Tag: healing

Recovery

January 28th, 2019

Flu. I feel so vulnerable during and just after illness, as though my will has failed in a small way, just to show me nothing is in my control. Catastrophic thinking? Maybe. Nonetheless I’ll take care of myself today, and tomorrow again pick up with resolutions and determinations.

For today it is enough to write this note, even if a few days late, keeping with “posting once a week.” A small gesture.

Although it took pausing a few times, George the dachshund and I did get to watch the “Kalachakra, L’éveil” film available through Amazon Prime. It didn’t go quite as deeply into teachings as I’d hoped for, yet I learned so much and felt the embers of devotion stirring.

George loved the chanting during the film, perking his head up to look at the television each time it would begin.

Kalachakra Mandala
(image from traditionalartofnepal.com)

It felt good to let my senses be flooded with auspicious symbols and reminders of the timelessness all time is embedded in, especially when feeling so discouraged and weary. One’s body feels like a thin place itself in such moments, like the mandala above can be a thin place. In the film they showed that to learn to read this mandala, the beginning order is from outside in, at the gates beginning with body, then speech, then mind (very center). Within mind, there is then the pavilion of wisdom, and the pinnacle of bliss. Of course, the longer you linger, the image seems to lose the sense of outside and inside entirely.

Gorgeous how much can be imparted in one image! I remember that when I first began studying Buddhism, Tibetan imagery felt like overkill to me, just ‘too much’, but that feeling subsided once I began to understand what the symbols were meant to point to and the relationships between them.

Memory seems to keep these maps very well.

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healing crisis, part 2

December 27th, 2018

I cried a lot again today, after a few days of laughter and celebratory hoopla. Mostly: baking. It was, it is, a wonderful holiday. Although still in healing crisis, it was the healthiest I’ve felt for Christmas in over 5 years, and we planned very well for once, events scattered with days in between, starting with getting to see HAMILTON, which was made possible out of nowhere, like a dream. Then an elaborate-for-us dinner with/for my Grandfather, which he appreciated, and so many unexpected visitors!

The physical therapist wasn’t surprised at all to find me emotionally drained, but she seemed a little startled not to be able to touch me almost anywhere without a lot of sensitivity. She was very gentle and kept my exercise to simple stretching and pilates. I keep repeating to myself, “Trust the process.” How can I not? I feel that being able to so far pull off everything I’d set out to this season, is a direct result. Yet the second I got in the car afterward, so much emotion!

It was as though I felt overwhelmed by having so much attention focused on me, and being listened to so genuinely. I sort of reflexively deflect questions and expect ‘the other’ to be half-listening, which creates habitual tension at a deeper layer than my mind feels ready to go to. Which reminds me of the A Course in Miracles line,

“When you think you’ve surrendered, surrender more.”

When I’d finally cried myself out, a little jewel of an insight was left. It wasn’t made of words, but rather just lingered like a soft peaceful cloud in the air.

Raising the vibration isn’t about making yourself happy. It isn’t about anything, really, but whatever comes up genuinely in any given moment, and not holding on to that. Again, back to relaxing, releasing resistance, which all sounds so dull until it is just the right thing.
healing crisis

December 13th, 2018

I’m waiting in the office, warming up, stretching. She enters with a smile, asking:

“So how are we doing?”

I’d determined not to make a big deal of it but immediately hear myself pour forth, listing all the weird aches and pains and oddities since the last visit, the more-than-usual erratic sleep patterns, and my confusion over what is coming from where. I think that she will go lightly on me, hearing all of that, but she barely blinks. “You’re in healing crisis.” And sets about something near to the usual process, with a little more inquiry while doing so.

“Healing crisis?” I ask (that doesn’t sound good).

Yet it is.

A healing crisis is a worsening of symptoms that occurs when a new treatment, in this case physical therapy, is having deep effects – when it actually begins reaching the causes of the symptoms and wreaking a fair bit of havoc. In my case, the havoc has been mostly physical, since the emotional release has been nothing but positive and helpful, but it is comforting to read that both kinds of strangeness are included under the umbrella.

However she adjusted her approach, or whether I shifted into the next phase by natural course, I’m not sure, but after that session I felt a heck of a lot better.

And far more trusting.

So when today a new wave of effects showed up, I felt more relaxed about it, and also noticed very closely whether I had followed the guidance she had given me, to avoid fatty and sugary foods, to go easy on myself, to drink twice as much water. I hadn’t. I’d gone back to my not great general habits pretty much right away.

Otherwise I would probably not be awake to write this post!
Looking Back (2017)

December 5th, 2017

First, credit due. At the end of 2016, there were just a few things I was totally sure about. I’d finished reading The Universe Has Your Back and had moved into A Course in Miracles. I’d begun to feel a release from integration work, and to be more forward looking, open to making new connections, forming new patterns. It was as though a large book I’d been reading had naturally finished, and many of the characters seemed just about ready to go their own way. In fact, many did!

One pressing discouragement had been quite small bucket list items that year after year, remained on the list. These were things like Indian cooking classes, checking out the Unity Church, organizing a dream practice workshop, and getting organized about writing every day. And in 2017, I did follow through on these, as well as related things that seemed to ride the tide. The Universe met me in kind; intuitive guidance returned.

I renewed meditation practice, and let myself off the hook for not living up to the image of the disciplined yogi in my mind who sits for 2 hours a day and is consistent like clockwork. Instead, in large part thanks to not seeking this kind of support in the same places I had been, I allowed myself what before I’d seen as crutches: using Insight Timer app, and checking in with a small group of friends via SMS to share favorite guided meditations. To be clear, the yogi in my mind would never use guided meditations, but I’ve come to love having choices between light music or weather conditions, silence, or someone holding my hand and walking me through.

There were a few hard challenges, and a few areas where I went against my introverted grain, to do what felt right to me. In one case, the risk to my pride was significant, but I followed through. In others, the ice breaking was awkward, but that awkwardness didn’t feel as much like death. In that category, I have one more phone call to make before the year is out.

I was supportive with friends and family that leaned on me, and received help when it was my turn, having to drop some grudges along the way. I became more politically outspoken, while working to find places of compassion for those I disagree with. I strove to be honest with myself and others, and not to lose sight of impermanence… that although these feel like dark times, in which ‘sides’ are becoming more and more prominent and entrenched, time, by nature, arises and passes away. Being shape shifts.

The books I read in 2017 were along a wider range than the year previous, from a charming little book about a master gardener’s apprenticeship in the temple gardens of Japan called Cutting Back, and a somewhat odd book recommended by Susannah Clarke, Thursbitch, to the Upanishads, Twin Peaks related books, Lincoln in the Bardo and The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve (plus many others in between and on the fringes). And all the articles, goodness! I kept pretty well to my determinations not to read much click-bait but rather dive deeper. Oh! I read Pullman’s Book of Dust as well, without letting my fangirlish admiration get in the way of admitting that it was great for anyone else, but just okay for Pullman.

A year ago, I was also having a lot of anxiety. During the day I would go about my usual business, enjoying my projects and communities, but in the middle of the night, and if not then first thing in the morning, I would often wake in panic and dread. Instead of rising with appreciation for the new day and my one precious life, I would quickly find myself in a position of judgement and problem solving. Rather than rising to meet those challenges, I would often just try to get through the day without making trouble for anyone else. I leaned on “this too shall pass”, and little by little, dug my way into more openness.

A great resource in that regard, has been the Facebook Live teachings and ‘cyber sangha’ of Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche. I’ve been fond of him since the day ten years ago that I found his book The Yogas of Dream and Sleep in a Barnes and Noble bookstore. Dream practice had come up quite naturally for me, and I was gesturing back to the void, trying to learn as much as possible. Although I did try the methods he introduced in that book, they were a bit too technical at my level of study. His clear writing voice and gentle guidance however, made him someone I have continued to seek out. Yet it wasn’t until he began Facebook Live pop-up teachings, that I felt him to be a constant teacher. His last few talks, on Mirror-like Awareness, have lodged deeply in my being. The gist? Be the mirror rather than the reflection. And actually, that is the way I would describe my seat, my stance, leading into 2018.
Caught Unawares

October 13th, 2017

I once found myself in a paradise, basking in nature with several nourishing friends. Our main goals were to relax, as much as possible, and to appreciate absolutely everything. After a day or so, all occurring – from food and conversation to the flowers and giant stars – felt to glow, to exude a feeling of magic.

Most vacations have a little of this effect; one begins to believe that if they could just stay in that spot, all of life would be ideal. Separated from daily cares and worries, lingering out of context, humans begin to come alive again.

When we relax and open, the rest of phenomena does too.

Nova Scotia

During the trip, we were led on a pitch-black night hike through ancient forest, given time to deeply listen at a stream, learned facets of “forest practice” such as aimless wandering and laying down like a rotting log, and simply basked in one anothers’ easy company.

But, a moment I hardly noticed at the time has continually come to mind since then, a short introduction.

Although they would be mostly otherwise engaged during our stay, one of the caretakers sat down and met my eyes directly, simply saying that it was a pleasure to meet. Weeks later however, while describing the retreat to a friend, I found myself remarking on how strikingly beautiful this woman was… how she seemed to sparkle.

So much had happened there, but her presence was at the forefront somehow.

I dreamed I’d gotten lost and had come upon a large house where, just as I reached to knock on a door, this woman appeared. She was in scuba gear, smiling, having returned from deep water treasure diving.

A few years later I had the chance to return, and to see more of her whole life–cultivating flowers, vegetables, people–basically full time appreciative being. Strangely, she was ordinary. She was still beautiful and spiritually vivid, alert, but also quite human.

It was like I’d before encountered an alive new reality in the middle of a usual daydream; my understanding had been turned inside out like a pocket, revealing subtle dimensions.

When people say that life can change in an instant, they are usually talking about sudden dramatic events we couldn’t have foreseen… tragedies or strokes of luck that can change one’s lot in life. But there are transformative, ‘holy instants’ happening all the time.

Memory doesn’t always hold them.
Miracles as Expressions of Timelessness

January 1st, 2017
“There is no order of difficulty in miracles.
One is not “harder” or “bigger” than another. They are all the same.
All expressions of love are maximal.”

I won’t share from A Course in Miracles every day, but although I find many lines and exercises in The Course strange, others resonate immediately, like the quote above. Also:
- Miracles as such do not matter. The only thing that matters is their Source, Which is far beyond evaluation
- Miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. The real miracle is the love that inspires them. In this sense everything that comes from love is a miracle. (snip)
- Miracles are a kind of exchange. Like all expressions of love, which are always miraculous in the true sense, the exchange reverses the physical laws. They bring more love both to the giver and the receiver.
  [Full list is on Wikipedia]
- The miracle is a learning device that lessens the need for time. It establishes an out-of-pattern time interval not under the usual laws of time. In this sense it is timeless.
High Point, North Carolina

To this list I will add from my own experience:
- Miracles are like dreams. They have no origin as such. They unpack forward and backward, open on all sides. This is why The Course describes them as expressions of timelessness.
Related material added 3.20.2018:

Sagacity + Love = Serendipity?

Serious Serendipity
playing “The Course”

December 18th, 2016

“Take the work seriously, and your self not seriously at all.“

– Judy Dench as quoted by Alan Rickman

I have decided to study The Course in Miracles in 2017. Actually, I’ve been studying it for a few months already.

To be honest, the all-positive, Law of Attraction ‘motivational coach voice’ of some materials has been a stumbling block for me, as well as ACIM’s overtly solely Christian metaphors. But, it can also be helpful at the right time, perhaps like the one I’m in… when pulled to be more outward and receptive.

The best of The Course reminds me of Abhidharma, which is a Buddhist mind training system for learning to see through the solidity of appearances by way of less personal attachment. ACIM’s exercises are unusual and koan-like, but more bothersome; the 16 ACIM exercises I’ve tried so far, have been uncomfortable in a different way.

Actually, let’s face it. I’m seriously resistant to them, but also fascinated by the avenues the exploration is opening, rituals that feel comforting and playful. I remember being terrified to even look at the materials when I was young, since you could only find them in occult shops I was taught that I shouldn’t have even walked into. 🙂

My favorite line of Gabby Bernstein’s The Universe Has Your Back, came from A Course in Miracles): “When you think you’ve surrendered, surrender more.”

Which comes down to a kind of heart longing of, “Not my way but Thine”, with that ‘Thine’ in the language of ACIM being God, or in Gabby’s book Universe (or God interchangeably). For another it might be Inner Self, or Flying Spaghetti Monster. I like simply, Life, but Holy Spirit is also nice, folding back in the innocent faith of my youth.

All I’ve studied over the course of the last few decades leads me feel that a huge number of us have been moving toward non-dualistic ways of thinking for quite some time, away from stark good vs. evil contrasts, leaving a third way open. Spirituality seems to me, a natural part of evolution.

The phrase middle way is sometimes taken to mean a compromise, which I think is farther away from the mark than the transcendent notion of a play dynamic – heaven and earth together.
Peaceful Revolution

December 6th, 2016

Finished a book today, titled Peaceful Revolution.

This is a book I’ve had on my Kindle for well over a year, purchased in a thrill of finding Paul K. Chappell on social media after years of lightly asking around, something like, “Well, he’s a soldier with an interesting multiracial background, had a talk on Book TV after the Iraq War, focusing on peace, but not in a hippy dippy way?” I’d done a few searches and couldn’t remember his full name, instead coming up with someone else. So I’d, once in a while, remember to send out a searchlight again.

I’ve been surprised that more in my circle aren’t familiar with him, when his voice on matters of peace, in the world and in ourselves, seems so unique and needed. It was a YouTube shared on Facebook, from a friend from Hungary, living in South Africa, who I met in a virtual world, that finally gave me the missing piece. All I’d needed was the K!

(more…)
Is this even true anymore?

December 3rd, 2016

Our minds are complex and amazing; a million times in a row, relinquishing anxieties to trust for a clearer way to emerge, works just fine. But there are matters one whittles away at for such long periods of time that the process moves into the background, becoming automatic, less unexamined. Then, like a withdrawal from the bank for a gym one doesn’t go to, it can be easy miss a crucial next step and get trapped on the surface level, failing to reexamine, to ask, “Is this (situation, memory, value, desire) even true anymore?” Energies have been eeking out for along time, to ‘somewhere’.

It is important to tell our stories, and to receive deep validation for doing the best we could at the time. There are few sentences more healing than, “It’s not your fault” or, “That must have been so hard for you all that time, to ___ .” Even one person witnessing personal, often secret, struggles, can give disproportionately magical permission for them to heal, which is part of what humans are to one another.

And I understand this because of what it was like to separate from a partner of many years… reliving the whys and wherefores, answering to crowds of imaginary people in my mind. I found it hard to give the two of us as characters much tenderness, categorizing our mistakes as short-sighted and preventable, with an underlying subtext of blame that leaned slightly more his way than mine. I would stop the looping by sheer will until, going along one day I would realize, “When did THAT come back?”

We all want to do better going forward, and to find value in situations we’ve come to know well at such high costs; it is irresistible to come up with a script about it all, and to work that script until shines light on all our best angles. So the first step is self-compassion.

Then what to answer others, for instance my son, when he asked to know more. One hesitates to teach what they are still going through. I began to just describe our way of thinking at the beginning, the plans and visions behind our decisions, the intricate calculations. But also, the values at the core of what we know in retrospect was our expanding too fast. With distance I could see how thoughtful and careful we actually tried to be, banking on the energy of our mutual desires and visions.

I felt… impressed with us, even as I listened to myself describe where we went wrong. And I felt impressed to admit to all those areas. A joyful feeling bubbled up as I described things such as the condition of our house when we bought it – how we put every cent and second in, learning by doing, installing the often complimented kitchen for almost nothing, taking down the horrendous mirrored wall and murals from the 80’s Miami Vice aesthetic. I began to smile a lot.

Eventually, I found myself speaking of us with great affection and compassion, laughing a little. It had been so long since I’d been able to do that. Then I realized: I had forgiven us, without knowing that to be the case. Somewhere along the way there had come softening.

The truth was, is, that I love those two people with their ambitious and energetic dreams. I love their ideals, their well-intended hearts, so deeply. What filled my being was a sense of expansion and, just “Thank You.” “Thank You, Thank You… Thank You, Thank You, Thank You”.
Teacher vs. Coach (Permission)

November 28th, 2016

On the way to school, bored by the current list of podcasts on my i-Pad, my son opened Kindle to read aloud from whatever happened to appear. In this case, it was Gabrielle Bernstein’s book The Universe Has Your Back. Gabrielle is pretty new to me and at first struck me as overly perky — as though she was me 15 or so years ago, before big challenges to manifestation and faith teachings.

This initial impression reflected underlying cynicism way more my issue than hers. Gabby is indeed energetic and fast-talking in a way that I am when off-kilter, which does not mean she is off-kilter too. 🙂

My son began to read a portion of the book that describes Gabby’s friend Lance’s story of coming to terms with feelings of (in his case intellectual) inadequacy, but it was hard for him to take seriously. The chapter is written in an “On my summer vacation we went to the beach…” style that frustrated him during school years in which he wanted to be more daring but was corrected for things like decorating his titles or going on tangents.

Although his take was funny, I heard myself make an important distinction.

There are differences between teachers and coaches, which doesn’t mean no overlap. The relationship with a teacher is an intimate one. The idea is to be taught something you don’t know, to be shown something you haven’t seen, to take on a new way of seeing, imbibe a new way of being.

With a coach, you may already know what they are telling you, but they stir and push you to bring what is known and needed to the forefront, so that you can enact. They help midwife what is ready to be born. This too can be a very powerful role, but it is far more straight forward, outward, obvious.

“Lance” seems generic and vague because he is meant to be. He is a template, not supposed to take you out of or away from yourself the way that say, a work of ‘literature’ does. In another chapter, Gabby describes a copy-editor that continually neglected to send in an invoice, and I laughed with relief because her copy-editor was figuratively, me. Too many specifics about this woman and I may not have been able to project myself into her story and actually take the bolder initiative I eventually did.

I’m someone reading a few books at a time, almost always a spiritual motivational book, which might sit right next to a historical biography, next to some obscure Buddhist text or book of poetry. Each has its place and benefit.