I had almost completely forgotten about this project. A year and a half ago I submitted some of my journals to Stampington. They got in touch with me and asked me to write an article to go with some of my pages.
What a nice surprise to see it finally published. And a lovely reminder when I struggle with my current writing project... I am not TRYING to be a writer... I already AM a writer.
Namaste,
C H E Z
Once upon a time... a long, long time ago...
there was a period in my life when I started having intense and frequent intuitive revelations and premonitions.
Our spiritual senses; clairvoyance, clairsentience, telepathy, etc... are natural gifts that we all have, but we forsake them and let them atrophy because we let our physical senses wear the pants during our living experience.
So although "psychic" phenomena wasn't really new to me, my abilities became so dominant in my life that it kind of scared me. I didn't have names for what was happening... I didn't have control. I couldn't turn it off or on. It would blindside me at inconvenient times.
Rather than seek out a psychiatrist ~ who would have medicated me and suppressed these valid skills ~ I decide to attend some classes to understand and direct it for myself. If you ever watch Psychic Kids and A&E, they do this for youngsters who are "out of control" psychics.
The classes I attended taught many tools for centering and owning your beingness in life. They offered a safe place to explore these abilities... to let them out of the closet and play.
One of these tools was called "Being in Amusement"... and I am amused when I confess I had forgotten all about this tool until very recently.
I have gotten sooooooo caught up in being serious! All of my life has been serious business that must be brought under control and managed. Seriousness is a heavy energy. It is like being cloaked in a fog... with an ominous fog horn sounding in the background. With seriousness comes worry, fretting, effort, rigidity, and overall "poopiness".
"Being in Amusement" is a Zen Buddhist / Sufi way of living your life. Zen and Sufism use humor and laughter in viewing and dealing with the human situation and themselves. As Thomas Moore points out in his book "Dark Nights of the Soul," Zen Buddhists and Sufis can see irony in the most serious situations and their laughter frees their compassion and liberates them from worry.
As I look at some of the heavy situations that dance around me, I am looking through the dark glass, lightly. "Where can I find the irony in this?" "How can a be in amusement as I move through and past it?"
This week I have found some amusement. It has lifted the cloak from around my heart and put a smile on my face.
Namaste,
C H E Z
We are having an epidemic of immaturity in our country. Screw the Swine Flu! We need a collective inoculation of wisdom, compassion and enlightenment, STAT!
I have been exposed to the infected in staggering numbers this week.
It has been as minor as middle age adults trying to dress and behave like they are back in high school. This actually does not make them look any younger. The gray hair, wrinkles, and pot bellies are actually accentuated when you dress age inappropriately. It is painful to see and I am embarrassed for them.
Though prevalent, this is but a small transgression.
I am teaching my daughter how to drive. God bless all parents trying to instruct their children on the proper way to maneuver a 4000 lb hunk of metal through our community.
Sitting shotgun, I have begun to think I really need the said shotgun.
If you cut my daughter off while she is turning into a parking space...
or speed to pass her only to pull in front of her and slam on your breaks then glare at her because she was only exceeding the speed limit by 5 mph, instead of the 20 mph you wanted to speed...
Or honk at her because she stopped at a crosswalk to allow a pedestrian their right of way...
I get to use my shotgun status.
But here is the biggy!
By know we have all witnessed at least one "Facebook Smackdown". This is a Shannanism that I have added to Urban Dictionary. This is the knockdown-drag-out arguments that occur over someone's status updates. Typically occurs when one "friend" misinterprets or takes another "friend's" status personally and begins a comment war for all to see and enjoy.
I have had the un-pleasure of witnessing a Smackdown between my sister and my mother and my aunt... between several of my co-workers... and finally a bullying session between a few 40-something adults against my 15 year old daughter.
Yeah.
I witnessed three, adult parents belittle and attack my daughter on their Facebook status over a second-hand rumor they heard from other kids at her school.
Some of the comments went like this:
"What I really think is weird is disrespectful kids who think they are all that and so good that they can say whatever they want. Someone needs to realize they are not as good as they think and in fact - they are the weird one."
"Don't be to hard on whoever is making comments they can't help it if they are immature."
Then one adult goes to my daughter's page and copies, then mimics, her status about having a great time at a football game - Mattea's status in BOLD, lame ass adult, italic:
"I just wanna say, "The day has started off AMAZING and MAGICAL and has continued to be SPECTACULAR... because I rock and I'm a legend in my own mind...BLAH BLAH BLAH....BARF!! Gag me with a spoon."
I might add that the adults in this Smackdown against a 15 year old, call themselves devout Christians...
Don't worry. I stepped in.
We all have been seeing the teen suicide epidemic in recent weeks over online and school bullying. And maybe you have been wondering why these young teenagers are hanging themselves from their neighborhood trees and jumping off bridges. It is because their peers... and maybe even adults... are cruel, predatory bullys.
It might not be because the child is homosexual. It might be because they aren't like other people... maybe they are smart, or pretty, or talented, or something the bully isn't and the bully has to bring that person's esteem down so the bully can feel good about themselves.
We can try to console our youth with the trite "sticks and stones" cliche. But a teenager's esteem is in a fragile state of development, and thinking that "words can never hurt them" is so very, VERY wrong.
Words do hurt.
We take them in... we question whether or not they are true... we repeat them over and over in our heads... and if we decide we believe them, they have life-long, and sometimes life-ending, ramifications.
When are we all going to GROW UP and start being NICE!?
How are our children going to learn how to be wise, loving and compassionate human beings if we don't start BEING THE EXAMPLE!!! ???
Namaste,
C H E Z
I am craving good times, with good friends...
here are some notes on a new meditation technique I am practicing...
I liked this list of "25 Things Every Woman Should Know" that I found in Elle and decided to save it forever and add some of my own.
My favorites: #9, #12, #24
and my own: "Trust in your faith and remember who you are."
I have been craving living water as much as I do air to breath...
I have been reading Keats...
and Oscar Wilde...
I have so much to say, but don't have the language to say it.
So I lay it all down in you,
in paint and in glue.
In symbols only my soul understands...
and ideas that I don't want to forget.
Namaste,
C H E Z
"In some Greek dramas, a god showed up out of nowhere to cause a miraculous twist at a crucial point in the tale. This divine intrusion was referred to as theos ek mechanes, literally "god from a machine," because the symbolic figure of the god was lowered onto the stage by a crane. In modern usage, the term is Latin ~ deus ex machina ~ and refers to a story in which a sudden event brings about a resolution to a problem."
Rob Brezsny
"PRONOIA is the antidote for paranoia - How The Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You With Blessings"
I found this little nugget during my morning hunt for inspiration while the coffee was brewing. It reminded me that I need to leave room on my stage for God to drop down from a crane.
Can I get a little drumroll with my divine intervention?
Namaste,
C H E Z
It seems that ever since I made a commitment to serving my highest purpose, I have been walking the path of Job.
For my non-religious, non-Bible readers... Job was a very devout and pious man.
Apparently, once upon a long, long time ago, the "sons of God" and "the adversary" had a pow-wow with God, during which, God asks Satan what he thinks of his man, Job. Why God cares for Satan's opinion is beyond me... but...
Satan, being the tell-it-like-he-sees-it kind of entity, tells God that Job is only committed because God favors him, shines on him, puts a wall around him and blesses him. Satan, who you have to admire for his balls to say what he says to the Almighty, tells God that if he messes with Jobs "possessions", Job will turn on God and curse him.
God takes the bet and allows Satan to start f-ing with Job's life. While I can't wrap my noggin around God being the gambling type, that's what the Good Book describes.
Satan has a hey-day! He kills off ALL of Job's offspring ~ 7 sons, 3 daughters and whatever grandchildren ~ in a terrible, Katrina-like wind. Satan is also allowed to afflict Job with horrific boils. Job never curses God. In fact, he says even more pious things like, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away" and "Shall we receive all the good from God and not any of the evil?"
I have made a type of holy vow in my life; to walk a path of integrity, wisdom and authenticity, to be human yet more divine, to live in this particular dimension, but to be open and explore the multiverse.
I made this vow to my God... and it seems like nothing has gone right since.
Job did not waver in his convictions until the end.
And in the end, his wavering wasn't cursing God or blaming him...
it was questioning him.
Turns out, God doesn't like it too much when people question him. He, being ultimate creator and all, evidently knows what's best for his creation.
Well, ALL I have been doing is questioning.
Did I do-eth something wrong? Am I being punished? Did God make-eth another wager with the devil and is he allowing-eth him to "f"-eth with me?
Why me?
Now what?
WTF?
Really?
As I lay me down to sleep last night, in that soft, fuzzy, alpha space before the theta took hold, I had an epiphany.
I had the idea that this story as a parable... the realm of God being heaven; our higher purposes and divine endeavors and the realm of "the adversary" being terra firma; our material goals, desires and "possessions".
Then I thought of Jesus' maxim, "You cannot serve both God and mammon."
It startled me wide awake.
I cannot serve the heavenly realms and still be a slave to earthly matters.
I made a conscious decision to evolve; to move from a matter/mind-based existence into soul/spirit-based existence. I am attempting to transcend - blend one realm into another. Both are vying for my attention and devotion. This world of matter bombards me with crises. I feel like all the structures of my life are crumbling to dust.
Am I going to hold fast and steady to my conscious evolution or lose my focus and allow my energy to be imprisoned in the mundane?
Which am I here to serve?
Maybe God (or whatever it is we hold as our Creator/Supreme Spirit) really does know best.
Maybe my life needs completely uprooted and renovated so that the outer appearances (my house, my work, my relationships, my business) match my inner transformation.
Jesus continues his Sermon on the Mount throughout the rest of Matthew, Chapter 6. His advice is: let God be God. Let him handle all the details. Stop being anxious. Seek first the Kingdom, and all the other things fall into place.
And my favorite, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Each day's own evil is sufficient."
Namaste,
C H E Z
Afterthought:
I hope, my dear readers, that you know that my messages do not come from some lofty space, aiming to preach. I write from the trenches, embedded in the darker battles of my soul, trying to work the goodness out for myself.
Oh sure....we get our nails done.
Fancy fingers and dazzling toes.
Our hair did.
Highlights and hues.
$500 purses covered in "C".
7 inch "come fuck me" shoes.
But really?
Who are we fooling?
We are all still working girls under the sheen and gleam.
Some days are too full of have tos.
Make time to do just one simple thing for yourself to express your creativity.
Namaste,
C H E Z
I keep feeling an urge to stop.
I have labeled this slow down, my suppressed energy, as "depression".
I feel like I am dancing a very, very slow dance... like the last dance of the prom... a barely moving sway.
This is not my normal tune. I think of myself as more 80's pop; Erasure, Howard Jones, ABC, and B52's... lots of hip shaking and the Carlton goin' on.
This current tempo feels off to me. I automatically judge it as "something is wrong" and have been trying to push myself out of it. I am trying to boogie to a drone.
The syncopation makes me feel even worse.
We expect the ebbs and flows of our lives to be coordinated. We try to force the ebbs into our schedule. Why can't I feel slow and melancholy on a Sunday? And really... I can only afford to give that feeling about 10 minutes, cause I have a lot of shit to do and some goals to achieve.
God laughs.
"To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose."
The sun rises and then sets. Tides are high and low. The moon waxes and wanes. Seeds sprout, bear fruit, then wither. The Universe has its own cadence.
If I fall into time with the Universe, allowing myself the inhale... a long, deep breath... maybe it is all just fine.
The Greeks had two words for time. Chronos, chronological, sequential time... and kairos, the supreme moment, an undetermined period of time in which something special happens, a time of destiny.
If I am always trying to tap and jig, I could be missing out on the turning point of my destiny.
This could be my special moment.
I do not have to DO anything. In fact, anything I do in this moment may screw up the symphony.
I can slow down.
Better yet, I CAN stop.
And that could be just what the Universe ordered.
Namaste,
C H E Z
I had this dream.
It lasted all night.
I was creating image transfers;
finding images of families, of couples, of dancers, of beautiful people. Some of them were in settings of nature, some at parties, some alone and thoughtful.
I layered them with my brush of gel medium.
One coat.
Another.
Then another.
Until they were frozen in that time and place.
Then I bathed them in a pool of warm water, loosening them from the setting that they had grown comfortable in.
I methodically peeled the setting away from my chosen one.
I trimmed away the remnants of that other place, sometimes removing the people they had been with, then I lay them in a new setting... maybe alone, maybe with new people.
In my dream, I did this over and over, taking my subjects from one life and placing them in another. Did I think the life I created for them was better? Did I ask if they minded?
One of the images before me was a movie. The people were speaking to each other. It wasn't a happy conversation, some kind of dissatisfaction and dissonance. But the woman was beautiful in her anger... powerful... she deserved a better place, one with more harmony.
I layered her with my brush of gel medium. She was like a fly caught in a web. Once captured, I bathed her in my warm pool and extricated her from the discord.
"Where are you taking me," she asked.
"To a better place," I replied.
"But I wasn't done with that other place yet."
Good thing it was only a dream...
...
Namaste,
C H E Z
Recent Comments