Spontaneous Quantum and Newtonian Ritual
So, I've been going through it lately. Usually I can simultaneously go through something while also having some outside perspective on myself so as to direct myself to get support, clarity or a direction in which to move. Inotherwords, to go through something but also shift it. Not so as of late – overwhelming stuff, complicated, and loud, loud voices in my head, none too flattering.
At least now I have some perspective on what's going on with me: I have some splendid plans and goals and desires for the near and far future, and they are great and grand and will require a me that is larger, greater and grander than the me I am at this moment. The process of growing, expanding, shifting is uncomfortable, painful even, strange and disconcerting.
So, you want to hear one thing that helped?
I had a coaching session with my dear friend, who is a high-end corporate conflict-resolution coach, paid over $10,000 a day for his expertise, ability and heart. (No, he didn't charge me $10,000!)
In knowing him, I have observed that there is a way he speaks and relates to people that powerfully conveys his value or the value of whatever he is talking about. I originally set up our session to get the inside scoop on how he was so good at this: knowing his own value, or the value of whatever he is behind, and conveying that powerfully and masterfully. And also, to put it bluntly, because I suck at these things he's so good at.
I got that, and I got more.
There are two things I go from my friend, the wondercoach. First is a distinction from NLP (Neuro-Lingusistic Programming) which says that for a shift to take hold, it has to be both "Quantum" and "Newtonian." Quantum, meaning on a cellular level, a level of our make-up, our past, our energies; Newtonian meaning on the level of causality, of concrete steps, how-to's or everyday tools, methods and means.
Part-way through the session I was experiencing a strange thing: extreme emotion and so much varied sensation in my body that was almost too much to manage, all not directly related to what we were talking about. I felt like somethings had fallen away, some parts of me had been rearranged and replaced with clearer, more powerful parts. I was experiencing quantum shift.
A while back, I asked another friend of mine, a holistic nutrition counselor, environmental activist and witch, to help me with a ritual. I wanted to dance again, after 3 years of not dancing professionally, but I wanted to go forward without any baggage I've accumulated over the years from my relationship with dance. It was profound, silly and strange at times; it was relevant and seemed pointless at times. But at the end, I was altered, changed. The baggage I wished to let go is gone. Amazingly gone.
The process and effect of my coaching session are so similar to my witchy ritual. There is great power in speaking what we most want to walk into, what needs to be left behind in order to do so. And the result is an irrevocable shift, both Newtonian and Quantum.
The second thing I got from wondercoach came clear as he explained his process around value: illicit what the person you are relating to WANTS MOST, what has MOST VALUE TO THEM; then continue to listen to them, ask questions of them and speak to them (this is the important part) AS THOUGH THEY WILL HAVE WHAT THEY WANT MOST. If your listening and speaking toward the person is in the light of them already being having what they want most, the reality of it exists. They easily walk into it, embody it, create it, see it not only as a possibility, but as an inevitable reality. And the things that come up are then the things that can be looked at and examined to have fall away, as impediments to having what it is you want.
And then I realized this was how he had been relating to me. He was careful to illicit what I wanted most, and spoke and related to me from a place of believing with the utmost clarity that I would have that.
And it was this that created this powerful shift in me.
One thing has always been comforting to me, during the winter months that get increasingly colder and shorter and darker, making me want to crawl inside myself, or bed. On December 21st, the days start getting longer, 2 minutes per day. December 21st itself is the shortest, darkest day of the year; but on this day there is the seed or the beginning of moving toward light and warmth again.
Things were going along swimmingly for me, until a few weeks ago. In fact, it felt very much like I was swimming along, and all of a sudden realized I was surrounded by a thick bunch of jelly-fish. Miles long, miles deep. Everywhere, jelly-fish. And so I froze, knowing that if I moved right, that one would sting me silly; if I moved left, that one would reveal 18 more behind it; if I moved backward, that one would knock me out cold.
The momentum of my life, recent move and all my projects has slowed, and the water is clearing, like silt to the bottom of the pond, revealing some strong, sly demons I was sure had long gone.
I am grateful I have an extraordinary partner to listen, dig deeper, and not run as I cover all aspects of the feminine expression in the span of 20 minutes. He has been extraordinary, and I appreciate the work we've both done to have this kind of support now.
I don't know what to say. From where I sit, it's either breakthrough or breakdown, or both. I know I put all these jelly fish in my own way, I know I created them. But they seem real. And terrifying.
I'll keep you posted.
These are potent words – that somehow help me right now – from Jed McKenna's second book, "Spiritually Incorrect Enlightenment:"
(Although I take the tactic of loving my demons to death, rather than slaying them…)
"To move forward, you must figure out exactly what is obstructing you. Whatever it is, it isn't really there; it has no reality, no substance. It's your own creation, a phantom lurking in the shadows of your mind, a shadow demon. Your obstructions are your demons, and your demons are shadow dwellers. They live and thrive in the half-light of ignorance, so the way to slay a demon is by illuminating it with the full force and power of your focused attention; by looking at it, hard. Banish shadow with light and see for yourself that no obstruction exists, nor ever did. We create our demons and we feed them. To awaken we must slay them. That's really the whole process: Slay one demon, take one step.
Repeat."
Even the darkest day of the year holds within it the seeds of the light and sweet days of summer….
For the last few months and weeks, I've been feeling uncomfortable and scared, almost constantly.
In addition to moving to a new city, maintaining and expanding my client base and website, teaching and writing, I am working on the creation of a dance piece, full-length, with 4-5 other dancers, a set, custom-composed music and video projection to be performed mid-2008.
This is so far on the ambitious side of things, I might even call myself crazy.
Yesterday, when I realized for how long my discomfort and fright had been going on, I began to think, "LiYana, this is madness! Why do I always do this to myself? Why do I always take on huge, immense, nearly impossible tasks that put me way, way outside my comfort zone? This is not fun! When do I get to feel like things are normal?"
And then the words of a zen meditation teacher of mine come to mind – words that always bring me such relief and mirth at the same time: "The body is not made to be eternal comfortable. Sometimes comfortable, sometimes uncomfortable. Such a worry and a stress always to be searching for comfortable."
And then I also realize that I will never stop setting myself up to create things way outside my comfort zone. And so, it would be good to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. If I choose a life – as I have – where I want to constantly learn, grow, expand, shift and create, I'm going to be uncomfortable and scared a majority of the time.
So, yes, I am still uncomfortable, and still scared… But somehow noticing that I did it on purpose re-frames it not as an indication of something wrong, but actually of something just quite right.
I was trained in a big way to present as if and always if I had my shit together, that I was on top of things; if I'd gone through a hard patch, it was way in the past, and certainly wasn't now. I was just telling a friend tonight how I've relearned over the past couple of years how important it is to come from a human place and share just as much what's not working, the ways I mess up, fall down or forget. I ran into one of these such humbling moments two evenings ago.
I was having dinner with a friend and he was talking about a new relationship he is in and some of the issues with it — mostly to talk about it, but partly to get my thoughts on it all. He said it was hard to hear when she, a single mom of 3, expressed to him at times she gets so overwhelmed, her kids feel to her like an obligation and she isn't even sure if she loves them. It was something he just couldn't understand. I listened and asked a bunch of questions and then started talking a bit about what I thought would make a difference. I started to explain that understanding something doesn't always have to mean agreeing with it. I explained that she could be feeling badly herself and concerned about being judged, but that if she felt she was being perceived as OK and good anyways, it would open up some space and have her feel less defensive and closed about it all. And then I went on to explaining what "finding something right" means – when a little warning light went off in me.
Here I was explaining about finding some thing or someone right, and I had been finding him wrong all night.
I took a breath, paused for a second, and took a moment to really look at him and take him in. I eased up so the voices of criticism could fade and there was more space to see and hear him. I took note of all that I found right and good about him, right here in the now. And then I continued talking.
I felt better immediately and started having a much better time. And from that point, the quality of our conversation shifted, opened up and lightened up. As we were paying the bill, he said, "You know, I've been telling you all the problems I have with her, but there are so many things that are great." And went on to list them.
Finding someone right can be a nice concept, but what does it mean, or how do we actually DO it? On my walk up the hill this Thanksgiving day, I tried to break it down into a few steps to make it a bit easier to practice:
1. Notice you are finding the person or thing "wrong."
2. Interrupt or press pause on the thoughts about the "wrongness."
3. Let them fade into the background, so there is more space, more quiet.
4. Notice what is "right" or "good" already about this person.
Note: Don't pretend that the things you found "wrong" are suddenly "right." That's just bullshitting yourself. Authentically and genuinely, notice what is "good" and "right" about this person or thing, right here, right now.
Another note: Something quite profound can happen in this space, which is a space with an ABSENCE of judgment: you can see even the thing/quality/person you found "wrong" a moment ago, now simply just to be SO. When you see the "wrongness" without the judgment of "wrong" it can simply just BE AS IT IS. And suddenly isn't so wrong after all. And then there is space for all that is right to emerge.
That's it. This is the beautiful simplicity of finding something or someone right. And from this starting point, hearts open, connections are made, humanity is shared, conversations blossom, and both people have a better time.
Try it and let me know how it goes.
An extraordinary lesson for all of us, from a friend and mentor across the seas:
On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.
He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.
By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.
But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap – it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage – to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.
The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.
Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible t o play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.
You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before. When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.
He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said – not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone -
"You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."
What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life – not just for artists but for all of us. Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.
So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.
This month of giving thanks (at least in the USA), a lot is brewing – the magic of gratitude and praise. It is impossible to be miserable, or focused on some aspect of ourself that is miserable, when we are in gratitude, or in praise.
I realized my parents were my first example of extraordinary relationship, in two ways:
They taught me to trust that I would have deep, clear knowing of love. When I asked how they knew they wanted to be together (after a previous divorce each), they both said, "I just knew."
They showed me you can arrange a relationship any way you wish, so as to have it be an expression of the people in it. After the kids moved out, they moved into separate places, one mile down the road from each other. They are still very much
together, but have different living and working spaces. They also share meals and go over for movies and sleep-overs at the other's house.
After a recent tele-class I taught that my mom and dad were on, my mom wrote me this:
"Thank YOU for making your knowledge and skill available to us. Dad is very excited about what he learned. And already we have put some things into practice and it really works; less frustration and more understanding of one another and some great breakthroughs. We both have more openness to communicating. So thank you again."
Praise from the very people who were my first example of extraordinary relationship.
So to extend some of that praise back to our parents, check out this excerpt from David Deida's recent book, "Instant Enlightenment: Fast, Deep, and Sexy":
"Imagine praising the next person you see. Praise him or her as fully as possible, so you are embarrassed you are so praiseful. What praise would you give? Picture someone you know – anyone – and feel what is the most magnanimous praise you can offer them.
Remember your mother and father as you offer this praise. Imagine doing so now. How do you feel? You have probably chosen a career and sought an intimate partner in reaction to the praise you never got from your parents. Take time to remember what you didn't get from your mother and father, and look at what you seek through your career and intimate relationship.
What do you wish your parents had told you more? Really feel into your childhood. Feel, as a child, what your parents said or didn't say to you. What do you wish your parents had given you more of? What do you wish your parents had said to you?
To the next person you see, silently give the praise you didn't get enough of from your parents but wish you had. Give this praise silently to everyone you see for the next three days. In your imagination, give this praise silently to your parents, right now. How does it feel to offer the praise you never got, but wished you had?
Holding back praise limits all the love you are willing to give – through speech, sex, and touch. It also restrains the love you could offer through your life's work.
Give the praise that you wish your parents had given you more of. Give it silently to everyone, and give it out loud to your lover, whether you feel they deserve it or not. Find out what happens when you do. Discover the full offering you were born to give, as a gift, to everyone."
There are times where I am so focused on how much I thoroughly suck, or how much I loathe myself top to bottom, nothing else seems clear or possible.
One of these times was a few weeks ago, and there at the bottom of this deep pit of pity, the teacher I was working with said something very simple,
"But beneath all that, you think you are pretty great."
And she was right! Deeper and more constant than the very real-seeming complex mess of confusion, self-doubt and self-loathing is the clear bell-like tone of joyful, undeniable, simple self-appreciation.
But was this universal? This past week, I tried it out on my clients: in the midst of working out some very real-seeming, complex mess of confusion, self-doubt and self-loathing I asked, "Is there also the possibility that under all that you actually think you are pretty great?"
And the same pause that I experienced, and the same simple, clear bell-like tone of joyful, undeniable self-appreciation bubbled up.
One clear, gentle but fierce, way back to Center.
And this morning, getting up at 7am to pee, the pink and plump morning air over the view from my bathroom, bathing the valley, hills and houses, reminding me the world is a gift, always waiting to give itself to us.
What's the second way back to Center? Sweet, clear, joyful nature, guiding us back to our Nature.
This came to me via email, but since I vow not to send these types of things along and clutter up your email boxes more than they already are, I am posting it here on my blog:
Attitude
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in
the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today?"
So she did
and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror
and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
"H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today?"
So she did
and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed
that she had only one hair on her head.
"Well," she said, "today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
So she did
and she had a fun, fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed
that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
"YEA!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"
Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting
some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly…….
Leave the rest to God(ess)
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass…
It's about learning to dance in the rain.
I'm feeling very uninspired to write a scintillating, enertaining, meaningful blog entry this week, so I am instead including a fantastically irreverent article from the most reliable news source around, The Onion!
I'm In An Open Relationship With The Lord
By Bonnie Nordstrum, Polytheist
With Jesus as my personal Savior, I felt like I had it all. But then we hit a rough patch, and before long, I was beginning to question both my faith in Him and His commitment to me. At one point, it seemed the relationship was doomed. But I did a lot of soul searching, and together we found a solution that fit both of our needs by adopting an alternative theological lifestyle.
Now that I'm in an open relationship with the Lord, I feel a greater spiritual satisfaction than I've ever known.
It all started when I was 16 and first asked Jesus to enter my heart. It was incredible. He filled me up with His love. I'd never been redeemed before, but with Jesus it felt so right, as if the sins of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. For a while there, we were communing via the sacraments several times a week! And every night we spent what seemed like hours in long, mutually satisfying sessions of prayer. I worshipped Him.
Soon the honeymoon period ended, however. Whenever I spoke to Him, He seemed distracted and distant—sometimes I wondered if He was listening at all. Daily devotionals felt like we were just going through the motions of repetitive, meaningless dogma. A few months later, I made a potentially disastrous discovery: I found out I wasn't the only one He was sanctifying.
One day, I overheard my coworker Sally talking on the phone about how much God had helped her through her recent divorce. She said she "saw the light" after just one night with Him. At first I kept thinking, "Is she talking about the same Savior?" The next Sunday, I followed her to an unfamiliar church on the edge of town and just sat in my car for a while in disbelief. I finally walked up to the front door, but before I could open it, I heard the unmistakable sounds of ecstatic praise coming from inside. There was no denying it. I'd caught Sally red-handed, making a joyful noise unto my own special Lord.
I was devastated. How could He do this to me? Here I had let Him into my soul in the most intimate way possible, and He had betrayed our personal bond by accepting the thanks and adulation of Sally, and God knows how many others as well. I was humiliated I ever let Him wash my soul in His blood in the first place.
But I began to realize that He wasn't the only one who needed more. Hadn't I been growing tired of reciting the same old liturgy week after week? So I steeled myself with a stiff drink of communion wine, opened up my Bible, and confronted Him. In His divinely inspired scriptures, I learned that I hadn't driven Him to seek out others. He just needed to redeem as many sinners as He could to fulfill His destiny as Messiah. It was part of who He was.
If He could forgive me all of my trespasses, shouldn't I do the same for Him? He saved my soul, and now it was up to me to save the relationship. I decided then and there to start experimenting outside the boundaries of traditional monotheistic worship.
To be honest, I'd been flirting with polytheism all along by accepting the doctrine of the Trinity and simultaneously worshipping the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. If I could see all three of them as viable deities, why not others? I took it slow at first. I'd always been a strict Protestant, but I started practicing some Catholicism on the side. Before long, I was meditating on the Buddha. I felt serenity coursing through my body like never before!
The Lord my God is a jealous God, and He didn't like the idea at first. He made it very clear that I should take no God before Him—but he never mentioned anything about taking one after Him! And now that I've opened myself up to exciting new spiritual experiences, our bond is stronger than ever.
I've gone to Native American drum circles, New Age channeling workshops, and Shinto temples. I hung a mezuzah over my door, and last summer I made a pilgrimage to Mecca. I even spent a weekend in a no-holds-barred, worship free-for-all with two dozen Hindu gods!
See, we have an understanding: He can save any sinner He wants, and I can worship any deity I want. But we are still together. Some may think it's strange, but I'm no longer worried about other people's unenlightened moralizing. My spiritual life is better then ever! I love God—heck, I love all of them—and I am one deeply, deeply fulfilled woman.
http://www.theonion.com/content/opinion/im_in_an_open_relationship_with
I was hit over the head (no, not literally!) last week by the power of Acknowledgment.
First, a dear friend emailed this to me:
"speak to me a bit on the subject of Acknowledgment. i'm curious about this tonight. it's power. how delicious it makes things to receive it and give it. you are really great at acknowledging and it feels so f**king good. it feels so good to know when a gift, an expression of tenderness is received. it's not even a matter of whether you liked it or not, or approved, but rather, that you acknowledged it and gave a little shout out. that it touched you in some way. i love that! it makes relating with you so much fun and i feel even more open to sharing my heart and my creativity with you."
Second, I was moderating a panel discussion on my Ask-A-Woman Tele-Class, and was dismayed at how few participants were asking questions of the panel of expert women. Then Regena (aka Mama Gena) piped up and said something like, "If you are just listening, or thinking perhaps of asking a question – wherever you are with it – it is just perfect. It takes a lot of courage just to be on this call, and the fact that you are here at all is a testament to the fact that you want more love, delight, pleasure and connection in your life. It's great to have you on the call."
And sure enough, right then, participants started asking questions and the Tele-Class flowed like honey. They felt appreciated, acknowledged and safe to open up and share some of what was going on for them. Never mind that I didn't say it first (Regena is the Queen of Pleasure and a great teacher of mine, after all!) – hats off once again to the simple power of Acknowledgment.
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