Sunday, December 2, 2012
Time
Tonight, I had the pleasure of having friends arrive unexpectedly. I can still feel their smiles and warmth, even though they've gone home. I suppose that is one of the great pleasures of this season; to feel not only the warmth of a furnace or the joy of a gift, but to have time to sit across from a friend knitting and watch what is being created, or sit and listen as another friend makes magic in the kitchen, and just enjoy the time.
That is the warmth and the gift of this season for me, at this moment. Time.
Love and blessings, friends. May you have all the time you need and wish for.
XOXO
Thursday, June 21, 2012
An Ocean Inside of Me
Fortunately for me, a friend who is rather dolphin-like came to the ocean with me. She showed me how to attach the snorkel to my mask so that I wouldn't just suck up sea water, and she let me test-drive her dear husband's flippers. I felt adventurous as I flippered backwards into the ocean, headache and all... I was longing for the cool Atlantic water and hoping it would cool my entire body. I was also looking forward to seeing some things under the water.
Thus began my wrestling match with the ocean.
I entered the water and put my face down, the waves rolling into the beach. I had difficulty breathing through the snorkel at first; mouth breathing is not instinctive, especially with one's face under the water. My mind took a moment to protest - "No! Underwater! No breathing!" and I was momentarily startled by the strength of my instincts. It took a moment to convince my mind that it was okay, that I was volunteering for this process. I began to breathe. In through my mouth, out through my mouth.
A wave rolled over me. I felt tossed, and seawater sloshed into my snorkel. I swallowed it, and quickly found my flippered footing, poking my head above the water. My goggles were foggy, and I couldn't see. I pulled them off of my eyes, snorkel still in my mouth, and felt the salt sting. Another wave crashed over me, and pushed me backwards. I lost my footing in the flippers and bobbed along, uncontrolled. It took a moment, and I finally gained footing again, a bit tossed but in a good mood.
I pulled my goggles down again, took a breath and tried again to snorkel. My initial instincts were quieted faster, and I was able to float along and breathe. This time, I found myself bobbing with the waves. The sand flowed with the water in front of me; all I saw was the green of the ocean with the brilliant silver sparkles of sand in front of me. A bit disoriented, I found myself feeling pushed along by the ocean, up and down, up and down. The rocking began to settle into my stomach and I felt it rocking - up and down, up and down. I tried to find direction and paddle with the flippers, making a little headway. A wave rolled over me and I bobbed out of the water.
Disoriented and a little seasick, I found my footing again, raised my goggles, and looked around. My friend was gracefully exploring the waves, flowing along with the rhythm of the ocean. I rallied myself and recommitted to the process. I wanted to try diving under the waves instead of letting them whack against me.
Diving was a success, for the most part. Though the flippers were unfamiliar, they did help me swim in a unique way, making me feel almost mermaid like. I bobbed along, trying to snorkel with foggy goggles, disoriented by the sand and the green water and the waves but enjoying the cool ocean. As I bobbed along, I realized that I was slightly seasick. I bobbed more, snorkeled more, and swallowed more sea water. Tossed and rolled by the waves, I was having fun, but increasingly getting more seasick.

I finished my day at the beach sitting in the surf, experiencing the waves crash against me while wearing my goggles. Seasick and wobbly, I made my way with my friend back to the car to change clothes and continue on with the evening.
Since yesterday, I feel like I am integrating the ocean inside of me. My stomach wouldn't allow me to eat much at dinner, and even today I have been treading lightly, trying to prevent further upset as the ocean works through me, at a cellular level.
I'm not really sure what it means to have the ocean inside of me, but I do feel like an introduction is happening, that the water in my cells that are made from Midwestern soil, from spaces that were once ancient ocean, is greeting now the ocean that connects the world, the ocean I unwittingly and unintentionally swallowed, the ocean that wrestled me yesterday and introduced me to new and wonderful and powerful aspects of itself.
Much gratitude to the ocean, to the sunny day, to my Dolphin-esque Sea-swimming friend. I learned a lot on a physical, cellular level yesterday. Though I was in a process, I felt safe - I'm a good swimmer, and I could touch the bottom, and though disoriented was aware enough to take care of myself. Even so, I was in a process! I can't wait to swim in the ocean again!!!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
A Reminder of Me
This last weekend, I committed myself to supporting others in their shamanic work. The work will span many months, and this work will progress through many of the elements. This particular weekend we were set to move through the element of fire. I have to say, I wasn't feeling very fiery. I was feeling overwhelmed and a bit stressed because of all the prep work I needed to do and couldn't really wrap my head around for Elder Initiation.
I arrived at the land where the work would be held, and did my check in. There are many sacred spaces on the land. I spent time checking in and greeting many of these spaces, from spaces dedicated to ancestors to a space meant to connect to the earth mother. I was going to finish by checking in with a space dedicated to nature and the spirit of nature, but was instead guided - seemingly by the nature spirit - to take a short walk. The phrase "Go out back first" rang in my head.
On my walk I greeted several more important spaces. I felt the wind blow, the sun shine on my back, and the grass and sticks underfoot. My heart was beginning to lighten and release the stress. I stopped to connect to the earth, and look around. I heard clearly in my head, "Now, what do you see?" I smiled to myself, because around me I had seen all things green and growing and full of life - I looked around to find descriptors for this experience, and immediately turned to see a snake moving through the leaves.
It was as if the snake was the true answer to the question that had been presented to me. "Now, what do you see?" I saw a serpent.
I have seen very few "wild" snakes in my life. While initially unnerved by them, I have found that I enjoy and respect them and I have built a relationship with the spirit of the snake that has been vital to me in my healing work - healing of myself and in my work facilitating work for others. I consider the snake to be a power animal - it has great meaning to me and has visited me and led me on many shamanic journeys. It also has taken on the role of my internal predator - symbolizing the part of me that is my inner destroyer, the piece of me that can sabotage my own healing processes - and in knowing that it is my internal predator it has allowed me to work to overcome self-predation and move into a mode of manifesting and creating.
To turn around at that time, with the voice in my head asking "what do you see?" - it was an amazing experience. I stood and watched the black and gold garter snake for some time as it wove in and out of the leaves, ducking and diving under. I watched it for several minutes - it had a very aware and instructive presence, yet an independent feel to it as well - and as it crawled away I turned and returned to the site on the land dedicated to the spirit of nature.
It was a short experience in time and space. Spiritually, it was a huge confirmation for me. In all the work, in all the stress, it is easy sometimes to loose sight of my goals. But I am my biggest predator, and within me I have the power to manifest and create my destiny. I am grateful for the spirit of nature and for the spirit of the snake - I have been reminded of my own power and strength.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
My New Tattoo
Today I got a new tattoo. It's the first tattoo I've had done since college, and though I knew that I wanted this particular image as a tattoo, I hadn't planned on getting it done today. Even so, my adventurous friend had decided that she wanted to get a tattoo she had been thinking of TODAY, and since I was there and the timing seemed right, I decided to get mine done. I'm really glad I did.
The first tattoo I got in college was the kanji symbol for bear. I knew all of the reasons very concretely for getting the tattoo - my dad called me "Sarah Bear," I loved bears, I felt connected to them as a totem animal, and I loved the story of Artemis and her association with the bear. I decided to get the kanji symbol because I was very heavily participating in martial arts at the time, and the kanji expressed my feeling of respect for and love of the korean and other asian cultures. All of those things - the meaning, the reasons - have stayed firm in my mind for the last many years (5 or 7, maybe?). I love my bear kanji tattoo, and it speaks a lot about me then and me today.
This new tattoo also says a lot. There are a lot of reasons for it - reasons that I am still integrating. Like the first tattoo, I feel like the reasons for getting this tattoo and the meaning of the symbol I have chosen mean a lot for me right now, and will mean a lot for me in the future. While the symbol has deep meaning for me, I find that the process of getting this tattoo today also is taking on meaning. It is different - felt different - is feeling different - then when I got my first tattoo. Both processes were important. But while the first was planned and plotted, this second process, though intentional, was not so scripted.
As I mentioned, my friend decided that today was the day she wanted her tattoo. I knew I wanted my tattoo done, but wasn't sure about the exact form it should manifest as - I knew the symbol I wanted but didn't have a drawing or an image of it to share with the tattoo artist. That it manifested in that way, itself, seemes pretty amazing to me - thorugh attempts at sketching the image and then a search of the internet, I was able to find the image that spoke to me, that represented what I see as an iconic form of the symbol in question. (I'm deliberately not sharing what my tattoo is of.... for now, i'm processing and loving it, just me <3).
Then, just like that, we were off to the tattoo "parlor" - We went to Hobos in Portsmouth, NH. Three guys (at least) were there working - there was a man on the table getting ink on his leg, and I stood behind the counter as my friend went to get her work done. I remember feeling very nervous. I was committed to this, I wanted this tattoo, but it all seeemed so fast. I definitely had the feeling of being in a process of manifestation - that somehow things had lined up today for this to happen. It was not plotted and planned but it was definitely something i feel like I was meant to do today. But it wasn't just about the symbol.
To me, the symbol I chose means a lot - in part because, in one aspect, it is symbolic of healing. I knew from the first thought of this tattoo that it had to go on my chest, underneath my collar bone on the left side, near my shoulder. That is where, exactly, I felt like it should be. I wasn't sure why, but I think part of the location has to do and had to do with what happened today, what I feel is still happening.
The tattoo artist (Tony Sellers - awesome guy) made the transfer and put the disinfectant gel on my skin. Something felt very familiar about it. He pressed with his left hand and provided counter pressure on my back, on the opposite side of my shoulder, with his right. He effectively squeezed my shoulder between his hands. It felt very familiar, and sent me directly to thinking about my shoulder surgery I had several years ago.
I have 2 scars on my left shoulder - one in front and one in back - from a labrum repair i underwent about 3 years ago. It is my understanding that the scars are from where they had to put tools and an arthroscopic camera into my body and the shoulder joint to see and repair my injury. I've seen a you-tube video of this process - there is some force used when inserting the camera.
The thoughts of my shoulder surgery quickly passed. I sat in the seat and leaned back - Tony began to ink my shoulder. It was painful - very painful - I felt like a scalpel was cutting my skin in the pattern of the symbol I had asked to have tattooed on my body. I began to try to breathe - I felt like I needed to breathe very slowly, very deeply - Tony was telling me to breathe. I began to pass out.
Clearly, I wasn't doing that great of a job of breathing. I've gone through the process of passing out 3-4 times now. I hate the process of passing out. It sucks. I'm also so reluctant to loose control of my body that I fight it tooth and nail, so I've never really gotten to the point of fully loosing consciousness. Sometimes i think, in retrospect, "why don't you just fuck it and loose consciousness - it might feel better" - but something in my always holds on tooth and nail and I can't just let it go. So, instead, I go through the whole process of passing out but never really loose consciousness.
It usually starts with a wiggly feeling in my legs, followed by sweating and a feeling of heat all over my body. Then, I go cold - cold all over, and my ears get echoey and the room gets echoey and my vision tunnels and my head starts to hurt and ring and wobble internally. Usually, on the way back out of the process, I feel like I want to barf. It's all a horrible, horrible feeling. And it happened today, as I was getting my tattoo done, this tattoo related to lots of things but related to healing as well.
I had mentioned to my friend my intention to breathe more - that I wanted help in breathing & grounding - before beginning this process today. As it turns out, it was my lack of breath that put my body into a place where I nearly lost consciousness. But when finishing the tattoo, and then leaving the studio, the thought came to me that I felt like I had a re-birth. A reset. Something bodily had changed, had released, had altered on a molecular level. That the process of passing out was necessary for some reason. I'm not sure of the reason, I just feel like it did something somewhere in my body that was important.
Which is where I think of my shoulder surgery again. When I had my shoulder surgery, they put a nerve block in my neck. It blocked some major nerves to my body. I remember, in recovery, not being able to feel my shoulder but also not being able to speak certain vowel sounds and form certain words for quite some time. I also remember feeling that I was, in some way, drowning, because the nerve block had blocked the nerve to the left side of my diaphragm. Being asthmatic already, it was an unnerving thing. I was worried and scared and in recovery and i couldn't speak the way I wanted to and I couldn't breathe with the entirety of my ability. Back then I knew if felt crappy, and awful, and as I recall I also went through a process similar to the process today... my legs got wiggly... I got hot, and then I got cold, and then I felt like I was going to throw up. It was from the anesthesia, the drugs they had given me. At the time, a Reiki master was working on my post-surgically, and I just couldn't handle the energy and the feeling of it all. It was a horrible, horrible feeling.
Today, I think it was something my body remembered. The feeling of the disinfectant, the squeeze of the tattoo artist as he pressed my shoulder between his hands, the process of passing out, the inability to breathe and regulate my breath, the nausea... though my brain quickly forgot thoughts of my shoulder surgery, my body has obviously not. And while this tattoo has nothing to do with my shoulder surgery, I think the process and the tattoo has everything to do with my shoulder surgery at the same time.
As a believer in the power of somato-emotional release, I am amazed at how the body holds on to and processes input, information, joy, and trauma. My body has often been a silent, ignored ally in my life's work and processes, absorbing and processing and protecting me and storing it all away with my brain just moving on and on and on. Lately, I have come to recognize how much my body takes on - how much past pain can be stored there without my knowing, past trauma that still impacts the way my body operates today. I've worked a lot with a more recent injury to my wrist, with some of the major life pains, but haven't really spent the time to go back and process through the shoulder surgery. I am so grateful for my body, for it's openness and responsive nature, that today it took the opportunity to bring to my attention some things it was holding on to, and to hopefully take that opportunity to reset and release. I am grateful that I have had the ability to connect my body and mind, so that now my body has a greater voice and my mind isn't the only one running the show. I am so grateful for the process of somato-emotional release, that has allowed me to understand me, and how my body is a valued and treasured ally in the walk of my life, and that it truly absorbs so much and that our pain and injuries can be healed and resolved and lessened through the processing and release of these pains and trauma. I am grateful for the teachers and fellow travellers in my life. I am grateful for my amazing physical therapist, who has been an extraordinary guide and facilitator for my brain and body as they merge together and work to become a cohesive working unit.
The body - my body - is not just something I live in - it is a part of me. It is me.
So while I love my new tattoo and I am looking forward to my life with it, I am also so grateful for the healing the process of getting the tatttoo created in my life. It is amazing what the universe creates for us and makes available to us. I'm sure that, in my life with this new tattoo, this new aspect of me that I have hilighted with blood and ink, even more will be expressed and understood. I look forward to the journey and am so grateful for the process that has framed it.
Love and blessings - Namaste.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Copper - Creativity, Ancestry, & Human-ness
Copper is one of the first metals that was worked by humans. Copper has been in use by humans for at least 10,000 years. When I work with copper I feel connected to my ancestors and in touch with a deep, ancient human vibration.
Copper is easy to work with because it is soft; it doesn't require a great deal of equipment or chemical to create something interesting. Today I decided to explore aspects of some plumbing fittings I found at the hardware store. I usually buy copper wire from the hardware store to work with - I make rings and bracelets and pendants. I've been looking forward to playing with fittings in the hopes that I can find a way to use interesting pre-made constructions and alter them into more creative, imaginative forms. It's also easier and less expensive - though copper is relatively inexpensive in general - to work with copper sources provided by local sellers than using mail-order copper.

I started by setting up my materials. In this photo you can see the copper fitting on top of a marble slab that I am using for a heat sync to create a safe place to use the torch (marble absorbs a great deal of heat energy.) Off to the side I set up a container with water to quench the hot metal - I also had a set of pliers ready to handle the metal.
I then began to anneal my copper fitting. Wikipedia describes annealing as "a heat treatment wherein a material is altered, causing changes in its properties such as strength and hardness." During working, the molecules in metal bond and rearrange in a non-uniform pattern. This creates hardness within the metal and also makes the metal brittle if it continues to be worked. A good example of this is moving a wire too much - if it is worked back and forth repeatedly it will break. In annealing, the heat breaks the bonds between the molecules in the metal and arranges those molecules in a uniform pattern. This allows the metal to be worked because the metal is transformed from being stiff and hard to something that is workable. Annealing must be repeated many times during a working process due to the fact that, as the metal is worked the molecules rearrange and the metal begins to get brittle and hard. Metal can be annealed many, many times - perhaps indefinitely.

I began my annealing process with the small BenzOmatic torch in the picture above, but it soon became clear that the copper fitting was too thick to heat evenly with a thin flame. So I broke out the big torch.
Honestly, I'm usually nervous about using the bigger plumbers torch. Really, if directions are followed, there's nothing too dangerous about it. But it's still unnerving to think that I have a flaming can of propane in my hand. It does lead me to be overly careful, which I think is a good thing where fire and gas are concerned. I like the plumbers torch because it heats things up fast!
Because the copper fitting was manufactured it needed to be annealed before I could work on transforming it into something else. So I set the fitting on the marble, moved the smaller torch to a safe distance for use later, and lit the plumbers torch with a striker.
The key to annealing is to heat the metal until it is red-hot. At this point the heat is able to break the bonds between the molecules and the molecules are re-arranged. I used the plumbers torch in a back-and-forth motion and the fitting started to glow red. I prefer to use the torch in dim light so I can see the moment that the metal begins to glow - it's also to interesting to see the colors the flame makes as it burns off impurities in the copper.
After making sure that my fitting had become hot enough to glow, I turned off the torch and set it aside. I picked up the copper fitting with my pliers and quenched it in the vat of water nearby. I love the sound of the metal quenching in the water! What an old and ancient sound!!!
After the metal cooled (which does not take much time at all) I removed it from the water and began to use a rubber mallet to mold the fitting around a metal form that belonged to my grandfather. My grandfather worked with trucks; much of the metal working supplies I inherited from him have to do with working large pieces of metal for truck repair. I have some of the smaller pieces still, though they are old and I am unsure of the names, and I am glad to be able to use those in my artwork.
I followed the steps of annealing, then hammering the fitting over the mold several times. As I mentioned before, it is important to repeat the annealing process so that the metal stays workable.
You can see the results of my work in the photo at the right. The form I was using is at the top left, and the metal fitting I am working with is at the bottom. It is my goal to continue to work with the fitting until the metal is much thinner and the size and shape of the fitting has expanded and been formed into more of a bowl-shape.
As I am right-handed and have limitations since an injury, I found it necessary to take a break from the work after a short while. The next steps will be to anneal the fitting again and return to shaping it, next with a ball peen hammer (with a rounded end) and a small anvil.
I truly enjoy working with copper - as I mentioned before, I feel so tapped in to an ancient, ancestral vibration when I connect with the metal. I would encourage everyone to find a way to connect to the ancient humanity of us all - and I'd bet if you think about it you probably already do, whether hiking well-worn paths, meditating at the ocean, or knitting in front of the wood stove. There is so much we can do to come in contact with our basic human-ness - the human-ness that is connected to the earth, the environment, that works and creates and envisions. The humanity that creates and generates and envisions and imagines amazing things - that partners with the world. The human-ness that is caring and creating and honoring and in alignment with all the spirits we share our existence with.
Truly, today my work was banging on a piece of metal in the basement. But through that work I feel connected to every being in my ancestry that held a hammer, that connected to the amazing things in the world and shared an idea with spirit and somehow brought an idea into fruition. Maybe I'll be able to make a copper bowl out of this - maybe it will just look like a weird, overly-large monopoly hat. Either way, it's the spirit of the thing that matters to me.
I honor you - and myself - and our human-ness, and the connection we have to the world.
Namaste
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Percolation
I've already caught my myself saying - " I'm supposed to be at the shop." But you know what? I'm supposed to be here. I feel it at the core of myself - that right at this very moment I am supposed to be sitting in the waiting room of VIP auto, waiting. Just waiting.
I breathe in, I breathe out, and I'm waiting. More than that, I am here. In my body, in my heart, completely present.
It's different than other times- there have been times where I have cried in the waiting room of auto shops because I didn't know how I was going to afford it.
Every time, I breathe in and out and life goes on. I find the money somehow. I have access to transportation. The world doesn't stop.
Even when things don't work out as planned, something happens. Something.
Its like the auto shop waiting room is a container for evolution. Something happens - usually something stressful. We go in with all of our stressors and fears and hopes, and just have to so sit with it.
We breathe in and out and just have to sit, just have to be fully present with all of our worries and fears and the story of it all and we just wait. What else can we do?
On the other side of it, something else happens and the waiting is over. Then we go on. We take all that we felt, and many times it disappears into the rush of the world as we come back out of waiting to rejoin it. It comes back the next time we experience something like a flat tire or another accident or stressor we really have no control over. Then we meet our authentic self again, when all is peeled away and we are just left to wait with ourselves.
Present. Breathing in and breathing out.
presence, like the space between the tides |
Maybe that's why I'm here. I'm about to go divine for people. I think the big lesson for me is to remember - as someone who works in elemental and ancestral medicine - am I grounded in my work, in who I am? Do I know myself, my shit and my joy, enough that, when working with another human light, I don't mish mash or overwhelm or give away my boundaries. That I can serve from a place of love, giving from the true authentic heart of understanding and fullness that exsists in a grounded place within. Being present so I can do my work.
A good check in, for certain. Ashe.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Thank You, Universe
I've included a picture of an amazing no-legged healer that spent time with me in session facilitated by Serpentessa. I believe this serpent is named Artemis - this beautiful co-creatrix spent the entire session resting with her body on my wrist (my TFCC, which was injured and I am now working to manifest wholeness in) working her magic. A second red-tailed boa spent her time on other energetic and physical centers. This image inspires me to trust in myself as my own healer, and to know that I am not alone on this magnificent journey.
Many blesings.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Made of Stars
Everything in existence is a manifestation of the one living being we call God. Everything is God. And he came to the conclusion that human perception is merely light perceiving light. He also saw that matter is a mirror — everything is a mirror that reflects light and creates images of that light — and the world of illusion, the Dream, is just like smoke which doesn’t allow us to see what we really are. “The real us is pure love, pure light,” he said.
This reading this morning did two things - the reading continued, and as it continued I realized how much it was in alignment with my thoughts on manifestation and the idea of "what we think, we become." It also made me think. It made me think of the universe, and manifestation, and the science of manifestation, and it made me wonder how it all works.
One of the things that I immediately thought of was stoichiometry. According to Wikipedia (all of the science-y information I've included is from Wikipedia, really), stoichiometry "is a branch of chemistry that deals with the relative quantities of reactants and products in chemical reactions." I remember balancing equations in chemistry in high school - it was relaxing and meditative. Now, I think the important thing about the ideas regarding manifestation and why it led to thoughts on stoichiometry is the idea of balance, or relative quantities.
I remembered ionic and covalent bonding. Covalent bonding is chemical bonding where electrons are shared. Ionic bonding is, according to Wikipedia, a "chemical bond formed through an electrostatic attraction between two oppositely charged ions."
attraction - and balance - exists everywhere |
I have heard many times that, as we work on our own stuff, as we succeed and learn to manifest, we change our vibration - we refine ourselves and alter our own chemistry, in a way, or maybe even our own electrical signature... something that changes the way we resonate in the world. Maybe that effects, truly effects, how we "bond" with the universe.
What limited information I have found indicates that the greater the "electronegativity," or how likely an atom is to attract. So if two ions have a large difference in electronegativity, they are more likely to attract eachother. In contrast, electropositivity refers to how likely an atom is to donate, or give itself away.
So what if, since we are made up of atoms and ions and electrical signals and chemicals and all sorts of wonderful stuff... what if, when we do our work, shed that which no longer serves, and change our vibration... what if this truly does altar our ionic structure? What if this increases our electronegativity in comparison with the universe, and makes it more likely that we will attract what we are trying to manifest.
I don't really know if this is what happens... but I know energetics are more concrete than many would think... I know that there are body systems that are not completley understood or even given serious thought by the current medical and research establishment. I know the human body, mind, and spirit, are capeable of amazing things. And so, if we are, and we are 'made of the stars,' then we are made of the same stuff as the universe. And in that way, the energetics of the universe, the energetics of coincidence and deja vu and rainbows and the aurora borealis - all of that is in us, too.
So overall, I think it's definitely something I will think about. How does changing my vibration, my energetic frequency - how does that change my physical self, perhaps even my electonegativity? How does working on my stuff allow me to have a greater attraction to the amazing things in the universe at a cellular, molecular level.
'I am made of light; I am made of stars'
Monday, January 23, 2012
It's All About Perspective
I've been thinking about this quote, attributed to Buddha (Prince Gautama Siddharta), all day. It's a quote that pops into my mind a lot, but many times when I am working to manifest and bring about a better mindset and vibration for myself.
As I was driving home tonight, watching the weird Tron-esque tail-lights of the car in front of me, I began to wonder. Why is this such a big deal? Why does this quote mean so much to me? Why is it so powerful and what frame of mind do I think about it in?
I realized that often, when I begin to think of the statement, "What we think, we become" I am thinking of it as a warning to myself. As in, think better thoughts or else things will get crappy. That mindset. I started to think of the root of it. Why do I approach this thought from the perspective of a warning rather than a blessing?
I know it;s deep in my family; my mom, my uncles, and I have always had that kind of sense of humor. I've even had it, and in a way, it's served us quite well. After all, if you can laugh about something then you don't have to completely fall apart. I've often viewed it as a survival mechanism. For me, utilizing humor is like using a shield in some circumstances. It's a way of protecting myself, of not fully throwing in all of my cards so I always have a way out. Of poking the holes in something so that it doesn't have to be what it is, so I don't have to be hurt or even disappointed.
Over the last few years I've learned that humor can be about so much more. But ingrained in me is this part of me that has a very morbid sense of humor. It's part of my family and part of my lineage. I'm not going to say it's wrong, because it's the way it is and it has brought me some relief, a pressure-valve of sorts, when things have been emotionally too intense to deal with. But lately I've come to realize that, in my efforts to manifest the brilliant possibilities of life, I need to address the part of my humor that is a defense mechanism and an escape that no longer serves.
And that's where I started to think of B.F. Skinner.
B. F. Skinner was a behaviorist. He was a psychologist who developed many theories on behavior. As someone who studied behavior disorders in school, I spent a lot of time learning about B.F.'s theories and how they apply to the classroom environment. Skinner had a way of breaking down behavior so it could be easily seen. (I'm not sure if he's the one who thought of this initially, but either way it grew out of old B.F.'s ideas). Behaviors occur in chains, called ABC chains. For every behavior there is an antecedant (something that causes it), a behavior (the actual behavior in question) and a consequence (what results from the behavior). In the classroom, for example, if we look at the behavior of one student hitting another, we can examine it in terms of a behavior chain. If we can find the antecedant and look at the consequence, we begin to find keys to unlocking the chain of behavior and changing it.
Which is where it gets fun. This is where it also gets more complicated, but not really I guess. The complex things about behavior chains it that they really don't occur in ABC sets - a behavior is never 'just' a behavior but can also be an antecedant or a consequence. So that means behavior occurs in layers of chains rather than just in straight chains. This also means that we have to look at the function, or the reason behind the behavior.
Typically, there are three functions of behavior - escape, access, and intrinsic. Someone wants something, someone wants to get away from something, or it's a part of someone's biology that they really can't change. So basically, according to basic behavior theory, all of human behavior can be broken into ABC behavior chains and classified into one of three functions, or reasons why.
Which is great if you're trying to manage behavior in a classroom, but not so great if you are trying to figure out the why of really crazy things, like low incidence high violence behaviors. Why, for example, does someone suddenly decide to pick up a gun and go shoot someone one day? Skinner and basic behavorial thought really didn't have a great explanation for this... after all, it's hard to establish the parts of the ABC chain if you don't have a baseline because it only happened once.
This is where the idea of the "cognitive filter" comes in. This is the lens through which an individual sees the world. So this, in my chain of thought, is where I started to think of Adrienne Rich.

As a woman I have a country; as a woman I cannot divest myself of that country merely by condemning its government or by saying three times "As a woman my country is the whole world." Tribal loyalties aside, and even if nation-states are now just pretexts used by multinational conglomerates serve their interests, I need to understand how a place on the map is also a place in history within which as a woman, a Jew, a lesbian, a feminist I am created and trying to create.
Our 'location' influences how we see the world. This 'location' impacts and is part of our cognitive filter, our lens with which we interpret and disseminate information; how we interact with the world. This cognitive filter impacts how we behave.\Life is not just a series of ABC events but a very complex, mushy conglomeration of thought and feeling and event and emotion. It's beautiful.
So what does this have to do with the macabe humor of my family, or more importantly what I need to shed that no longer serves? I don't want to let go of my roots - I do enjoy laughing with my mom and friends - but I want to shed using humor as a defense mechanism and an escape. More importantly, I want to change my perspective - to work with all these bits and things inside of me, to see things like this quote:
"What we think, we become"
As not a warning but a blessing.
How beautiful to see the world in a way that sees the Buddha's statement as a blessing. What possibilities are opened! What opportunities for manifestation! It's the chance to ride the universal wave! If we are fully commited and fully open to recieving the bounty of the universe, anything is possible. I truly believe that we create our own future - how affirming and amazing to realize that truly, the Buddha is right - what we think, we become. We can manifest our own amazing futures.
I fight my location, my cognitive filter, my every day behavior a lot - but now I've found that I'm fighting less and less and flowing more and more. It takes practice. At first, I didn't notice when my filter changed and I began to think of warnings instead of blessings. Now, with practice, that change in perception often seems like the change in a guitar when it's left too long; it sounds dissonant. Ever so slightly, but I can tell, and I am so blessed now to be able to see it.. to feel and hear it... when things are not as resonant as they can be.
I still need a lot of practice, but the universe provides many opportunities. As a friend so recently told me, it's all in the perspective.
"What we think, we become."
An amazing and wonderful truth.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Emotional Body
Before I go any further, let me say I want to send love and light and peace to his family. It's hard to lose someone you love. I also want to send blessings to Joe on his travels back to the other side of the veil.
Now I want to really touch on why I've been thinking of Joe Paterno. In 2002, a graduate student told Mr. Paterno that he had seen Mr. Sandusky, an employee of Mr. Paterno, assulting a boy in the locker room. A lot of news has touched on this subject, and people are still trying to figure out what happened. One thing is certain, though - Joe knew what was going on, and he didn't communicate it very well. He didn't call the police. He reported it to his superiors, and nothing was ever done about it. So, effectively, Joe swallowed this incident and lived in silence.
I'm not writing to criticize Joe. I'm not really wanting to touch on the tragedy of the abuse or the scandal that followed. What I do want to examine is this: Joe, a man who saw something he never really communicated, lives for at least 8 more years with that knowledge. The story comes out, he is fired from his job, he is diagnosed with lung cancer and dies.
From the shamanic perspective, if there is something that happens with the lungs or throat, it should be asked "What is not being said?" I am a strong, strong believer that there are emotional roots to illness, and I wonder if Mr. Paterno's sudden decline into lung cancer has relation to some of the things he stuffed up in his life.
Now, I can't really say that I know anything about Joe Paterno. Maybe his family has a pre-disposition for cancer. Maybe he was a smoker. Maybe... maybe... maybe... there are a lot of maybes, and I want to be very clear and say I do not mean to presume to know what Joe and his family have been through. But what I am going to take from this, what I do know (as mentioned above), is that emotion that is held on to, attached to, stuffed and never processed causes real physical pain.

Now, years of blocked emotion are working up to the surface. Even now, as I write these statements, I feel tightening in my neck and jaw. I didn't know then that those feelings could cause such physical pain, but now I know and am dealing with many, many years of not speaking, not using my voice, not saying what I needed. It's quite the process, and there are many layers, and for me I am grateful for what I have learned about my emotions and my body.
But I think of Joe Paterno, and wonder - did he have the same difficulty that I do, just in a different way. I think of him, and remember the emotional roots to my own physical pain, and wonder. In a way I'm grateful to him for teaching me a little more about the emotional body and the physical connections - from my own personal perspective I see him as an example of this.

In the end, I guess it goes back to the wave. Or even the water. Often, when thinking of emotion I think of water. This is consistent with the Dagara way of thinking; water can handle the depths of emotion. When thinking of water, and emotion, and attachment/non-attachment, I also think of the Tao. Especially this:
'The highest form of goodness is like water
water knows how to benefit all things without striving with them'
This quote from the Tao reminds me to live in the ebb and flow of it all. To ride that universal wave.
Sun and Ice
It's so bright - It glides and glistens,
Tripping across the tops of all these
frozen New England pines.
Thick icicles hanging heavy -
middle January -
I crunch across the snow alone,
Ice glistens where my footsteps fall.
Fingers crossed against this dark time.
Waiting - Baited breath for springtime...
Eager to hear the peepers,
See Johnny-Jump-Up through the snow.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Oak: Revisited
into the mud -
a sucking sound,
rocks and pebbles
between my fingers,
down
and down
and down.
Shoulder deep
beneath us all
her roots were there.
I grasped her thick,
spring-swollen arms -
she took me
down
and down
and down,
sliding, guided
between all her
lovely under-earth branches,
until I dripped
off the tip
of her fingers
into the womb
of the mother
of us all.
Ochre: Revisited
keening.
It pierces me somewhere
in this soul cave
in my chest
and shakes the paintings
from the walls.
Ochre elk and buffalo
breathing in,
and out,
and in -
steam puffs
from hollow nostrils,
lungs expanding
in the depth and dark.
I hold the torch,
golden-light
a honey on the walls.
Spring Warrior: Revisited
You found me,
wool wet in the snow and rain,
my sword frozen in
October fingers.
You said, "the King is dead
and she is gone.
The Callieach is afield
and you cannot triumph over snow."
You forced me to your bear cave,
fed me root-soups and ancient stories,
tended my heart as I railed against
the dying of the sun.
And yes, it is early,
and the frost is
only barely breaking,
but do not fear.
Sword in hand,
I am wading through the puddles,
my rested anxious legs in breathy fog.
I hear him coming.
I will hang the garlands.
When you wake from your slumber,
you need only celebrate and cheer
Persephone's return.