I?’ The writing needs to entice the reader along with wanting to know the answer to this question, ‘Who is this person?’, as the memoirist continues to excavate the archeological layers of herself, her life, her story, hold the pieces in her hands, then add it to the alchemical pot that’s simmering in her belly, and eventually extract the metaphysical gold of wisdom and insight. When this process of transformation is presented from its essence, both writer and reader are healed.

Of course, this calls in the writer the requisite courage and will to dig down into herself, with just the right mixture of dexterity and tenderness to tease out the find, and the paramount patience to allow the piece to come to life again and tell its story. Finally, and I think this is the juncture where the writer can choose to take the story to its fullest purpose, by embracing all that she’s found with genuine love and acceptance, back into herself (I say this as if in redundancy, but I see it clearly as a physical act with visceral sensations). For I believe where this goes, is where the deepest self is, and incidentally now, where a story ought to take the reader.

According to Gornick, there has been a surge of memoir-writing in the past 2 or 3 decades because we have become more and more so, a nation of lonely and isolated individuals, quarantined inside the sterile cells of our conditioning.


Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Days are trickling by, like sand. In twilight, I discovered that I am to read The Wizard of Oz, the first two of the Four Quartets, and finish The Situation and the Story today. I am also to take a dose Manganese 200C tonight.

My brother, my cousin Polly, who was practising the kungfu of blockchopping, were in my dream. I was trying to get a ride home, but my brother had disappeared into the crowd.

For the last few days I’ve not felt like working on the dreamstuff I do remember, not even really making an effort to remember. Perhaps because I’ve got more than enough to work on right now, I need to deepen into some of the work I’ve done so far. Step after digestion: assimilation. Stop eating, for the most part, in mind, body and spirit. Although I continue to dream, little bits of them drop like seeds onto the land bordering my consciousness and the unconscious, tiny clues written on the wall, in twilight.


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Three hours after dropping Nemo of at my parents, we arrived at Wolfden Bunkhouse & Cabins near Oxtongue Lake, Algonquin, earlier than anticipated, only to find that it is a private room that we booked, not a private cabin. There were no private cabins available. Michael was visibly upset and ready to give up and go home, as it is his usual response to most things failing his expectations. And as usual in our relationship, one that constantly strives for balance like most relationships, the Eternal Optimist (me!) stepped up to the plate and tried to save the day. This time she succeeds (pat on the head :). Okay, okay, it was just our good fortune and grace, we found one vacancy just up the road at Parkway Cottage Resort, with everything we wanted except drinking water (tap water tastes of chlorine). It is owned by a friendly English family which, unfortunately, is friends with the bagpiper across the lake serenading the lakehood with amateur performances every evening. That being the only blemish in our choice of accommodation, we are really quite content.

We drove into the park in the afternoon and hiked the 0.8km trail to Hardwood Lookout, a gorgeous lake vista framed by deeply lush evergreens and backed by a perfect summer sky. Michael made a tobacco offering and we sat and took in blessed Nature all around. Given that I’ve never really connected to Nature in this way or scope, I would say that this new openness and budding love I feel for Nature – and I mean the whole of Nature, not just animals, or flowers – could only be something sacred, to have this kind of power over me.

Noticing the miniature and half-hidden such as all the different types of mushrooms, berries, mosses and ferns - little glimpses of colour and shape and texture - especially gave me joy, like finding little treasures where you never expected to. There were rock formations that I would’ve liked to photography for keepsafe, if I had a camera.

Then we drove a little further to investigate another trail, the Track and Tower Trail, the longest trail according to the brochures, at 11km. Someone very kindly left a walking stick at the entrance, and I gladly made use of it.

Day 4 of my cleanse/diet. I consider myself doing well. Also realized today that these 4 days of eating only 2 small healthy meals a day aside from the mastercleanse drink, has brought a real appreciation of the food I eat, because it is greatly reduced in quantity and variety, the perceived quality of it seems to increase conversely, and I look forward to my meals almost gleefully, yet with a calm and even joy. I know I can get through painlessly by taking sips of my drink, and there isn’t the usual agitation about falling off the wagon.


Friday, August 6, 2010


We played tourist and went to the visitors’ centre first thing today. Michael bought 10 of the trail brochures, mostly because he liked the black & white line drawings done for each of the covers, by an artist named Coneybear. He also got me a pretty flowered t-shirt as a souvenir from Algonquin. Then we hit the Art Centre & Gallery which was closed when we went by yesterday. The little pond outside was its own little ecosystem, complete with frogs which I thought were fake at first. The arts & crafts studio/workshop was brand-new this year apparently, complete with a beautiful hanging of a tangle of tree roots from the ceiling, and the young man I assumed was the art instructor. The gallery was not large but tastefully sparse, with a new but friendly vibe. Some of the artwork were surprising and delightful, though nothing that said ‘masterpiece!’

We decided to take it easy on aging ourselves and chose a short trail called Two Rivers Trail, about 2km long. All I can say is, my thanks again to whoever left the walking stick yesterday, because the terrain turned out to be full of rocks and exposed roots. I had hoped to stroll along with comfort and check out the around and above, but after about 100 yards into the trail had to keep my eyes on the ground and my feet around big and small bumps all the way. At one point I thought this trail should have been named Dead Wood Trail, because it was so full of dead trees that according to the brochure had suffered the blight of budworms then a big forest fire in the 70s. By the looks of it, most of the birches did not survive. There was even a dead tree blocking the trail in one place, along with several that it took down when it fell. But the lookouts were beautiful and numerous, usually large rocky outcroppings overlooking bottomless trees from one end of our field of vision to the other. The best part I thought, was the smell of the evergreens everywhere, particularly strong when I lifted my head and inhaaaaaaled. I’ve come to really love the smell of all evergreens lately. Still, I was relieved when the trail came to an end. Guess I’m not completely naturized yet.

In the afternoon we drove the 20 minutes into Huntsville to check out the Farmer’s Daughter Market, which has ‘higher end product’ according to the guide at the visitors’ centre. Fortunately for my diet, all the gluten-free baked goods were sold out. Nice introduction of a healthier food market to the neighbourhood, but nothing to write home about.


Saturady, August 7, 2010

Our last morning in Algonquin, Michael went for a dip in the lake (Oxtongue Lake) just down the road. He is sad to be leaving, after a very healing 2 days in resonance with Nature. I told him I thought it was because he is a Carsinosin constitution that being literally embraced by the Nature in all of its majestic beauty and pristineness has penetrated so profoundly and brought much solace. Whether I am right or off about that, he is gentler in judgment, more open to the enjoyment of being in the moment, even if the moment is not always be joyful, and generally lighter, so much so that his knee hasn’t hurt even after 2 hikes, the last one some fairly bumpy terrain.