Into an Ordinary State of Consciousness with this post, as opposed to my typical Shamanic Trance...
The alarm goes off. Again? I have to actually get up?
My brain doesn't understand this information. I mean after all, it's summer. What the hell does waking up in the morning have to do with summer? I don't see the connection. In fact, waking up has never been my style, ever since I was very young, I was never a morning person.
I drag my slightly aging body out from underneath the covers and lift my head. My phone rings. "Hi Mommy. Grandpa is taking me to the library. Pick me up from there." Since Gramps is down the street, my kid seems to think he can run me. And sometimes he is successful. Fail for me, win for him. Who's the parent?
It's time for the morning ritual. Breeeeeeeathe. Yooooooga. ....a big glass of water, some sole and one or two apples later, I am ready for the day. I celebrate my eventual rise with two bags of lemon tea and a boca patty on bread, and fresh seasoned tomato salad from my best friend's garden. Ahh, the pleasures of life...and then it happens. I remember the stack of work I've left for myself since I'm in a masters program. I am chained, bound and virtually gagged to this program until I finish, 30 grand later. It pays to be a teacher. Literally. Only problem is, this is not exactly what I signed up for. I should have read the fine print, otherwise I would have realized that saving the kids would just have to wait until I became a millionaire. But I digress.
Limitations, delimitations, hypothesis, and dependent variables all started to flow into a sticky, oozy mush as I studied. Crap. The big crap of the masters program is that here I was, sitting here, having to go through the terror of Statistics class repeatedly, for what seemed like the fifth time in my life. This was my least favorite class, every time. Finite math is like this huge monster running very quickly at me while my legs were always heavy as mud, running away in slow motion. I hate nightmares, and this was a recurring one throughout my life, only the monster had ram horns, big curly ones. I'm starting to think that's another post where I get to ramble about my childhood. So I digress again. I'm a digressor. Er? English class memories...Hmm, never mind.
Man, had I just taken up psychology as I was first inclined to do back in college, I would have this statistical shmistical crap under my belt and handled to the point where all this minutia could have been eliminated. Derailed. Pushed off the edge of a rabid, menacing precipice...but no, back into the book "rabbit hole" I go...and one assignment is completely finished. Now this is an accomplishment for a lazy, hazy summer break that I thought I would never achieve.
I grab a cup of tea, some vitamins and my brain as I head to the bedroom to select clothes for my exercise classes I now have to go teach. Ahh, such is the mundanity of the Ordinary State of Consciousness, that is yet so popular and as "they" say, necessary, to the outer and inner workings of what we're all identifying as Life. I guess that means this post is to be continued...
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Love is the question, the answer, and the design.
Our deepest desire is to feel two hearts beat as one, or 16, if you have intuitive empathy...
Love is that overtly clear and esoterically mysterious entity and idea all at the same time. We chase it, we crave it on a base sexual level to a spiritually enriching level. We want it, need it, expect it and sometimes are addicted to it. We live for love and sometimes we even die for love. But is love what we really want and truly need to "make" ourselves happy? Are we defining base physical, rudimentary ideas as the symbol of love, or do we understand that love's current runs far, far deeper than any of us truly realize?
Do we know that sex does not equal love? Do we understand that most of our experiences of love are decided upon in our mind, consisting of patterns and conditions mostly based on what traditional upbringing we've had? Do we get that our love is a loosely defined term at best, and completely misread and misunderstood or disregarded at its least? Do we know that the letters of love in numerology equal 9, a vibration of karmic, cyclical completion? Do we understand that many of our world's greatest spiritual leaders knew love but did not transfer it into a physical act of intimacy?
Love doesn't fight for ownership of another person. It does not possess their body and bind them into a marriage. Love does not strangle, struggle, choke, or stifle movement. Love does not hold anyone back from pursuing their dreams. Love doesn't make one commit their time, energy, intentions or intimate actions to another. Love is neither monogamous nor polyamorous. Love is not blind nor does it have any eyes, hands, feet or mind. Love doesn't pay any bills or buy any houses, fancy clothes, shoes, cars or mansions. This is our definition, not the truth of love.
So what am I really trying to say here? The next time you want to blame or accuse someone for not doing something for you that you think in your mind they should have done...or they say something that "hurts" your feelings (your past mental tapes and trigger points), the next time someone doesn't want to call your connection with them anything in particular or say the words "I love You" which add up to a hill of meaninglessness if the person doesn't practice being love....challenge yourself to transcend your mental tapes and realize that, truly, we all are a product of our experiences and we all are of love, no more, no less.
Love is ever pervasive, all knowing and feeling, like air. It has no limits, boundaries or definitions unless we give it one. It has no conditions, no feelings or thoughts. It is our deepest sense of self without giving it a voice, a look, or an earthbound energy. It is all that we know, and all that we do not know. It is the basis for the world's religions at their purest, most original intent and origin. It is the reason for researchers, scientists, artists, mothers, teachers, visionaries, producers and anyone in between to fight for something, no matter what it is, especially those things where we are not sure why we fight so hard. Every advocacy is a selfless act of love on some level....whatever level we can identify.
It is, in its most effortless sense, the design of the universe, universe meaning one song. That's all, the All, the I am, the wang chung, the yin yang, the Om Shanti, the Namaste, the John 3:16, the Angel Gabriel visiting Muhammad, the sacred Kabbalah, the Buddha and the Bodhissattva, Nirvana, the schma, the Word, the Way, the Light, the One source, Brahman, All that Is, the Truth. Love is, really, all there is.
Love is that overtly clear and esoterically mysterious entity and idea all at the same time. We chase it, we crave it on a base sexual level to a spiritually enriching level. We want it, need it, expect it and sometimes are addicted to it. We live for love and sometimes we even die for love. But is love what we really want and truly need to "make" ourselves happy? Are we defining base physical, rudimentary ideas as the symbol of love, or do we understand that love's current runs far, far deeper than any of us truly realize?
Do we know that sex does not equal love? Do we understand that most of our experiences of love are decided upon in our mind, consisting of patterns and conditions mostly based on what traditional upbringing we've had? Do we get that our love is a loosely defined term at best, and completely misread and misunderstood or disregarded at its least? Do we know that the letters of love in numerology equal 9, a vibration of karmic, cyclical completion? Do we understand that many of our world's greatest spiritual leaders knew love but did not transfer it into a physical act of intimacy?
Love doesn't fight for ownership of another person. It does not possess their body and bind them into a marriage. Love does not strangle, struggle, choke, or stifle movement. Love does not hold anyone back from pursuing their dreams. Love doesn't make one commit their time, energy, intentions or intimate actions to another. Love is neither monogamous nor polyamorous. Love is not blind nor does it have any eyes, hands, feet or mind. Love doesn't pay any bills or buy any houses, fancy clothes, shoes, cars or mansions. This is our definition, not the truth of love.
So what am I really trying to say here? The next time you want to blame or accuse someone for not doing something for you that you think in your mind they should have done...or they say something that "hurts" your feelings (your past mental tapes and trigger points), the next time someone doesn't want to call your connection with them anything in particular or say the words "I love You" which add up to a hill of meaninglessness if the person doesn't practice being love....challenge yourself to transcend your mental tapes and realize that, truly, we all are a product of our experiences and we all are of love, no more, no less.
Love is ever pervasive, all knowing and feeling, like air. It has no limits, boundaries or definitions unless we give it one. It has no conditions, no feelings or thoughts. It is our deepest sense of self without giving it a voice, a look, or an earthbound energy. It is all that we know, and all that we do not know. It is the basis for the world's religions at their purest, most original intent and origin. It is the reason for researchers, scientists, artists, mothers, teachers, visionaries, producers and anyone in between to fight for something, no matter what it is, especially those things where we are not sure why we fight so hard. Every advocacy is a selfless act of love on some level....whatever level we can identify.
It is, in its most effortless sense, the design of the universe, universe meaning one song. That's all, the All, the I am, the wang chung, the yin yang, the Om Shanti, the Namaste, the John 3:16, the Angel Gabriel visiting Muhammad, the sacred Kabbalah, the Buddha and the Bodhissattva, Nirvana, the schma, the Word, the Way, the Light, the One source, Brahman, All that Is, the Truth. Love is, really, all there is.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Capitalizing once on the Thrice Great.
Oh that Hermes, what a cad...dropping "his" pearls of wisdom on the universe, or from the universe, as it were...and here everyone else is, making money on this wisdom "they themselves" supposedly have come up with. The funny thing is, it's all been done before, and already once by the thrice great, Hermes Trismegistus. Hermetic principles were made out to be this esoteric, occult thing (two words currently given the meaning "hidden") because of Constantine. Really Constantine? That threatened, were you?
Hermes apparently was deified as Thoth, which is sort of an awesome proposition considering the representation that Thoth holds and is as a God of the Sciences, math, writing, and generally speaking, the attainment of knowledge. If this be so...let the knowledge of the universe pour forth on my fingertips as I speak the words of ancient wisdom through the spiritual guidance of Thoth. He's becoming my new go-to guy....
So, I thought it was cool that the Hermetic principles were not all that secret and haven't been since the days of the Christian takeover, though during the times of deep conquest, in order to keep the Divine Flame alive, people often had to go in secret to caves and forest woodland areas in order to practice, hence robes and a renaming of the teachings just to hide it from the powers that be...although every spiritual leader worth their salt knew this ancient teaching and is currently the basis of all spiritual literature and sacred texts.
The seven Hermetic principles are: Mentalism, correspondence, cause and effect, polarity, rhythm, vibration, gender. Each could most possibly be self-explanation at one point. These principles grab at you and bring forth the essential essence that is uniquely, in a word, Truth. You. Everything we need to know that we, in fact, did learn in Kindergarten. Think about it. We learned to use our minds to solve problems and overcome difficulties, we learned how to relate with others in a pleasant manner, cause and effect, the difference between polar opposites (good and bad, etc.), music, touch and feel, and that we each had to go to separate bathrooms because we were now considered "big boys and girls."....
I could go on about how the basic principles we have been raised with just continue to get revisited and are resurfaced now and again through self help, or I could just join the masses of people who are writing and find my angle to ride. Being a philosopher is tough because you simply and want to Think about these things. Being a teacher is a much more active form of philosophizing...and then everyone comes to you for everything, even when it's the kitchen sink that's not working, instead of your polarity or vibration. But that's a completely different story.
Hermes apparently was deified as Thoth, which is sort of an awesome proposition considering the representation that Thoth holds and is as a God of the Sciences, math, writing, and generally speaking, the attainment of knowledge. If this be so...let the knowledge of the universe pour forth on my fingertips as I speak the words of ancient wisdom through the spiritual guidance of Thoth. He's becoming my new go-to guy....
So, I thought it was cool that the Hermetic principles were not all that secret and haven't been since the days of the Christian takeover, though during the times of deep conquest, in order to keep the Divine Flame alive, people often had to go in secret to caves and forest woodland areas in order to practice, hence robes and a renaming of the teachings just to hide it from the powers that be...although every spiritual leader worth their salt knew this ancient teaching and is currently the basis of all spiritual literature and sacred texts.
The seven Hermetic principles are: Mentalism, correspondence, cause and effect, polarity, rhythm, vibration, gender. Each could most possibly be self-explanation at one point. These principles grab at you and bring forth the essential essence that is uniquely, in a word, Truth. You. Everything we need to know that we, in fact, did learn in Kindergarten. Think about it. We learned to use our minds to solve problems and overcome difficulties, we learned how to relate with others in a pleasant manner, cause and effect, the difference between polar opposites (good and bad, etc.), music, touch and feel, and that we each had to go to separate bathrooms because we were now considered "big boys and girls."....
I could go on about how the basic principles we have been raised with just continue to get revisited and are resurfaced now and again through self help, or I could just join the masses of people who are writing and find my angle to ride. Being a philosopher is tough because you simply and want to Think about these things. Being a teacher is a much more active form of philosophizing...and then everyone comes to you for everything, even when it's the kitchen sink that's not working, instead of your polarity or vibration. But that's a completely different story.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesday Morning
It's 8:20a.
Yeah, the day, she has begun again. I race through the school to the library, handing off electronic materials, and I get my head bitten clear off by the librarian. "Had you not caught me I would not have been standing here! I'm upstairs!" She yells. My face felt stuck in the blast...pondering mind could not help but feel her words were spent uselessly in my face. There would be no payoff. "...Umm, okay, I can come back later. Thanks." Bipolarity rules.
I manage a quick saunter to my car and begin rummaging through its contents. Banana peel on seat, check. Hatchback opened and water bottles filled, check. Candy thrown into the arms of a bystanding student helper, check. Lackeys rule. So do vagabonds, which I apparently am, judging from the looks of the inner workings of my car.
Now I decidedly sit to the computer and begin my day, taking roll and checking emails. Oh, the busy life of a teacher, I internally report, as my children begin to slowly drive me insane. That's when they get the speech on "instead of wondering why you didn't get run over and how the car keeps missing you, feel thankful that it did."
I made my to-do list and realize what an impossible task my to-do really is. ...and so my most current "built-in Connie feature" is to figure out which priorities are truly most worth prioritizing, which means everything else all but makes the list. Sigh. Trudge, trudge, trudge.
Nutrition rolls around and I spend a portion of it yelling at kids in the hall, which is what they are when they're not in my room, meaning a lot more noise. I breathe Dragon Fire on them, making myself understand my lack of a yoga practice this morning. This is why I practice yoga: because when days like the one aforementioned happen, I'm floating on cloud 9, somewhere else in other worlds, instead of being on the planet with the crap we sometimes swim in. Rambling through..
Yeah, the day, she has begun again. I race through the school to the library, handing off electronic materials, and I get my head bitten clear off by the librarian. "Had you not caught me I would not have been standing here! I'm upstairs!" She yells. My face felt stuck in the blast...pondering mind could not help but feel her words were spent uselessly in my face. There would be no payoff. "...Umm, okay, I can come back later. Thanks." Bipolarity rules.
I manage a quick saunter to my car and begin rummaging through its contents. Banana peel on seat, check. Hatchback opened and water bottles filled, check. Candy thrown into the arms of a bystanding student helper, check. Lackeys rule. So do vagabonds, which I apparently am, judging from the looks of the inner workings of my car.
Now I decidedly sit to the computer and begin my day, taking roll and checking emails. Oh, the busy life of a teacher, I internally report, as my children begin to slowly drive me insane. That's when they get the speech on "instead of wondering why you didn't get run over and how the car keeps missing you, feel thankful that it did."
I made my to-do list and realize what an impossible task my to-do really is. ...and so my most current "built-in Connie feature" is to figure out which priorities are truly most worth prioritizing, which means everything else all but makes the list. Sigh. Trudge, trudge, trudge.
Nutrition rolls around and I spend a portion of it yelling at kids in the hall, which is what they are when they're not in my room, meaning a lot more noise. I breathe Dragon Fire on them, making myself understand my lack of a yoga practice this morning. This is why I practice yoga: because when days like the one aforementioned happen, I'm floating on cloud 9, somewhere else in other worlds, instead of being on the planet with the crap we sometimes swim in. Rambling through..
Friday, April 23, 2010
3:14a : Pin drop thoughts
3:14a. Wow. I should be sleep. I give a great yawn and roll my head once around. Fingertips get to talking and soon the blogging is on, yes it hath begun.
I open my rather weary eyes and cock my head to one side as I type and listen to the bathroom light I've managed to leave running. What do I anymore have to say? Is my voice still there? I have not used it in some time...I sift through the moral compass of my heart and wonder if I've currently made some moves that have promised no one light, love or freedom.
Freedom. Sounds like such a free word, but oh such heavy price to pay, especially when that price is that relationship that could have done this amazing thing but instead, did not and in fact hurt alot of people in the process.
I stand and walk towards my dimly lit room, a shadow of its former self after having thrown away all external coverings. Now not only did I throw away the sheets, I tossed the pillows as well, and with a minimal amount of money, I decided to press on anyway. It needed to be done since it signaled a certain end of a certain energy I had been trying to shake and move for some time. New pillows, new shams, new covers, new color. Oh it is gonna be great to lie in. Alone. Hmmph.
...Well, I did say I threw a lot away... I hope not as much as I feel...
New opportunities await me. As I walk into the kitchen, fragrances stimulate my memory of the kitchen representing comfort, creativity and opportunity. Maybe that's why I stand in there so often.
Freedom. Sounds like such a free word, but oh such heavy price to pay, especially when that price is that relationship that could have done this amazing thing but instead, did not and in fact hurt alot of people in the process.
I stand and walk towards my dimly lit room, a shadow of its former self after having thrown away all external coverings. Now not only did I throw away the sheets, I tossed the pillows as well, and with a minimal amount of money, I decided to press on anyway. It needed to be done since it signaled a certain end of a certain energy I had been trying to shake and move for some time. New pillows, new shams, new covers, new color. Oh it is gonna be great to lie in. Alone. Hmmph.
...Well, I did say I threw a lot away... I hope not as much as I feel...
New opportunities await me. As I walk into the kitchen, fragrances stimulate my memory of the kitchen representing comfort, creativity and opportunity. Maybe that's why I stand in there so often.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Snow on the Mountain
First fire, then ice, both being a wondrous thing.
I wake up early Saturday morning to a bright chill in the air, much related to the weather being frightfully nippy outside. In typical theatrical fashion, I excitedly lift my arms into a stretching yawn before swinging my legs out of bed.
In order to wake up, I must perform my breathing meditation, yoga, at least two cups of water, then coffee. Saturdays are usually my day to languidly read and explore relaxation and restful consciousness, a little scriptural study, or browsing the net. This morning was no different as I pick up a book I've been meaning to get to for some time, quite possibly, years.
So I decide to try hanging upside down on my inversion board, which is in my son's room, and I catch a glimpse of what I could easily call one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in a while (besides the glowing face of my son Kai): snow on the mountain.
Yes, my goodness, what a majestic sight, the pureness of the snow, the bluish tint to the white, suddenly gave me this exhilarated feeling of wanting to fly into the mountain's fluffy winter coat and get a taste of the seasons, fully enjoying the absence of snow on the ground near my home. I stood there in awe, just staring at the meditative calm before me. Here it was, the mountains that see it all, experience it all and yet emerge unchanged from its experience. This mountain has been through hell and back. In the heat of the summer, I remember looking out onto that same mountain, standing amidst unbreathable air, planning a trip to some fresher air in the Sequoias, while the hillside burned and threatened hundreds of homes and lives. Now, that same mountain was before me, covered in a thick blanket of billowy white powder, just as peaceful as it was when it was under fire.
Can I stand to learn a lesson from the mountain who emerges virtually unchanged even through all the change done unto her? Could this be some sort of a sign to invite and allow miracles to occur in my life? Is this a cue to honor the poignancy of life and all that shows me love? Did the mountain in all her glory show me love that day? Because this is what I could feel: pure, unbiased, unadulterated love emanating from that hillside. As the rains came and took the filthy air from our atmosphere, it replaced it with this glowing reminder that nature's beauty, variance and unpredictability can express an incredible amount of crisp, cleansing, purifying love.
At that moment, I became once again proud of being a part of this glorious earth, turned my body upside down on the inversion board, meditated for the enormous shift my life was about to experience, and restarted my day.
I wake up early Saturday morning to a bright chill in the air, much related to the weather being frightfully nippy outside. In typical theatrical fashion, I excitedly lift my arms into a stretching yawn before swinging my legs out of bed.
In order to wake up, I must perform my breathing meditation, yoga, at least two cups of water, then coffee. Saturdays are usually my day to languidly read and explore relaxation and restful consciousness, a little scriptural study, or browsing the net. This morning was no different as I pick up a book I've been meaning to get to for some time, quite possibly, years.
So I decide to try hanging upside down on my inversion board, which is in my son's room, and I catch a glimpse of what I could easily call one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in a while (besides the glowing face of my son Kai): snow on the mountain.
Yes, my goodness, what a majestic sight, the pureness of the snow, the bluish tint to the white, suddenly gave me this exhilarated feeling of wanting to fly into the mountain's fluffy winter coat and get a taste of the seasons, fully enjoying the absence of snow on the ground near my home. I stood there in awe, just staring at the meditative calm before me. Here it was, the mountains that see it all, experience it all and yet emerge unchanged from its experience. This mountain has been through hell and back. In the heat of the summer, I remember looking out onto that same mountain, standing amidst unbreathable air, planning a trip to some fresher air in the Sequoias, while the hillside burned and threatened hundreds of homes and lives. Now, that same mountain was before me, covered in a thick blanket of billowy white powder, just as peaceful as it was when it was under fire.
Can I stand to learn a lesson from the mountain who emerges virtually unchanged even through all the change done unto her? Could this be some sort of a sign to invite and allow miracles to occur in my life? Is this a cue to honor the poignancy of life and all that shows me love? Did the mountain in all her glory show me love that day? Because this is what I could feel: pure, unbiased, unadulterated love emanating from that hillside. As the rains came and took the filthy air from our atmosphere, it replaced it with this glowing reminder that nature's beauty, variance and unpredictability can express an incredible amount of crisp, cleansing, purifying love.
At that moment, I became once again proud of being a part of this glorious earth, turned my body upside down on the inversion board, meditated for the enormous shift my life was about to experience, and restarted my day.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Can One find all within One?
Can one person, center, party line, companion, or system service all needs of the multifaceted self?
...Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.
When I think of the number or written numeral "one," I think of standing alone, coming back to basics, simplicity, the essence of Self. One. When I think of being Blissfully Fit, I think of all aspects of the Self coming together to create balance. One. So then, getting back to basics is all about exploring the multifaceted aspects of Self.
So then, can one holistic center create a place where all separate pieces can integrate into a unit?
This is my challenge, and it begins now.
...Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.
When I think of the number or written numeral "one," I think of standing alone, coming back to basics, simplicity, the essence of Self. One. When I think of being Blissfully Fit, I think of all aspects of the Self coming together to create balance. One. So then, getting back to basics is all about exploring the multifaceted aspects of Self.
So then, can one holistic center create a place where all separate pieces can integrate into a unit?
This is my challenge, and it begins now.
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