Soul Whisperers

It was back in the mid-90s that I remember seeing a PBS special on the Horse Whisperer for the first time.  With my connection to animals, this struck me as nothing short of profound. The idea of training a horse through working with its own natural born communications of body language and manners, without the use of unnecessary force in breaking the animal's spirit? Holy crap!  This struck me as so profound that the next morning I woke up sobbing.  I mean, I didn't wake up, start thinking about it, and then cry.  I woke up with my pillow already soaked with tears I'd been crying in my sleep, that were still free flowing from my eyes for all the horses over all the years that had been brutalized for no reason. There was a better way -- A more harmonious way for a more mutually beneficial outcome for both species.

This has been playing in my mind a lot recently as I've finally extricated myself from a situation that was beginning to break my spirit.  I find that the old fear-programming and the puritan standards at the basis of our society are really hard habits to break, and despite years spent releasing such patterns, I find I'm still susceptible to being seduced by them.  It's easy to mistake fears for safety, knowledge for wisdom, and pain for growth.  ...No pain, no gain.  ...Life is a battle/struggle.  ...Fighting the good fight. ...Nothing comes easy.  ...What ev-ver!

Even in some Spiritual circles it seems to be all about fighting the ego, or as I heard one person put it, "Every day you have to battle your demons, and wrestle them to the ground!"  It makes me start to wonder --when on your spiritual path are you suppose to get time for peace, harmony, and love with all that fighting going on?  No wonder everyone is so tired!  We seem to be taught to struggle against anything and everything that stands against us, to choose sides, and to go down fighting, but in my mind all that does is breed more separation. In that scenario there is no room for wholeness.  Granted there are challenges and tensions, some painful, that are natural and necessary for growth and strength building, but those are in harmony with our path not against it.  That is the adventure, the unknown, the fun part of learning, growing, and expanding.  And if you truly trust that everything is one, and that everything happens for a reason, then everything that happens -- seemingly good or bad -- is there to bring you to your highest growth. At least that's how I see it.

When you're fighting something for the sake of fighting something, you are actually creating what you are fighting against.  When you are fighting demons all the time, you are actually creating those demons.  Just speaking from my experience, the demons I deal with are things such as feelings of inadequacy, low self worth, and such.  The thing is, these don't exist.  They are not solid, self-propagating entities.  They are the absence of something else.  And to take this further, they are not even the absence of something -- They are the perceived absence of something.  They are illusions!  The strength and confidence I have gained in just the past few years has always been inside me.  I just wasn't in touch with it and just needed to learn to bring it out.  And how did I learn to do that?  By focusing on the things that made me feel whole and joyful, strong and confident.  Inadequacy and low self worth are none entities, but if I focused on my inadequacy, I would be validating it and making solid something that is just an idea, making it stronger and giving it power over me. I would be feeding it my power and in that way, dis-empowering my self.  I have been learning that when my 'demons' pop up, they are actually there for a good reason, so instead of fighting and wrestling them, I invite them in for a cup of tea to see what they have to say...

And so I have decided for myself that I will no longer accept for myself that regimented, militaristic, tearing-down-the-ego-so-you-can-rebuild-the-person mentality when it comes to learning.  I will no longer accept as wiser than me those who, as I heard one person bragging, "Find people's buttons and then keep pushing them until they realize there's nothing there."  And I will no longer accept opinions and judgements guised as "the Truth."  You know, those movies where someone is under a spell to only speak the truth and then they tell some one they're ugly?  "Ugly" is not a truth -- It is a judgement and an opinion. 

It is time to stop breaking, and to start building spirits.  There is a better way -- working with spirits in their own language in order to empower them. Nurturing spirits rather than breaking them is much more productive, and strengthens everyone.  That is my goal in dealing with people, particularly when doing readings, or reiki, or whatever.  I would rather be surrounded by, and become myself, a Soul Whisperer.

Pssssst!!...

Cliff Notes

I have had a lot going on lately -- in the past months and the past days. It has been kind of a long process, another of those death/rebirth cycles, and I'm almost embarrassed at how whiny my blog has become, when I've written at all, while dealing with these things. Like I told a friend recently, "I don't know why anyone who is reading my blog would want to start on a spiritual path if I'm the example."  She replied that it's good because it's realistic and shows that the spiritual path is work too. Thank you!

Still, things came to a head this past week and I have felt a definite shift, as the clouds start to clear, even amidst new swirling storms of emotions and thoughts.  Through it all, and what keeps me going through the hardest of it, even when I feel like giving up, are a few basic things I truly -- to my deepest core-- believe to be true.

A friend recently started a list, inspired by a mutual friend of ours, which she calls her "Amnesia List."  It is a list of things she tends to forget when she is feeling scattered or fearful.  And the process of learning really is a process of remembering who we are, remembering what is true -- peeling away the layers of the onion, the untruths, rather than piling on new layers of structure and learning.

So I call these my "Cliff Notes."  These are the things I want to remember.  These are my notes to myself for when I'm hanging off the cliff and my doom seems inevitable.  On a side note -- I've mentioned before how Artemis, my Matron Goddess, has talked to me about becoming the 'eye of the storm.' I think that these are the key to that as well...

We/Everything is one, literally.  It is all energy.  There is no separation.  "Whatever it is, it is God."

Everything, including me, is perfect the way it is, right this moment. There are no accidents. There is purpose in everything, and the Universe conspires for my highest good.

I am always in the right place at the right time. I can not take a wrong step or go in the wrong direction.  The Universe always steers me toward Home.

Even in this moment I am whole.  Nothing can threaten who and what I am.

"The Universe is Safe, Friendly, and Abundant."

Love is all there is.

Personal Angels

It's been one of those days.  I am very tired from staying up too late last night (admittedly with a bit of a sugar hang-over from a post midnight bowl of Cap'n Crunch).  I try to reassure myself that it's alright because, the reason I was up that late was that I was working on an art project -- A drawing for a friend of her power animals as an exchange for the best massages I've ever had. Still it becomes a vicious circle -- waking up tired and anxious because of lack of sleep so not being in top form for a job that drains me and reinforces a dis empowering attitude so that when I get home it takes me til almost bedtime to get my second wind to begin my various art projects meaning I go to bed late...

I have no big revelation or anything.  Just stating the way things are at the moment.  But as I was getting the weight on one of the boxes at work it came up as 22.44 lbs. The number struck me and I snuck onto the Internet to see what that means according to the Angel Numbers (a system of getting messages from your guides and angels by noticing what number combinations appear around you).  It basically said, "You are not alone. Help is available to you any time you ask."  I'd been asking all morning, but redoubles my efforts, asking for help in the short term to get out of this funk, and in the long term to break this chain of spinning my tires.

Then, exactly as I was punching out for lunch, a good friend who I hadn't heard from for awhile called me out of the blue. As soon as we finished our conversation, one and then another friend began texting me. All three interactions were with people who are nothing but supportive of me, and though I didn't really talk much about what I was feeling, I felt much better afterwards, my prayers for help answered just by the presence in my day of these personal angels.

Yes Virginia, There Is A Robin Hood

So something has been bothering me since the weekend and I thought I'd try to work it out here.

It probably comes as no surprise that I belong to a Robin Hood mailing list on the Internet. There isn't a lot of activity on it, but every once in a while there will be a buzz of messages back and forth, when there's been some development like a new manuscript discovered or a new theory on Robin's true identity, or someone has a question about archery, etc, or they've just  released another Robin Hood DVD.  It's fun to listen to the excitement, but I don't usually take part, not really having anything to contribute (other than being able to turn on a few people, who were interested in archery/medieval things, to the SCA) but this past Saturday I felt very strongly compelled to say something.

Someone, so it appears to me, decided it was the perfect forum by which to pontificate his idea on the reality v.s. the myth of Robin Hood. Fine and dandy, and potentially very interesting. But the reason I use the word 'pontificate' is that along with his "theories", he threw in wide-ranging generalizations, assumptions, and judgements disguised as intellectual facts. Actually come to think of it, 'pontificate' is actually kind of an ironic term in this case since this man identified himself as Atheist.

I actually have nothing against Atheism, and in reality have quite a respect for the Atheists I have encountered, realizing the growth it takes to instill in one's self a sense of morality without the looming presence of punishment or reward. And the Atheists I've seen tend to be very spiritual in their way and, interestingly enough, hold a lot in common with my own personal beliefs. One of my favorite authors, Douglas Adams, was in fact an Atheist, and I find A LOT of spiritual wisdom in his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  So this is not an issue of beliefs but rather the manner in which beliefs are presented.

As I read what this man had to say, I felt my hackles rise just slightly when he stated something about how no one ever really believed in the rituals and Greek myths, and that, for example, "On some Greek Islands there are hill formations that can look like 'The Sleeping Zeus' but I do not think that at any stage of history grown-ups looked at the mountain and thought that they had better move their goats in case Zeus turned over in his sleep." Fine. Speaking for an entire ancient population with the arrogant and ego-centric assumptions that their world view would be exactly like his own. Hackles raised in disagreement, Arrogance and its usually accompanying Ignorance, being probably my biggest pet peeve along with Cynicism (like that's gonna help!), but not worth the energy to say anything. I disagree, but he has a right to his opinions.

Then he wrote this: "How much pagan ritual was there ever was in reality? We have found a few shrines and some deluded people today think they are getting in touch with the Goddess or whatever." Admittedly hackles went up a little further, but at the same time I did not want to get into a war of words, or even a debate over who is right or wrong in such situations. Like I said, he has a right to his opinion, even if it is that I, for one, am deluded.  Though I admit being a tad angry at this man's ignorance and arrogance, I needed to allow myself those feelings, then decide what, if anything, I would do about it. Because this pushed my buttons it was a huge learning opportunity for me.  How could I respond in a manner that would be honorable, respectful, and a win/win?

Realizing it was not my job to change any one's opinion, or enlighten them, I decided that what intruded on my sense of well-being was the lack of respect and open-mindedness toward my beliefs.  This I could speak up for, and not in a way that would make him wrong -- I guess giving him the benefit of the doubt that I wasn't receiving from him. So I answered his emails with this: "I understand what you are saying and respect your point of view but would please ask caution in your statements, and realize who your audience is, because I am one of those deluded Pagans who gets in touch with the Goddess."

I am still concerned that perhaps that was not the most enlightened response, but hoped it might at least make him aware that he couldn't assume, as he seemed to be, that everyone on the mailing list had the same point of view. I also had to make sure I was writing from a place of power, realizing that my sense of wholeness and worth were not dependent on receiving his respect.   

I don't know that I expected a response, but if I did get one, I think I was hoping for an acknowledgement of equally valid view points out there besides his own, and to find out he was more open-minded than he had appeared. That's not what I got.  Instead his response was a challenge for evidence.

Okay. Hackles completely deployed.

Actually it is at this point where my lesson really starts. Even though this attitude miffs me off to no end, I have to let it go. To go any further would be to follow this man down the rabbit hole where I would, in essence, become that which I am railing against. I find many similarities in this to earlier revelations gleaned from the heart of a history of panic attacks where fighting against them, or trying to fix them, only prolongs them or makes them worse. And I have found arguing with or defending against someone so close-minded just feeds them and drains me. Like the bumper sticker says -- "Minds are like parachutes and only work when they are open."

If anything, my path has proven to me that it is in letting go, and approaching things with curiosity and wonder, that true expansion happens. I have a lifetime of evidence for my self that my approach to life brings me ever deeper feelings of wholeness, and in that way, though it is totally subjective and perhaps not admissible as evidence for anyone else, and possibly not even "true" in an empirical way, it has proven useful, and in the end that is what is important. My path and my experiences are complete in themselves with deep heart and meaning for me, and do not require permission or validation of any outside sources. They are my experiences, and therefore beyond contestation. No one can tell me what I did or didn't experience, or what it does or doesn't mean. My beliefs are not up for debate.

*

As I was driving to work this morning, I turned a corner and my breath was taken away at the majestic presence of Mt Rainier towering in the misty distance, glaciers shimmering in the morning sun. "Oh Grandfather Mountain! You are so beautiful!" I shouted out loud. Then I paused, getting a sudden really clear glimpse at the world I personally live in, where a mountain is my Grandfather and my Grandmother is the moon, where I talk to these beings and they talk back, and I smile in gratitude for this richness, and joy, and magick that abounds in my life -- evidently.

*

There is this awesome blog I know of, and I have been trying to find a way to include a particular entry I read there, and this seemed the perfect opportunity. It is written in Middle English, so if you have difficulty understanding it, I suggest reading it out loud because words that look unfamiliar will probably sound familiar. So here in it's entirety is an entry from Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog :

Aye, Virginia, ther ys a Robin Hood

Gentil rederes, the feest of Kalamazu was ful of grete jolitee and wondir, and Ich was daswed by the compaignye of wondirful folk who cam to heare of the book. But the writinge of a booke doth but litel to take awey the dailye necessitees of the clerk of a kinges workes and a husband. Ywis, thogh ther be many volumes on the shelf clad in orange and blak, yet the trasshe taketh ytself nat out. Nor may a vanitee search on worldecat eliminate the need to add up the royal expenditure on the wages of masouns and gardiners. And aske ye nat about the frantic advyce that My Lord the King doth see fit to solicit yn the middel of the night concerninge hys confusioun at the operacioun of hys newe i-diptych. Maye it plese yow to pardon my lack of poostinge! So bisy with muchel labour am Ich, that many thinges of pop culture do passe me by. Ich knowe but litel of the scandal of Lady Zeugma at the recent tournament, or of the gret popularitee of the vuvuzela.

And yet ther are yet sum thinges of which I knowe a tolerable quantitee, and so whanne a smal mayde did wryte an email to my account, the spirit of Philosophie bid me answere. Ich did compose a response, the which must, by yts nature, go out upon this blogge:

Deere Mayster Chaucer,

Ich am but VIII yeeres of age. Sum of my litel freendes seyen that ther ys no Robin Hood. Ywis, thei do saye that ther is no historical record of him. My fadir sayeth that “yif ye see yt on a blog then it ys trewe.” Plese speke the treweth to me on yower blog: is ther a Robin Hood?

-Virginia

Virginia, yower litel freendes aren yn the grip of grete errour. Thei have been bismotered by the over-reliaunce on documentz of a tyme that ys excessifly concerned wyth historical record. Thei yive credence unto no thyng but yif thei see yt in a roll or chartir or heare a twentye minute talke yn a small room wyth questionez aftirwardes. Thei thynk that no thyng can be or hath been save for thos thinges that kan be compassid in their croniclez. Yet all croniclez, whedir thei be of thos folk at gret researche universitees or thos term papirs that childer do wryte, are litel. In the grete duracioun of eternitee, the tyme of man ys but that of a pissemyre, whanne comparisoun ys made bitwene yt and the lastingnesse of the worlde. For as wyse Boece saith of erthely fame: “yif thou wolde make comparisoun to the endles spaces of eternyte, what thyng hastow by whiche thou mayest rejoisen thee of long lastynge of thy name?” (LIBER II PROSA VII).

Aye, Virginia, ther ys a Robin Hood. Robin Hood existeth as seurelye as green hattes, stylishe sworde-pleye, and roguish good lookes existen, and ye know that thei abounden and yive to yower lyf yts gretest plesaunce and joie. By Seynt Loy! How grym wolde the worlde be yif ther were no Robin Hood. It would be as grim as yf there were no Virginiae. Ther wolde be no resistaunce to grasping landholderes then, no consistentlye rhyming balades, no romaunce to reade on a coold night or to pass tyme duringe the daye. We sholde have no deliteful readinge material, oonly lapidaries or yet anothir alliteratif allegorie about being very worryed about dyinge. The ever-lastinge awesomenesse of cuttinge downe a chandelier onto bumbling minions while banteringe wyth a romantic interest wolde be extinguished.

Nat believe yn Robin Hood! Ye maye as wel nat believe in King Arthur! Ye maye peticioun the kyng to hyre sheriffes to watche in all the grene-woode shawes in Engelonde to cacche Robin Hood, but thogh thei sawe nat Robin Hood, who koud then saye “quod erat demonstrandum”? No folk see Robin Hood, but that signifieth nat that ther ys no Robin Hood. The most awesome thinges yn the worlde are those that neither childer nor men kan see with eye. Did ye evir see the wonderful sciapods who lyve in the lande of Inde and have but oon foot, a limb of such greteness that thei can shade their bodyes by putting that foot above them? Of course nat, but that nys no token that thei are nat there. No folk can conceiven or hoold yn their imaginacioun all the wondirs that are unseene and invisible yn the worlde. Except John Mandeville.

Ye maye take apart an astrolabe and undirstond the natur of yts operacioun (and Ich have a smal tretis on that topique ywrit), but ther ys a maner of rough cloth that covereth the good fayre fruit of the world of fayerye, the which nat the gretest historian, nor even the joyned myghte of every historyan that ever did a footnote wryte, kan teare apart (thogh thei be mighty at arm-wrestling). Oonly whimsy, swashbucklinge, poesie, fin amor -- and, certes, shootinge an arrowe so that yt catcheth the sleeve of a hapless corrupt official -- can pusshe asyde the burlap of dailye lyf and disclose the wondirs of beautee and glorie at yts centir. Hath thys a real existence? Ywis, Virginia, in al thys worlde ther beth no thyng that ys to such an extent possessinge of existence.

No Robin Hood! Benedicte! He liveth, and he liveth for ay. Oon thousand yeeres from this daye, Virginia, nay, as many yeeres as an abacus kan count, Robin Hood will continue to make sure that discussioun of medieval governance and taxacioun ys mixed up wyth funnye nick-names and archery.

Up Up And Away!

It was a typically bizarre Mercury Retrograde moment. I know most of the retrograde hype centers around haywire communication and car troubles, but another aspect is suddenly running into someone you haven't seen for a very long time.

So, there I was sitting at the monthly Jeshua meeting with my new lady friend, waiting for things to start when I heard someone call my name. "Patrick, look who I found!" I turned around toward the front door, seeing one of the regulars with a big grin on her face, and coming toward me was a very dear friend whom I hadn't seen in something like a year and a half.

"Oh my god!" I leaped to my feet and practically ran to her, throwing my arms around her and I have no idea how long we hugged. As we finally loosened our grip on each other, I heard someone say, "...You two don't know each other, do you?"

Anyway, after the channeling was done, her and I were able to talk a little more, and she shared something with me that is probably one of the most profound things I have ever heard.

I know I am not the only one who has been confounded by the seeming dichotomy of feeling heavy and down as I am supposedly raising my vibrations on the road to en-light-enment.

My friend told me to imagine myself on an elevator. "How do you feel when the elevator goes up? Heavier?" My jaw hit the floor. "Oh my god!" And my jaw hit the floor a second time. "Holy crap!" Etc, etc, etc...

Suddenly everything fell into place. As Bertie Wooster put it, "The snail was on the wing and the lark on the thorn—or, rather, the other way round—and God was in His heaven and all right with the world." It was so simple! It made so much sense! Holy crap!!

...Please try not to trip over my jaw on your way out...

Swan Mother -- A Creation Story

I thought I had actually posted this to this blog before, but in trying to show it to someone discovered I hadn't. For a number of years now I've been developing my personal mythology. The following is a creation story from that mythology.

irst was, is, Swan Mother. She-Before-All-Else. She was alone, but not lonely, for She was complete in Herself. So complete was She that a feeling began to make itself known to Her from deep inside. A tingling, bubbling feeling. A feeling of love.

Now Swan Mother knows love. One complete in Herself knows all about love, because it is love that makes one complete. A deep abiding love that is the touchstone and ground of all Being. Swan Mother is Love.

But this love was different. This love was growing -- Growing and expanding in such a way that Swan Mother knew it could not be contained. If She did nothing She would burst! So in Her wisdom, Swan Mother gathered Her wings about Her, like a great downy cloak, and in one swift and graceful movement, spread Her vast wings as far as they would reach. In so doing, in this unimaginable expanse from wing-tip to wing-tip, Swan Mother had created Space.

Now this tingling, bubbling, effervescent feeling of love, growing with in Her, had somewhere to go, and go it did! With a tremendous explosion of light and feathers, Swan Mother gave birth to Fire Horse. So filled with His new found joy of freedom was Fire Horse, that He ran and jumped, played and danced throughout the whole of space between Swan Mother's outstretched wings.

The feathers that floated everywhere, shed as a result of His birth, were ignited by Fire Horse's fiery hooves, becoming all the stars that populate the heavens. And, as Fire Horse continued to gallop tirelessly amidst the heat of these new-born suns, He began to perspire, each drop of glistening sweat flung from his body becoming another planet -- Another pregnant salt-water world ready to blossom with life.

And so it was. And so it is. Aho.