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I remember being afraid of bees when I was a kid. I know for a fact that one bumble bee got a great laugh as it chased me down the street. It knew what it was doing, knew I was scared out of my mind, and I'm certain it went back to the other bees with a story about a little pigtailed kid who thought it could sting her.
Thirty-something years later, me and the whole bee community are on better terms. In fact, now that I'm clearer on how important they are to our entire food chain, I love them. With all the talk of the disappearing honey bees, whenever I see one, I get excited.
This morning I was on a conference call while I walked my dog. For some reason doing two things at once made me more attentive than usual to little details I normally overlook when I walk Chocolate. At one point, I observed a dead spider on the ground and actually bent a little closer to check out what kind it was. Not that I know anything about the various types of spiders beyond their look, but intuitively I get some sense of them.
Later I happened to glance down and saw a bee. It was wiggling its little body and seemed to be doing a bit poorly. Just following my gut, I leaned down and extended a finger to its bottom half and sent it a little Reiki. It wriggled a little more. I got up and walked away.
A few seconds later, about twenty feet from where I'd barely touched it, the most beautiful thing happpened. He buzzed me. The bee came close enough to buzz right inside my ear and then flew off at a right angle. Maybe I too recently saw the Bee movie, but in that instant I intuitively understood it came close to say thanks. Before I processed it consciously, I sent off a telepathic "no problem" in reply. My heart was full.
Real or imagined, I love feeling and believing that the smallest gestures are grand in impact.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
A Brand New Sei...Sei He Ki
When I began my Reiki experiences two years ago, I did as I was told. I did my daily self-treatments every day for the first twenty-one days. Then, not so much. Then again before and after Reiki II and so on. Back in April I was reading Abundance through Reiki and again got in the habit of daily self-treatments. Why do we stop? I guess that's like asking why we aren't "perfect" in the conventionally rigid sense of the word.
(For those readers who haven't read my Reiki stuff, see the favorites and click on the That Cat stories and others in that time period. In short, Reiki is a healing energy most commonly associated with its use in hospitals and spas as an alternative healing therapy. My blog is for a bunch of different audiences, so if you're not into all that alternative stuff, click around to find my usual rants about writing.)
It's kinda like being in the habit of drinking water daily and eating your vegetables and you feel great. But then, there's sweets, fried foods, overeating, a little less water. And after a while, we ask "Why aren't I feeling as optimal as before?"
Well, for me there was another factor, as well. After a bout with some negative energy months back, I saw my own energy healer and she reminded me the importance of cleaning, clearing and sealing after each Reiki session. I get sloppy. I do Reiki here and there on this person and that or for places and situations. It's a very informal practice and so I slack off on the formalaties--like cleaning, clearing and sealing when I'm done.
Basically, my healer suggested I'd left the door open. Evidently, negative energy doesn't wait for an invitation. I wasn't sticking to the routine and it was costing me. Being a wannabe perfectionist, I can easily get the attitude that, "Well, if I'm gonna do it not-so-well, better I don't do it at all." If I was allowing the negative energy I was supposedly clearing to latch on and hang around, then better I just leave it sit around like stale air. Leave it and just move along out of its reach. A bit inconsistent with whole notion of using our healing techniques to be a blessing to ourselves and others.
Sure enough, after a while, I missed that healthy feeling. I've already explored Pranic Healing and TeraMai Seichem Reiki. They have their pluses, that's for sure. But I like the simplicity and effectiveness of basic Reiki. There are at least another 100 flavors of Reiki that purport to increase one's healing powers. Yet, every fiber in my being said that I already had everything I needed with the basic Reiki and their four symbols.
I successfully fought off the urge to dump hundreds or thousands of dollars for a new flavor, when all I really wanted was plain old feels-good, tastes-good and does a perfect job vanilla ice cream.
I returned to doing the self-treatments at night. But then I'd get nice and sleepy and well, back to where we started, I wouldn't particularly feel like doing the elaborate rituals for cleaning-clearing and sealing.
All that to say, I was praying for a simpler way.
Last week I took a moment to relax after walking my dog at one of the huge regional parks. It was a beautiful, clear day, about 80 degrees. It felt like being on a hike in the woods, except for the houses across the street. It was the perfect scene for a little Reiki.
And that's when the symbol, shown above and below, popped into my consciousness. There were some old ideas hanging around in my aura. Just bad habits of thought and expectation. Several small versions of that symbol went to the places in my aura where old energy was caked and lodged. The zig-zag part zapped it out of place and the two semi circles lifted it out, up and into the light.
When I inquired intuitively, I understood the sybmol to be my answer to a quick easy cleanse and clear after doing Reiki. Just use a larger version of same about my entire aura and voila, negative debris taken to the light for transformation. Like the twice sliding hand slap that says "well that's that and it's done".
Being a Leo with a healthy ego, I immediately imagined that I'd received some new symbol from the ethers. Yes, I even contemplated whether I should get a trademark like all the other "inventors" of healing symbols do. Then I decided to actually draw it out, not just see it in my mind. Turned out it was awfully similar to writing Sei He Ki.
Diane Stein's Essential Reiki gives the usual explanation of the uses of Sei He Ki. Additionally, "It can be used for protection and purification, to clear negative energy, to release spirit attachments... I was not taught these uses, and believe they are no longer generally known."
That helped explain it for me.
I'd be curious to know what anyone who uses the Reiki symbols thinks. Have you seen this version anywhere? I'm sure I'm not the first person to become privy to it.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Speaking of Dreams
I've noted once or twice that I want to move to a Caribbean island, yes? I've also lamented my desire for security and my being very keen on continuing to contribute to my current pension system.
And for my birthday...last week a friend of mine shared her intention to go teach in Europe over the next few years. In fact, she'd shared this with me and another teacher over lunch a few months ago. After moving just two years ago to a teaching gig with great pay, circumstances have her back in the job market again. This time, she's considering all her options. Instead of chasing the money, she's going after her truest desires. So, she's applying for gigs overseas.
I remarked that it sounded fantastic and that I marveled at her ability to give up adding more years into the teacher pension system. We're decades in to one of the few pensions with a half-decent chance of surviving the economic upheaval.
She went on to say that she wasn't giving up a thing. The international school program she'll go through let's her keep adding up the years of credit to our same system.
Tears came to my eyes. I sat down my rootbeer to compose myself. You'd think I'd been told I was the winner of one billion dollars. No, not a million, not a hundred million. I was beyond choked up.
The single biggest obstacle to an immediate relocation to the islands was washed aside in one sentence. That was the day after I signed up for the Landmark Forum. That was the day after hearing that life has a funny way of responding to our commitment to our future, that for a lot of people, the moment they commit to the workshop, new possibilities start appearing before they even sit down for the first session. In the prior blog, I mention being spontaneous. I signed up for the workshop on a Wednesday evening. I had lunch with this friend on Thursday. I attended the three-day workshop that Friday. Today is a week later.
I just went to the international school site to see where they have sites--US Virgin Islands, Cuba, Cayman Islands, St. Kitts to name the ones I saw first.
When people have asked which island do you want to move to, I never know. I can tell you which I've been to that I liked, and which I didn't like so much. Loved Providenciales, Turks and Caicos, loved Grenada. Didn't like St. Thomas--too American, too tourist-driven.
Within the last week, as I've mentioned this new possibility for making my dreams come true sooner than later to anyone who'll listen, I've heard time and again that many people who get into this only stay at a given location for a couple years and then move someplace new. Imagine: I start in the Caymans, I do a stint on St. Kitts. Five or ten years later, I'm completely clear on which location feels most like home. Or maybe I come right back to my home here in Southern California feeling complete, feeling like I've had the experiences I needed.
The best part about it all. Unlike years past, when I might have jumped right in, I'm willing to give it due consideration. Actually, I think the truth is that I don't want to move in Fall 2009. The earliest I'd want to relocate is Fall 2010. Options, options.
And one more note on the way things have shifted for me. On the last night of the seminar, a guy sitting in front of me turns around and says, "I can see your passion for the book you're writing. I used to work in the industry. I don't do that kind of PR work anymore, but I'd love to sit down with you for a cup of coffee and help you plan it out, create a proposal, create what will appeal to publishers and can sell rather than you writing it first and then trying to figure out how to market it." His girlfriend was right there. He's really talking about my book.
I couldn't believe it. In a space of just four days, new routes to dreams coming true are walking into my life. Pretty soon I hope to experience Life banging at my door begging me to just say yes to my wildest dreams coming true. I can see it.
There was a spider plant at my front door that was in need of attention. It was sun-scorched and in need of being transplanted and tended. Well, I cleaned up half the plants at my doorstep. I'll take the soil out of the car and tend to the rest of the plants at the door and on my desks by weekend's end.
What accounts for all the change, and the new openings? Is it Feng Shui? Three weeks ago, I bought a new bed. My old one was bad Feng Shu--metal, bars, obtrusive. Not conducive to the flow of chi. My bedroom is in the wealth corner of my home for those of you into that stuff. I also bought some bamboo plants. I used to have them all over my place. I had them around when I wrote and finished Thirteen. Not that I want to be superstitious about it all. Maybe my chi is flowing smoother.
Reiki? I recently started practicing the self-treatments again. I'd stopped. If it doesn't explain the outer changes, perhaps it at least contributes to the energy and mental clarity for blogging again.
Crystals? I've moved these around too. After the new nightstands, I ended up moving them all around throughout my home in new combinations and a few to different rooms. A couple nights ago, I switched around what's in my pillow--no more peridot and charoite, now moldavite and rainbow obsidian.
If you can't buy the feng shui, reiki or crystals, how about my participation in the Landmark Forum? Or maybe it's just the momentum of a new birthday? Could even be just the rhythm of my life. How about ascribing credit to the Gratitude Journal I bought the Monday before the Wednesday before the Friday before my birthday?
Seeing it all here in front of me...I guess it's just who I am, what I do: Always looking for ways to experience more, better and share that possibility with anyone who'll listen.
I blog about it, brag about it, because I believe it is possible for everyone on the planet to be happier, more fulfilled. I share what I do and what seems to work in the hope that friends, family, loved one's or strangers might be inspired. Not necessarily to try what I've tried, just to keep trying.
Besides, someone shared Feng Shui, Reiki, Crystals, Landmark, gratitude journals and on and on with me. (Thanks Angie)
And for my birthday...last week a friend of mine shared her intention to go teach in Europe over the next few years. In fact, she'd shared this with me and another teacher over lunch a few months ago. After moving just two years ago to a teaching gig with great pay, circumstances have her back in the job market again. This time, she's considering all her options. Instead of chasing the money, she's going after her truest desires. So, she's applying for gigs overseas.
I remarked that it sounded fantastic and that I marveled at her ability to give up adding more years into the teacher pension system. We're decades in to one of the few pensions with a half-decent chance of surviving the economic upheaval.
She went on to say that she wasn't giving up a thing. The international school program she'll go through let's her keep adding up the years of credit to our same system.
Tears came to my eyes. I sat down my rootbeer to compose myself. You'd think I'd been told I was the winner of one billion dollars. No, not a million, not a hundred million. I was beyond choked up.
The single biggest obstacle to an immediate relocation to the islands was washed aside in one sentence. That was the day after I signed up for the Landmark Forum. That was the day after hearing that life has a funny way of responding to our commitment to our future, that for a lot of people, the moment they commit to the workshop, new possibilities start appearing before they even sit down for the first session. In the prior blog, I mention being spontaneous. I signed up for the workshop on a Wednesday evening. I had lunch with this friend on Thursday. I attended the three-day workshop that Friday. Today is a week later.
I just went to the international school site to see where they have sites--US Virgin Islands, Cuba, Cayman Islands, St. Kitts to name the ones I saw first.
When people have asked which island do you want to move to, I never know. I can tell you which I've been to that I liked, and which I didn't like so much. Loved Providenciales, Turks and Caicos, loved Grenada. Didn't like St. Thomas--too American, too tourist-driven.
Within the last week, as I've mentioned this new possibility for making my dreams come true sooner than later to anyone who'll listen, I've heard time and again that many people who get into this only stay at a given location for a couple years and then move someplace new. Imagine: I start in the Caymans, I do a stint on St. Kitts. Five or ten years later, I'm completely clear on which location feels most like home. Or maybe I come right back to my home here in Southern California feeling complete, feeling like I've had the experiences I needed.
The best part about it all. Unlike years past, when I might have jumped right in, I'm willing to give it due consideration. Actually, I think the truth is that I don't want to move in Fall 2009. The earliest I'd want to relocate is Fall 2010. Options, options.
And one more note on the way things have shifted for me. On the last night of the seminar, a guy sitting in front of me turns around and says, "I can see your passion for the book you're writing. I used to work in the industry. I don't do that kind of PR work anymore, but I'd love to sit down with you for a cup of coffee and help you plan it out, create a proposal, create what will appeal to publishers and can sell rather than you writing it first and then trying to figure out how to market it." His girlfriend was right there. He's really talking about my book.
I couldn't believe it. In a space of just four days, new routes to dreams coming true are walking into my life. Pretty soon I hope to experience Life banging at my door begging me to just say yes to my wildest dreams coming true. I can see it.
There was a spider plant at my front door that was in need of attention. It was sun-scorched and in need of being transplanted and tended. Well, I cleaned up half the plants at my doorstep. I'll take the soil out of the car and tend to the rest of the plants at the door and on my desks by weekend's end.
What accounts for all the change, and the new openings? Is it Feng Shui? Three weeks ago, I bought a new bed. My old one was bad Feng Shu--metal, bars, obtrusive. Not conducive to the flow of chi. My bedroom is in the wealth corner of my home for those of you into that stuff. I also bought some bamboo plants. I used to have them all over my place. I had them around when I wrote and finished Thirteen. Not that I want to be superstitious about it all. Maybe my chi is flowing smoother.
Reiki? I recently started practicing the self-treatments again. I'd stopped. If it doesn't explain the outer changes, perhaps it at least contributes to the energy and mental clarity for blogging again.
Crystals? I've moved these around too. After the new nightstands, I ended up moving them all around throughout my home in new combinations and a few to different rooms. A couple nights ago, I switched around what's in my pillow--no more peridot and charoite, now moldavite and rainbow obsidian.
If you can't buy the feng shui, reiki or crystals, how about my participation in the Landmark Forum? Or maybe it's just the momentum of a new birthday? Could even be just the rhythm of my life. How about ascribing credit to the Gratitude Journal I bought the Monday before the Wednesday before the Friday before my birthday?
Seeing it all here in front of me...I guess it's just who I am, what I do: Always looking for ways to experience more, better and share that possibility with anyone who'll listen.
I blog about it, brag about it, because I believe it is possible for everyone on the planet to be happier, more fulfilled. I share what I do and what seems to work in the hope that friends, family, loved one's or strangers might be inspired. Not necessarily to try what I've tried, just to keep trying.
Besides, someone shared Feng Shui, Reiki, Crystals, Landmark, gratitude journals and on and on with me. (Thanks Angie)
Loving 42
Yesterday a friend asked how I was feeling about my birthday. She remembers the drama when I turned 35. I was no longer able to mark the "24-35" category. I was now obliged to check "35-44" and for some reason that more than anything meant middle age. Hot flashes followed within a few years, so I'd say the mid-life crisis complete with birthday sobbing on my 35th birthday was not entirely premature. Turning 40 was no big deal. Neither was this 42nd birthday. If history is any indication, I'd better plan something spectacular for 45 when I jump to the "45 to 54" category.
My response to my friend yesterday was that I feel like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old. I feel like I've been spending the last few years getting ready to graduate. And I am in the confident, expectant place where the future holds open all possibilities. There's anxiety too. Well, not so much anxiety as a sense of being clueless about what lies ahead. Sure, I've got dreams and goals and watered down versions of "plans", but I'm really very close to the same place I was in the summer of 1983, the summer before my senior year of high school.
I knew I was going to college. A given. But where??? Probably UCLA. I was absolutely certain I would continue my love of math and science and become some kind of engineer. That was the thing in 1980's. If you were African-American and loved math and science, the engineering programs courted you.
In the end spontaneous decision-making sealed my fate. A friend of my mom's who heard I'd gotten in to Stanford insisted I had to go there. It would be stupid not to go there, he implied, forget UC Berkeley. Not a fan of being called stupid...When I got to Stanford and struggled in calculus, I was so delighted over my first and easiest college "A" that I switched my major to sociology so I could get more of that good feeling and less of the one that made me feel like a loser. In retrospect, I just didn't know much about discipline, sacrifice or nitty-gritty knuckle-down studying.
Impromptu. Spontaneous. I've so often made life-changing decisions based on a whim, a feeling. It hasn't been "wrong" and my life hasn't been terrible. I'm planning to experiment with choosing instead of just deciding. Not UCLA or Stanford, not what I expected to do versus what someone else says is better. This time I'm going into "senior year" with a real sense of Self. I've got an interest in choosing what I want from the field of all possibilities.
I took the Landmark Forum last weekend. It changed my entire perspective on life, on my life. That's a second entry coming soon. I'll be taking the next course in their series in November and will be attending a weekly seminar over the next few months as well. The seminar is on commitment. I can't wait to apply it to my Luzca book, to relationships...a wide open second act.
A huge thanks to all the wonderful well-wishing I received. Blessings!
My response to my friend yesterday was that I feel like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old. I feel like I've been spending the last few years getting ready to graduate. And I am in the confident, expectant place where the future holds open all possibilities. There's anxiety too. Well, not so much anxiety as a sense of being clueless about what lies ahead. Sure, I've got dreams and goals and watered down versions of "plans", but I'm really very close to the same place I was in the summer of 1983, the summer before my senior year of high school.
I knew I was going to college. A given. But where??? Probably UCLA. I was absolutely certain I would continue my love of math and science and become some kind of engineer. That was the thing in 1980's. If you were African-American and loved math and science, the engineering programs courted you.
In the end spontaneous decision-making sealed my fate. A friend of my mom's who heard I'd gotten in to Stanford insisted I had to go there. It would be stupid not to go there, he implied, forget UC Berkeley. Not a fan of being called stupid...When I got to Stanford and struggled in calculus, I was so delighted over my first and easiest college "A" that I switched my major to sociology so I could get more of that good feeling and less of the one that made me feel like a loser. In retrospect, I just didn't know much about discipline, sacrifice or nitty-gritty knuckle-down studying.
Impromptu. Spontaneous. I've so often made life-changing decisions based on a whim, a feeling. It hasn't been "wrong" and my life hasn't been terrible. I'm planning to experiment with choosing instead of just deciding. Not UCLA or Stanford, not what I expected to do versus what someone else says is better. This time I'm going into "senior year" with a real sense of Self. I've got an interest in choosing what I want from the field of all possibilities.
I took the Landmark Forum last weekend. It changed my entire perspective on life, on my life. That's a second entry coming soon. I'll be taking the next course in their series in November and will be attending a weekly seminar over the next few months as well. The seminar is on commitment. I can't wait to apply it to my Luzca book, to relationships...a wide open second act.
A huge thanks to all the wonderful well-wishing I received. Blessings!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Chocolate Love
I woke up the other morning with dating on my mind. Not just dating, the beginning of what I hope will lead to my next great romance. A commited, deliberate and purposeful go, complete with dating a while instead of just settling with the first good-enough guy that comes my way, I woke up thinking it'd be a good idea to prep my family and closest friends. I left my bed and headed straight for the computer.
The bottom line is that I wanted to make sure those near and dear to me understood I was serious. I haven't been a big fan of sharing my space. No kids by choice. I've had a few pets, but lets just say they never really worked out.
In retrospect, an e-note saying I'm interested in exploring commitment in a way I've never contemplated before isn't particulary convincing. Nonetheless, the morning started with a journal entry disquised as a email. It took longer than I thought to try to explain myself. Go figure.
With the temperature expected to top 100 (38C), I couldn't put off my walk much longer. At 9am, it already felt like 80 degrees (27C). Off the computer and onto the street. A block or so away, I made sense of my unsent message. The relationship I'm ready to welcome won't be about me. It's about accepting into my life a love that best serves the growth of my spirit, the expression of love on earth and the master plan that created our unfathomably complex universe.
A couple blocks later, I saw a little chihuahua being called by it's owner. He did a dash into a gate that she couldn't enter immediately. As soon as she made her way to it's entrance, his eyes made clear he planned to hop back through the bars to the preferred destination she opposed.
I smiled, practically chuckled. She was not amused and met my glance sternly. Once she saw my eyes and knew I was simply enjoying the dance they were doing moreso than laughing at her predicament, she relaxed a few facial muscles and flashed a quick smile.
For the most part, all the folks around my community are friendly and pleasant. As I continued about my walk, there were plenty of greetings and warm hellos. It struck me that I was being showered with love all morning. Every time someone smiled, spoke or waved it was like a little Hershey's kiss from the universe. Sure enough, as I passed that favorite spot where the muses greet me, I was overcome with a new idea. Flavorsoflove. A new blog. A new series. An accounting of all the kinds of love that flows my way on a given day.
All of us are recipients of instances of love that we take for granted. Or maybe you don't take them for granted. Maybe you notice them all the time and are grateful. For the most part, I think few of us ever recognize the many little ways the universe sends us dallops, drops and kisses of love. We notice the avalanches, the waves, the pools. Noticable patterns point out the streams of love. But every little drop?
Each drop is its own unique flavor. Forget 31! As many flavors as there are moments in a day. As many as their are humans, bees, trees, flowers, birds and the countless creatures that cross our path or command our momentary attention.
Flavors of Love. What an awesome blog, I thought. Inspired, I bounced my way back towards home. Half a block from home, I see the cutest dog running onto the sidewalk after a car stopped to try to guide it out of the street. It was a small chihuahua and looked like the same smart, frisky dog that caught my eye earlier.
Before I go any further, know that I've never cared for a dog. I've had a rabbit, a chameleon, an incredibly smart conure parrot and a mated cockatoo pair. I've only begun to really appreciate dogs over the past few years. Last fall, I stopped by the local dog pound five or six times, but there was never that special click I require to bring anything or anyone into my own.
I remember one in particular came up and sniffed me. He was so cute. Then he turned back around. When a dog facing possible death has the courage to say "we're not a match" you notice. I finally decided to do what has always worked best for me. Leave it to the universe. What's mine always comes to me. If I'm to have a dog, it'll take a might special one for me to open up my home and share my space. Better not take any chances and just be ready to recognize what's mine when presented to me.
The temperature had risen another five degrees, at least, in the fifty minutes I'd been out. Since this striking creature looked like the dog I'd enjoyed watching earlier, I couldn't in good conscience just head on home and wish him luck. I figured I'd at least walk him back to his house.
It was surprising to me how readily he followed me. Folks on the street assumed he was mine. He seemed to have a slight limp on a rear leg, so after a block, I carried him. We bonded instantly.
It turned out I'd miscalculated the distance. It was a little further that I'd estimated. After a couple rings of the doorbell, I heard a dog rustling in the backyard of the home. I began to walk away. It wasn't theirs. The situation was entirely new for me. Now that I'd walked the dog all that way, I'd have to follow through with putting up signs. I'd need to get it back to its owner or take it to the pound or...something.
Before I was completely down the driveway, the woman came out and her pooch followed. Thank God. I wasn't crazy. The two did look substantially alike. At least, I hadn't imagined the similarity. Now that I'd involved myself, time for next steps.
Flavors of Love.
I carried him the half-mile back to my place. He came in and felt natural, comfortable. He was so at peace. Odd that such a beautiful, house-broken, well-trained and perfectly tempermented dog had no tags, no collar, no chip. Too much tv news. I immediately wondered if his owner had been foreclosed upon and forced to move to an apartment that wouldn't take pets. Or maybe, he just got lost and wondered too far from his home for the owner to locate.
I took him to hang out with my family today. They can't believe how perfectly suited we are to each other. It's about accepting into my life a love that best serves the growth of my spirit, the expression of love on earth and the master plan that created our unfathomably complex universe.
Flavors of Love. He's not the first good enough dog that passed my way. He's absolutely perfect for me. More like a cat than a dog. How often I've thought I'd love an affectionate, mild-mannered dog that was as quiet, stealth and calm as a cat. That's him!
I wake up at an otherwise unreasonable hour to make sure he gets a long, leisurely walk before I head off to arrive at summer school by 7:20am. If that don't say special, I can't imagine what would.
His name is K. Chocolate.
Mmmmmmmmmmm. Chocolate everyday.
Is the universe not perfect!
As for that human relationship...Is the universe not perfect! I'll do what I've always done. Go about my life and let perfection land in my lap.
Update: It's been a month. Chocolate is now officially adopted into my home. A friend sent an email exclaiming her surprise that three weeks later I still had the dog. I had to admit to her that it is my own way of speaking of my life that friends and family question my ability to commit. The following is an excerpt from an email to her. I include it here because it is so relevant to my process.
It has never occurred to me that I could take a non-Puritan approach to relationships and assume that my way is just as valid. By "my way" I mean accepting the gift of the lesson of each relationship, embracing it and then moving on. "Moving on" always sounds so horrible in our society. The mover-on is some sort of failure who can't stick it through, who doesn't have the balls, who lacks a sense of commitment.
I remember reading about a Native American tribe in Florida and the Caribbean (my favorite places, by the way). In their culture, when a woman wanted to end a relationship she simply placed all the man's belongings outside the teepee, hut or what have you. When the man came back and saw his stuff outside, he moved along. There's still plenty of room for drama and pain and suffering in such a system, but I was struck by whatever extent this culture, this community understood that relationships should work as long as their working. We are all in agreements with each other. When the agreements don't work any longer, either because they're outdated or because there's a breach on one side or another, why must we continue to enforce it? Why do we hold the agreement as more sacred than the parties?
Which brings me to the owner of the dog that I contacted.
She sent pictures. I shared with Gilbert that I saw a resemblance. It was enough that I planned to at least set-up a meet-to-see. She said the dog's name was Tiberius. I called the name, not a muscle moved. I called Chocolate, he turns and looks and awaits what I could possibly want to do--a walk, room change?
In the end, the dog was not hers.
How long will I keep Chocolate? Who is now K. Chocolate, Kenny C, KC or Sir Kenneth Chocolate if he meets the Queen.
I sadly have to admit that I've never entered anything with the intention of staying forever. I've entered with a commitment to stick with it for the long haul. Room to define long haul, I suppose. Maybe someone who sees lifetimes as one in a series is bound to see relationships the same way.
I've never entered anything with the intention of staying forever. Eternity is so very, very long. Forever seems at odds with evolution and progress.
I wonder if the earth will be here forever? If it isn't...does that mean that God, however conceived, was never committed to her? Then again, I suppose that's still under "till a natural death" stuff like Lola. Or...can anyone else see God packing up the spirits of the dinosaurs and carrying them back to the cosmic pet store and saying, "These didn't work out like I thought. Hey, what are those? Yeah, let me get a couple thousand of those Homo Sapien Erectus cuties and see what they do on that same blue marble."
We're all made in God's image.
As for Chocolate.
He's mine...now. I intend to keep him for the long haul. Thanks to what you inspired, I can take a first deliberate look at the possibility of a commitment that lasts not just one, two or three years, but ten or fifteen.
Which brings me back to when Chocolate came to me. How he came to me in the very spot where, outbound on my walk, I realized that my next relationship wasn't going to be about me and what I wanted, what my ego wanted, needed or felt it could handle. Clear as a blue summer sky, I knew that my next relationship was going to be about God's will, God's plan, spiritual growth and spiritual commitment.
So, I correct myself. Chocolate is not mine. Chocolate and I belong to one another. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh. So glad you inspired all this.
That's what is different this time. This is why your comment about three weeks didn't ruffle my feathers. You were expressing that something seemed different with KC, Mr. Chocolate. Whether you knew the how or why or not, you were right.
The bottom line is that I wanted to make sure those near and dear to me understood I was serious. I haven't been a big fan of sharing my space. No kids by choice. I've had a few pets, but lets just say they never really worked out.
In retrospect, an e-note saying I'm interested in exploring commitment in a way I've never contemplated before isn't particulary convincing. Nonetheless, the morning started with a journal entry disquised as a email. It took longer than I thought to try to explain myself. Go figure.
With the temperature expected to top 100 (38C), I couldn't put off my walk much longer. At 9am, it already felt like 80 degrees (27C). Off the computer and onto the street. A block or so away, I made sense of my unsent message. The relationship I'm ready to welcome won't be about me. It's about accepting into my life a love that best serves the growth of my spirit, the expression of love on earth and the master plan that created our unfathomably complex universe.
A couple blocks later, I saw a little chihuahua being called by it's owner. He did a dash into a gate that she couldn't enter immediately. As soon as she made her way to it's entrance, his eyes made clear he planned to hop back through the bars to the preferred destination she opposed.
I smiled, practically chuckled. She was not amused and met my glance sternly. Once she saw my eyes and knew I was simply enjoying the dance they were doing moreso than laughing at her predicament, she relaxed a few facial muscles and flashed a quick smile.
For the most part, all the folks around my community are friendly and pleasant. As I continued about my walk, there were plenty of greetings and warm hellos. It struck me that I was being showered with love all morning. Every time someone smiled, spoke or waved it was like a little Hershey's kiss from the universe. Sure enough, as I passed that favorite spot where the muses greet me, I was overcome with a new idea. Flavorsoflove. A new blog. A new series. An accounting of all the kinds of love that flows my way on a given day.
All of us are recipients of instances of love that we take for granted. Or maybe you don't take them for granted. Maybe you notice them all the time and are grateful. For the most part, I think few of us ever recognize the many little ways the universe sends us dallops, drops and kisses of love. We notice the avalanches, the waves, the pools. Noticable patterns point out the streams of love. But every little drop?
Each drop is its own unique flavor. Forget 31! As many flavors as there are moments in a day. As many as their are humans, bees, trees, flowers, birds and the countless creatures that cross our path or command our momentary attention.
Flavors of Love. What an awesome blog, I thought. Inspired, I bounced my way back towards home. Half a block from home, I see the cutest dog running onto the sidewalk after a car stopped to try to guide it out of the street. It was a small chihuahua and looked like the same smart, frisky dog that caught my eye earlier.
Before I go any further, know that I've never cared for a dog. I've had a rabbit, a chameleon, an incredibly smart conure parrot and a mated cockatoo pair. I've only begun to really appreciate dogs over the past few years. Last fall, I stopped by the local dog pound five or six times, but there was never that special click I require to bring anything or anyone into my own.
I remember one in particular came up and sniffed me. He was so cute. Then he turned back around. When a dog facing possible death has the courage to say "we're not a match" you notice. I finally decided to do what has always worked best for me. Leave it to the universe. What's mine always comes to me. If I'm to have a dog, it'll take a might special one for me to open up my home and share my space. Better not take any chances and just be ready to recognize what's mine when presented to me.
The temperature had risen another five degrees, at least, in the fifty minutes I'd been out. Since this striking creature looked like the dog I'd enjoyed watching earlier, I couldn't in good conscience just head on home and wish him luck. I figured I'd at least walk him back to his house.
It was surprising to me how readily he followed me. Folks on the street assumed he was mine. He seemed to have a slight limp on a rear leg, so after a block, I carried him. We bonded instantly.
It turned out I'd miscalculated the distance. It was a little further that I'd estimated. After a couple rings of the doorbell, I heard a dog rustling in the backyard of the home. I began to walk away. It wasn't theirs. The situation was entirely new for me. Now that I'd walked the dog all that way, I'd have to follow through with putting up signs. I'd need to get it back to its owner or take it to the pound or...something.
Before I was completely down the driveway, the woman came out and her pooch followed. Thank God. I wasn't crazy. The two did look substantially alike. At least, I hadn't imagined the similarity. Now that I'd involved myself, time for next steps.
Flavors of Love.
I carried him the half-mile back to my place. He came in and felt natural, comfortable. He was so at peace. Odd that such a beautiful, house-broken, well-trained and perfectly tempermented dog had no tags, no collar, no chip. Too much tv news. I immediately wondered if his owner had been foreclosed upon and forced to move to an apartment that wouldn't take pets. Or maybe, he just got lost and wondered too far from his home for the owner to locate.
I took him to hang out with my family today. They can't believe how perfectly suited we are to each other. It's about accepting into my life a love that best serves the growth of my spirit, the expression of love on earth and the master plan that created our unfathomably complex universe.
Flavors of Love. He's not the first good enough dog that passed my way. He's absolutely perfect for me. More like a cat than a dog. How often I've thought I'd love an affectionate, mild-mannered dog that was as quiet, stealth and calm as a cat. That's him!
I wake up at an otherwise unreasonable hour to make sure he gets a long, leisurely walk before I head off to arrive at summer school by 7:20am. If that don't say special, I can't imagine what would.
His name is K. Chocolate.
Mmmmmmmmmmm. Chocolate everyday.
Is the universe not perfect!
As for that human relationship...Is the universe not perfect! I'll do what I've always done. Go about my life and let perfection land in my lap.
Update: It's been a month. Chocolate is now officially adopted into my home. A friend sent an email exclaiming her surprise that three weeks later I still had the dog. I had to admit to her that it is my own way of speaking of my life that friends and family question my ability to commit. The following is an excerpt from an email to her. I include it here because it is so relevant to my process.
It has never occurred to me that I could take a non-Puritan approach to relationships and assume that my way is just as valid. By "my way" I mean accepting the gift of the lesson of each relationship, embracing it and then moving on. "Moving on" always sounds so horrible in our society. The mover-on is some sort of failure who can't stick it through, who doesn't have the balls, who lacks a sense of commitment.
I remember reading about a Native American tribe in Florida and the Caribbean (my favorite places, by the way). In their culture, when a woman wanted to end a relationship she simply placed all the man's belongings outside the teepee, hut or what have you. When the man came back and saw his stuff outside, he moved along. There's still plenty of room for drama and pain and suffering in such a system, but I was struck by whatever extent this culture, this community understood that relationships should work as long as their working. We are all in agreements with each other. When the agreements don't work any longer, either because they're outdated or because there's a breach on one side or another, why must we continue to enforce it? Why do we hold the agreement as more sacred than the parties?
Which brings me to the owner of the dog that I contacted.
She sent pictures. I shared with Gilbert that I saw a resemblance. It was enough that I planned to at least set-up a meet-to-see. She said the dog's name was Tiberius. I called the name, not a muscle moved. I called Chocolate, he turns and looks and awaits what I could possibly want to do--a walk, room change?
In the end, the dog was not hers.
How long will I keep Chocolate? Who is now K. Chocolate, Kenny C, KC or Sir Kenneth Chocolate if he meets the Queen.
I sadly have to admit that I've never entered anything with the intention of staying forever. I've entered with a commitment to stick with it for the long haul. Room to define long haul, I suppose. Maybe someone who sees lifetimes as one in a series is bound to see relationships the same way.
I've never entered anything with the intention of staying forever. Eternity is so very, very long. Forever seems at odds with evolution and progress.
I wonder if the earth will be here forever? If it isn't...does that mean that God, however conceived, was never committed to her? Then again, I suppose that's still under "till a natural death" stuff like Lola. Or...can anyone else see God packing up the spirits of the dinosaurs and carrying them back to the cosmic pet store and saying, "These didn't work out like I thought. Hey, what are those? Yeah, let me get a couple thousand of those Homo Sapien Erectus cuties and see what they do on that same blue marble."
We're all made in God's image.
As for Chocolate.
He's mine...now. I intend to keep him for the long haul. Thanks to what you inspired, I can take a first deliberate look at the possibility of a commitment that lasts not just one, two or three years, but ten or fifteen.
Which brings me back to when Chocolate came to me. How he came to me in the very spot where, outbound on my walk, I realized that my next relationship wasn't going to be about me and what I wanted, what my ego wanted, needed or felt it could handle. Clear as a blue summer sky, I knew that my next relationship was going to be about God's will, God's plan, spiritual growth and spiritual commitment.
So, I correct myself. Chocolate is not mine. Chocolate and I belong to one another. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh. So glad you inspired all this.
That's what is different this time. This is why your comment about three weeks didn't ruffle my feathers. You were expressing that something seemed different with KC, Mr. Chocolate. Whether you knew the how or why or not, you were right.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Humbled Obedience
With each day I get a little more obedient to the urgings and nudgings of the universe. I was to go to a Borders bookstore about twenty minutes away. I'd taken the time to talk a while on the phone before leaving and was considering a change in clothes to dress a little warmer for the evening.
Destiny, fate--"You'll be going there. No, not that other Borders. Yes, that far. No you can't go later, you should have left already." Still in my summer dress, I reached for my keys and headed out the door.
I get to the mall and entertainment complex and have the nerve to dilly-dally. Maybe I'll buy a jacket first. I go through a couple sale racks of jackets. There was nothing there for me. Back on the path of obedience, I finally head down to the bookstore.
I picked up a copy of the latest issue of Caribbean magazine; a copy of "A New Earth.." by Tolle; and a Creative Visualization workbook I didn't plan on, but which was part of the reason I was there. What was in it for me at the bookstore revealed itself within ten minutes of my being there.
There was a comfortable seating area near the front of store with six comfy chairs spaced in irregular intervals about a large bay-style window. I'd noticed them when I walked and took myself to one of the chairs with my reading material. There was a guy two chairs over who kept making this weird near-giggle sound as he read. I noted he must be reading something funny.
What turned out to be funny was the way his sounds were spaced in regular intervals. I've never known a book to rhythmically place the funny parts so that they're spread every minute or so. What was funnier still, was that as different people came and went in the seating area he would manage to contain his outbursts. It took a long time, till I was nearly done with my reading, before I realized that he was specifically doing it to either annoy me or get my attention. When someone was between us, he hardly made a peep. When a guy was on the other side of him, same thing. Thanks to the distraction he created, I took a moment to look up from my reading and pay attention to my surroundings. In particular, I took a few moments to notice the people in the immediate area. It's almost sad the way I can go through life and not pay the people around me any greater attention that I do the walls. I rarely go a day without thanking and blessing the sun or marveling at a tree. I'm not nearly so good about acknowledging the God in people, let alone making it a practice to see it.
What I saw upon glancing around:
A group of loud teenagers.
A pair of young lovers where the guys shows his devotion by pretending to enjoy sitting around while she reads.
An older woman unable to decide what to do--pick up the book she was glancing at or move along or sit down.
And then it hit me to anchor light into everyone in the store. It's not exactly practicing Reiki. I've been moving toward healing with light in place of the Reiki symbols. It's more intuitive and the energy feels cleaner, lighter. In this instance it was basically visualizing an increase in the white light coming through their crown chakras. I don't force the healing energy on the unsuspecting. Free will means everyone has the right to grow, progress and heal at their own pace. My role is simply to be a vehicle inviting the light down to each person. The light reaches down and is made readily available to any whose souls choose not to refuse.
As I focused my intention on visualing white light descending into each person, I had a wondrous experience. Energetically, I could sense the location and presence of every person in the store. Whether in adjoining rooms, behind rows and rows of shelves. After a few moments, I noticed my vision shifting and I was no longer looking at physical things. My perception shifted from my phyical eyes to, I'm guessing here, to my third eye. The density of people and things in the store shifted to something more akin to clouds. Instead of physical matter, everything thing looked like thick, heavy white clouds--the ones that move really really slow across the sky. There is shape, but no substance.
The funnels of white light that poured into these floating beings, formerly people, became overwhelming. I feared I might slip into a trance and look weird to anyone glancing my way. Talk about a new experience. Basically, it was a bit surreal, even for me.
In that moment, I suddenly understood why I had to go there, to that bookstore, at that time. I have no idea how the universe assembled that particular collection of individuals in the store at that moment. No idea who needed healing energy, who may have needed a blessing, or who may have even received some "miracle" of insight or inspiration by my going there to anchor in a little light for that brief interval. I did know with certainty afterwards, that I'd been of service.
Following an urge and being the means to someone else's blessing is something all of us do all the time. We don't always know it. It isn't always something that stands out to us while it is happening. As more than a handful of cutesy emails have suggested, something as simply as taking a moment to smile at someone and wish them a good day has the power to reverse a mood, change a day, perhaps a future.
After the experience with the light, I congratulated myself on my obedience and felt pretty fulfilled. I returned to my book. Anolder woman that sat between myself and the noisy gentleman for a while had come and gone, so he was back to making his periodic grunting chuckles.
Then a woman spoke above a whisper to ask another young lady if she could use her cell phone. That's a rarity. I can honestly say I've never seen a stranger ask someone to use their cell phone. She explained in tones that alteranted between frustration and agitation that she'd been waiting for her husband for a while now, didn't have her own phone, and wanted to check his status.
I'm fairly certain she was Persian and spoke Farsi into the phone. I don't speak Farsi, but I translated the conversation. "Where are you. You were supposed to be here already. I can't believe you had me waiting all this time." What I'd guess was unspoken but understood by her husband was, "you do this all the time, and though I have no way to get back at you this moment, you should expect to pay for this at sometime in the near future as soon as I can figure a way to stick it to you without jeopardizing the little power I currently have over my day, my self and my life." A loose translation.
She paced back and forth after she hung up and returned the phone to her benefactor. We are all saints and angels in the course of a day. Sometimes little demons, too.
She was so distracting, I couldn't read. I kept getting this image in my head of inviting her to sit in the vacant chair next to me and asking if I could hold her hand with the intention of sending Reiki in this way. Not surreptitiously mind you. Straight out ask, "Excuse me. Would you mind sitting here and letting me hold your hand a while? I practice Reiki and energy healing and would really like the opportunity to anchor some positive energy, some light into your being."
Having just finished being so self-satisfied with my obedience at anonymous healing, I was confronted by the limits of my obedience. Leave it to the universe to keep me from getting big-headed about my willingness to serve. When given an opportunity to step out of the shadows and into the light, to put my pride aside and open myself to a sideways glance or reasonable rejection, I cower and hide and send a little energy anonymously.
Oh, how I agonized. At one point, I thought I'd do it. I'd risk sounding and looking ridiculous. Funny thing, too. At the moment I thought seriously of breaking all social norms, she paced toward me, stood six inches just to the right of me and paused a long while. Long enough for me to have invited once, twice, three times...I wasn't going to do it. And she walked away. As if God, the angels said, "Here you go. Afraid to walk over, we'll make it even easier."
My email signature is a line that I hope becomes part of my current project: "In Heaven, we have a motto: It's no one's job to save the world. If everyone would do the job they're assigned, live their best life, the world wouldn't need saving."
If that was my job in that moment, to just step out of my comfort level and do what I do in the shadows in the light of day...I can see why God has to send saviors.
Destiny, fate--"You'll be going there. No, not that other Borders. Yes, that far. No you can't go later, you should have left already." Still in my summer dress, I reached for my keys and headed out the door.
I get to the mall and entertainment complex and have the nerve to dilly-dally. Maybe I'll buy a jacket first. I go through a couple sale racks of jackets. There was nothing there for me. Back on the path of obedience, I finally head down to the bookstore.
I picked up a copy of the latest issue of Caribbean magazine; a copy of "A New Earth.." by Tolle; and a Creative Visualization workbook I didn't plan on, but which was part of the reason I was there. What was in it for me at the bookstore revealed itself within ten minutes of my being there.
There was a comfortable seating area near the front of store with six comfy chairs spaced in irregular intervals about a large bay-style window. I'd noticed them when I walked and took myself to one of the chairs with my reading material. There was a guy two chairs over who kept making this weird near-giggle sound as he read. I noted he must be reading something funny.
What turned out to be funny was the way his sounds were spaced in regular intervals. I've never known a book to rhythmically place the funny parts so that they're spread every minute or so. What was funnier still, was that as different people came and went in the seating area he would manage to contain his outbursts. It took a long time, till I was nearly done with my reading, before I realized that he was specifically doing it to either annoy me or get my attention. When someone was between us, he hardly made a peep. When a guy was on the other side of him, same thing. Thanks to the distraction he created, I took a moment to look up from my reading and pay attention to my surroundings. In particular, I took a few moments to notice the people in the immediate area. It's almost sad the way I can go through life and not pay the people around me any greater attention that I do the walls. I rarely go a day without thanking and blessing the sun or marveling at a tree. I'm not nearly so good about acknowledging the God in people, let alone making it a practice to see it.
What I saw upon glancing around:
A group of loud teenagers.
A pair of young lovers where the guys shows his devotion by pretending to enjoy sitting around while she reads.
An older woman unable to decide what to do--pick up the book she was glancing at or move along or sit down.
And then it hit me to anchor light into everyone in the store. It's not exactly practicing Reiki. I've been moving toward healing with light in place of the Reiki symbols. It's more intuitive and the energy feels cleaner, lighter. In this instance it was basically visualizing an increase in the white light coming through their crown chakras. I don't force the healing energy on the unsuspecting. Free will means everyone has the right to grow, progress and heal at their own pace. My role is simply to be a vehicle inviting the light down to each person. The light reaches down and is made readily available to any whose souls choose not to refuse.
As I focused my intention on visualing white light descending into each person, I had a wondrous experience. Energetically, I could sense the location and presence of every person in the store. Whether in adjoining rooms, behind rows and rows of shelves. After a few moments, I noticed my vision shifting and I was no longer looking at physical things. My perception shifted from my phyical eyes to, I'm guessing here, to my third eye. The density of people and things in the store shifted to something more akin to clouds. Instead of physical matter, everything thing looked like thick, heavy white clouds--the ones that move really really slow across the sky. There is shape, but no substance.
The funnels of white light that poured into these floating beings, formerly people, became overwhelming. I feared I might slip into a trance and look weird to anyone glancing my way. Talk about a new experience. Basically, it was a bit surreal, even for me.
In that moment, I suddenly understood why I had to go there, to that bookstore, at that time. I have no idea how the universe assembled that particular collection of individuals in the store at that moment. No idea who needed healing energy, who may have needed a blessing, or who may have even received some "miracle" of insight or inspiration by my going there to anchor in a little light for that brief interval. I did know with certainty afterwards, that I'd been of service.
Following an urge and being the means to someone else's blessing is something all of us do all the time. We don't always know it. It isn't always something that stands out to us while it is happening. As more than a handful of cutesy emails have suggested, something as simply as taking a moment to smile at someone and wish them a good day has the power to reverse a mood, change a day, perhaps a future.
After the experience with the light, I congratulated myself on my obedience and felt pretty fulfilled. I returned to my book. Anolder woman that sat between myself and the noisy gentleman for a while had come and gone, so he was back to making his periodic grunting chuckles.
Then a woman spoke above a whisper to ask another young lady if she could use her cell phone. That's a rarity. I can honestly say I've never seen a stranger ask someone to use their cell phone. She explained in tones that alteranted between frustration and agitation that she'd been waiting for her husband for a while now, didn't have her own phone, and wanted to check his status.
I'm fairly certain she was Persian and spoke Farsi into the phone. I don't speak Farsi, but I translated the conversation. "Where are you. You were supposed to be here already. I can't believe you had me waiting all this time." What I'd guess was unspoken but understood by her husband was, "you do this all the time, and though I have no way to get back at you this moment, you should expect to pay for this at sometime in the near future as soon as I can figure a way to stick it to you without jeopardizing the little power I currently have over my day, my self and my life." A loose translation.
She paced back and forth after she hung up and returned the phone to her benefactor. We are all saints and angels in the course of a day. Sometimes little demons, too.
She was so distracting, I couldn't read. I kept getting this image in my head of inviting her to sit in the vacant chair next to me and asking if I could hold her hand with the intention of sending Reiki in this way. Not surreptitiously mind you. Straight out ask, "Excuse me. Would you mind sitting here and letting me hold your hand a while? I practice Reiki and energy healing and would really like the opportunity to anchor some positive energy, some light into your being."
Having just finished being so self-satisfied with my obedience at anonymous healing, I was confronted by the limits of my obedience. Leave it to the universe to keep me from getting big-headed about my willingness to serve. When given an opportunity to step out of the shadows and into the light, to put my pride aside and open myself to a sideways glance or reasonable rejection, I cower and hide and send a little energy anonymously.
Oh, how I agonized. At one point, I thought I'd do it. I'd risk sounding and looking ridiculous. Funny thing, too. At the moment I thought seriously of breaking all social norms, she paced toward me, stood six inches just to the right of me and paused a long while. Long enough for me to have invited once, twice, three times...I wasn't going to do it. And she walked away. As if God, the angels said, "Here you go. Afraid to walk over, we'll make it even easier."
My email signature is a line that I hope becomes part of my current project: "In Heaven, we have a motto: It's no one's job to save the world. If everyone would do the job they're assigned, live their best life, the world wouldn't need saving."
If that was my job in that moment, to just step out of my comfort level and do what I do in the shadows in the light of day...I can see why God has to send saviors.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
writing buddies
A short blurb. I was hitting a wall and feeling a little frustrated. I wanted to download more details about my current writing project. I knew two things needed to happen. Both required crystal assistance.
The layout: 12 o'clock--celestite, transchanneling and blue halite. 2 o'clock-opalite. At 4, 6 and 8 o'clock my three moqui balls. Finally, at 10 o'clock-spectrolite sphere.
There was a hang-up. There was someone whose energy kept hanging around me. I couldn't figure out what to do about it. Finally, it dawned on me to send this person healing energy and free myself of the attachment. Fantastic.
I've been noticing that I no longer rely on Reiki symbols, but am progressively more intuitive. More and more I am using light as my primary healing tool. The colors, shapes and uses of different wavelengths of light present themselves in partnership with my intention. I still use symbols on occasion, but less and less so. These come intuitively as well.
I set-up my writing space for sketching out the novels big picture and scenes. I invoked a standard prayer and proceeded to send the healing. It felt successful. I sealed up both our auras and then prayed for my writing to progress.
Did it? I'll spare you the bulk of the details save this: There was one character whose name I couldn't make out. Keep in mind that about 15 characters, including eight of the nine major characters have come to me with names, birthdates and their backgrounds and major story lines. The one major character that held out I'd given a nickname in everything so far.
Tonight, while re-reading some of the stuff I'd written so far, I saw that I had written about her but used her daughter's name instead. I felt ready to hear her name. What exactly had been the block, I don't know.
I began to scribble something on the corner of the page. It was incomprehensible at first. Closer inspection and it began to look like some other language. This character is born and raised in Africa so I figured maybe I was playing around with how I'd expect to see her name in native script.
Further inspection and I began to recognize a couple shapes. Years and years ago I'd taken a Hebrew course at a local synagogue. A crew of African-American guys who were dabbling in Afro-Judaic studies had signed up. It sounded interesting so I tagged along.
Long story short, my right brain had to bypass my left brain to get me the name. I got so excited about it...and a little scared that I'm trippin'...when the name started to take shape I stopped.
Maybe the left brain still isn't ready.
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