Submission 101

It’s not what you think.  Or maybe it is, if you know me at all.  There will be no whips and chains.  No domination here.  I can’t even promise you that it’ll be even slightly kinky.  I’d say sorry if I thought I would mean it, but you’ll just have to get your fetish fix somewhere else.

So, when last we talked, I was meditating, wondering about a certain question as to how my dog reflects my life.

Some have asked, so I will answer here the question of the “voices”.  I don’t really hear voices, or a voice or anything like that when I meditate.  It’s more like I get an impression of a conversation.  Ok, maybe that’s not entirely true.  Once, after a yoga class, while lying in Savasana, I heard something, or someone, call my name, and a conversation ensued.  That was wonderfully strange, but that was the one and only time.

I’m sure Jung or Siggy and many others would just tell me that all of this is a way for my subconscious mind to communicate with me in a way that I can consciously understand.  Sure, that will work too.

So, the “voices” are really just feelings that get transmuted into words my brain can grasp and use.

So, here I am lying in a Savasana pose to ask this question of how Molly, the wonder mutt, is reflecting my life.  The answer was clear and definitive.

“You need to roll over on your back and submit.”

Kinky, Spirit.  Thanks.

I was introduced by one of my readers (who is clearly just a friend in waiting!) to a blogger named Jayson Gaddis that writes for a site called RecoveringYogi.com.  The post that was forwarded to me was brilliant, and it’s title was equally so:  I’m way more spiritual than you are, like way more.  I’m not going to give it to you, you’ll have to read for yourself.

Although, this wasn’t really his aim, Jayson’s post was right on for me in reiterating the fact that I need to roll over and submit.  I don’t have all the answers, and, more importantly, I don’t have to.  There is no be-all and end-all to this.  My way works for me, Jayson’s way works for him, your way works for you, and so on, but none of us is exclusively “right” in our approach, beliefs, methods or studies.  If it works, it works.

Like Jayson admits in his post, I too have felt the urge to let people know that maybe they were just a little misguided in their approach to spirituality, or I just want them to see things the way I do, you know, the right way.  (Huh? and/or Really?  Who the hell am I?)  But like the “new woman” in my life is fond of saying, “Everyone here is doing the best they can with the knowledge they currently have.”

I like the Recovering Yogi site because they are a bunch of people who are calling out the Spiritual-ites  on their bullshit.  They are the self-proclaimed disenfranchised spiritualists, even though they may loathe and/or abhor that word “spiritualists”.  I’ve done enough poking around on their site the last few days, and I’d like to think that they would agree with me on this next part.

Here is the major problem of religion and spiritual movements:  Every structure runs the risk of being corrupted because it’s inherent in the design.  What’s wonderfully refreshing about this group of people at Recovering Yogi, is that they’re not afraid to call out the hypocrisy.  But there is more to it all than just the naming of hypocrites for me.

Reading stories like Jayson’s and in many conversations with friends, I believe this is a pattern, a step on the evolutionary staircase of spiritual transformation.  I think that becoming “enlightened”, or “aware”, or whatever other buzzword you want to put on it, carries with it a new set of obstacles, a new dynamic in which hubris can now play.  Where we didn’t “see” before we became “aware”, we now have to learn to “see” inside of that new-found awareness.  Like waking up from a dream within a dream, if you will.

I have much more to say on this subject, but I know I’ll lose you if I write a book in one post, so we’ll just continue a little later if that’s ok.  I think I need a nap right now.  I’m not even sure if this all makes sense.  All this spiritual vetting has worn me out.

Hell Week

Hell Week means a number of different things to different people, I’m sure.  The two times I know of are both from when I was in college.  There was the Hell Week of the Greek communities, of which I never cared to partake, and the Hell Week of finals at the end of the semester.  I never cared to partake in that one either, and in fact I didn’t when I was 18, but I thought better of it at 24 when I finally re-enrolled in college.  Ah, but that is another story entirely.

So, this week is Hell Week for Molly, my 11 month old, beautiful little girl.  She’s a dog.  Did I mention that?

Molly is smart.  As smart as any dog I’ve ever had, and actually, now that I think about it, she is the smartest.  She also happens to be one of those Alpha females, which means that she knows all the commands and what they mean, but she ain’t gonna do it if she don’t feel like doing it.  Seriously, my dog can be a total bitch sometimes.

The thing I dislike the most about her behavior is that when I take her to the dog park, more often than not, she will find an innocent dog a bit smaller than she, and she’ll pick on it.  It’s something we have worked on, and she is well aware that she is not allowed to play that way.  In fact, when I step in to correct her, she knows if she makes circles around me for a minute that she will be able to literally circumvent my intercession and get back to the business of being a bitch.  And for Molly, business is usually good.

Well, I’ve had enough.

If Molly is going to be my familiar, and I absolutely believe that dogs are a direct reflection of their owners, then I need to take the steps necessary to make sure she knows who the real Alpha is in this relationship.  I need to do it now, and it needs to be definitive.  So, I decided to go with a Hell Week to break this stubborn bitch.

It’s been interesting.  She gets one command and one chance to respond.  If the response is slow, wrong or ignored, she gets put on her back.  That’s it.  She is also just getting put on her back at least once a day just for the hell of it.  Struggle, and it’s not fun.  Submit, and she gets a nice belly rub.

Molly, my dog, my familiar, my baby girl, my mirror.  If she is showing me that she knows what to do, but she just wants to see what she can still get away with, then I have to ask myself the question of how this relates to, or better yet, how this reflects my life.

I decided to meditate as I asked the question.  And, yes, they were there waiting.  I’ll give you a hint as to what happened:  they put me on my back.

A Familiar Follow-Up

I was discussing my life and other subjects with my fabulous friend from Phoenix.  You remember her, right?  And in the course of conversation, I told her the story of Molly’s rough evening.  I told you that my friend was smart too, right?  Well, she is.  And in her smart-ness, she suggested that perhaps I was missing a personal message from Molly to me.

What do you mean?

“Well, perhaps Molly is acting as your proxy.  You know, taking messages, so that you won’t have to.”

Hmmm.  Hadn’t thought of that.

Then I thought of another beautiful spirit that had, not so long ago, suggested that Molly was my “familiar”.  A suggestion that made me giddy, to be honest.  So, yes, I agreed.  Molly is my familiar.  You can get a good feel for familiars by reading this.

So, assuming Molly’s “familiar” status, while also staying in accordance with the reasons that would cause a familiar to come into our lives (they find us more often than we find them), we can then also assume Molly’s presence in my life has many faces, many roles, including protector.

So now, Molly is a protector, a guardian angel of sorts for me.  And since she is a protector, then it’s extremely possible that Molly’s rough evening would be more accurately described as her way of taking on some bad juju in my stead.

I explained the skunk at the end of the last post, but, not looking from the viewpoint of Molly being my familiar, I neglected to look up the diarrhea part of Molly’s night.  You were hoping I would say those words in that exact order, weren’t you?  I know.  No need to thank me.

So, here’s what the other half (literally!) means, as I understand it.

This “problem”, let’s call it, can mean that you’re not digesting your reality either through fear of confronting it, or because it is wholly unacceptable to your system.

Wow.  Really?

So Molly took the skunk spray to the face, and the…well, yeah, the other end, so it was literally at both ends.  Reality not being acceptable, or fearful of that reality on one hand, and boundaries, smacking right in the face on the other.

Well.  That seems to be much more powerful than for which I initially gave the story credit.  And here I thought all I was supposed to glean was that I could still be happy under any circumstances, but thankfully my fabled friend from Phoenix opened up my eyes to something much more.

So, does this resonate for me in my life right now?  Yes.  Absolutely.  I may tell you about that another day, but not right now.

On a personal note, and I know I haven’t really done this before, but I want to tell you that I write about these things in order to help me see the world in a different way, in a way that’s more meaningful for me.  I hope that it does something like that for you too.  And I encourage you to reach out to me if you have messages from animals, or your body, and you don’t know where to go to find answers.  All of this information can be obtained by anyone.  If you look around, you can find all the things that I find, and in that regard, what I write about is nothing new or earth-shattering, but I’m always happy to help where I can.  Let me know.  I also love stories, so, please share with me if you feel so inclined.

Holy Crap! That Stinks!

Wanna hear about my night last night?  I thought you might.  You know, I really love what a great listener you are.

Yesterday was a pretty hectic day for me, which, unfortunately for Molly (my wonderful mutt!) meant that I didn’t get to be with her too much last night.

I arrived home about 9:30 in the evening, went directly upstairs to free my baby girl from the crate she stays in while I’m away.  Hopefully we won’t have to use the crate too much longer, but right now, I can’t trust her fully.  I went to see Thor one night, and thought it would be fun to see how she handled being in the house with free rein for an evening.  I’m still picking up pea-sized pillow stuffing from one of my U-shaped travel pillows that didn’t survive the night.

So, I walk up the stairs, saying my hello’s as I traverse the incline, just as I always do, walk into my room, and whoa!

Oh no, is right my friends!

Maybe it was the muddy water I caught her drinking three of four times at the dog park, I don’t really know for sure, but whatever it was, my baby was not in a good way.

She’s a smart girl though.  She at least managed to turn herself so that all her liquid-y wonder shot out the latticed front door of her crate, so most of it made it onto the floor outside her little abode.  But, believe me, there were things in places that I don’t think I’ll ever ask her how they got there.

Amazingly, except for a few tiny blots on her left ear, she had managed to somehow avoid the mess with the rest of her body.

I immediately set to work cleaning up the mess.  Took the crate outside to hose it down.  I just threw the blankets in the bottom away.  I wasn’t gonna try to wash those!  Scrubbed the floor, lit a vanilla gingerbread candle and some incense, you know, just to cover all my bases, and went to find my girl again as she meandered about the deck and yard.  I checked Molly over and over, and I took a brush to her just to be thoroughly safe.

I fed her, told her I was sorry she had to be in that position, and generally loved on her trying to regain my “good daddy” status.

Then, after all that stress, I decided I deserved a beer.

Living in the canyon affords all sorts of wildlife passing through.  Deer, bear sometimes and all sorts of little critters that Molly likes to go out and “talk” to.

Now, she is usually confined to the deck and the top yard area (the deck has stairs leading down to a lower yard), but in my haste to get everything clean and better smelling, I left the gate open to the lower yard.

Suddenly, I heard Molly down underneath the deck.  Now, you have to understand that she doesn’t like the stairs that lead down because they are the metal-grate kind of stair.  They’re hard on the feet for one, but you can also see through them, and I think that throws her off.

As I walk out on the deck to see who she has been talking to, I see a little skunk scurry out from under the deck, scamper across the yard, and hurry under the deck of the next door neighbor.

Molly!  Get up here!

She obeys, quickly navigating the steps, which she has never done before.  She runs into the house, and she starts acting as if she is going to throw up, while simultaneously wiping her paw across her nose.

That’s right.  Molly had just been hit.

I rushed her out of the house just as the smell from under the deck exploded into my olfactory chambers.

No freakin way did this just happen.  My first question was, “How the hell am I gonna sleep tonight with that smell in my room?!”

At 11:30 that night, I found myself on the way back home from the grocery store, four giant cans of tomato juice in tow, laughing at the whole thing.  I mean, what else was I going to do?

Molly is amazing.  I mentioned before that she is helping me change my life, and she is teaching me so much.

My “familiar”, as some have called her, is an extension of me in some ways.  Maybe in many ways.  But Molly’s attitude throughout was amazing.

After her initial gag reaction, she was herself.  Tail wagging, frolicking on the deck (Well, at least until I doused her in tomato juice.  She liked licking it up though!), and if you couldn’t have smelled her, you would never have known there was anything amiss in her life.

Sometimes we get hit with shit (although hopefully, not so literally), and just when we think it is all under control, something else knocks us sideways and we end up wearing the stink of it.

It happens.  But it doesn’t have to define us even if it lasts for a bit longer than we would like.

Molly’s been drenched now in Nature’s Miracle Skunk Odor Remover, and I am just waiting for it to dry fully so I can finally try shampooing it all out.  And you know what she’s doing?  Being the same loveable mutt she always is.  I can hear her now.  Unphased by all of this, she is happily chewing on one of her many bones.

Thanks again for another beautiful lesson in staying true to who we are no matter what life throws at us, Molly!  Now, I’m just looking forward to bringing her inside again!

By the way, here is what Skunk represents:  “(Boundaries) Now is the time to assert your boundaries.  Others may be taking advantage.  Demand respect and move forward at your speed.” -Animal Speak by Ted Andrews

Believe in Resistance!

“I was born into a system constructed for failure… How can so few claim so many victims?… How do good men become a part of the regime?  They don’t believe in resistance” – Josh Garrels song “The Resistance” on his new album “Love & War & The Sea In Between”

I’ve been listening to this album a lot lately.  Josh’s voice is almost haunting at times in a melodious, dulcitone sort of way.  I like it, is the point.  In fact, Josh does some pretty cool stuff, like giving his latest album away for free, which you can get here.  And, if you like this, you should also check out this cool project he’s working on.  Ok, I’m done plugging him, but it’s his lyrics that have been hammering away at my mind lately.

In California, we have been in a financial crisis for a couple of years now.  Now the entire country is lost in the debate of whether or not we should raise our federal debt ceiling.  The National Basketball Association and The National Football League are both dealing with lockouts, and Derek Jeter won’t go to the All-Star game tonight for Major League Baseball.  Oh, to have some of the headaches of these multi-millionaires, right?

I haven’t watched a whole lot of news, lately, but I’m sure something else is happening in Afghanistan.  We still have troops in Iraq.  The Kardashians and Jersey Shore are still on our television sets, a child’s murder has sent up waves of outrage, while hundreds and thousands more die each day and no one pays an iota of attention.

What’s my point?  Well, I’m glad you asked.

My point is that we have it all backwards.  Our priorities as a race are questionable.  Our priorities as a nation, well, they’re something worse than poor.

As sad (and temporary!) as I believe it to be, the truth is that we, as Americans, set the tone for the rest of the world.  At least for now.  Our race for the prize of glitz, glam, six-pack abs, 15 minutes of fame, or infamy, these are the things with which we are consumed.  We are hypnotized.

A few stanzas later, in the same song, Josh Garrels tells us our first step:  “Lesson number one:  Overcome every fear of regret and confusion; it’s all an illusion, delusion set to disconnect the holy fusion of the spirit and the flesh.”

He’s got that right!

I’m not a conspiracy theorist (ok, maybe just a little), but there is no doubt in my mind we have been lulled into a false sense of security, and now we are seeing the thin veil of that illusion being washed away by harsh realities.

How else do we explain a 7oo billion dollar bailout by a government that is in debt to the tune of over 14 trillion dollars?   Try answering that question when your grandkids ask you in, oh, maybe 30 years.

Of course, we got here with all the help of us, the citizens.  We bought the kool-aid.  Then we drank it of our own volition.

I think there is a powerful movement towards something more meaningful as more and more humans are looking to have fulfillment in their lives and not just a paycheck, or a fancy house, or the latest gizmo.  And, believe me, I know we are still doing all of that too.  But I’m telling you now, that when the whole system crumbles and we get to rebuild it in a more productive, more friendly, more sustainable way, all of you are invited to the party at my place.

You know, maybe this is just where I am going on my own path right now, but I have to believe this is all part of the collective megalomania we are experiencing as a planet.  Maybe if we all resisted the Ego a little more, this place would be even more awesome than it already is.  And, in my humble opinion, this rock we live on is pretty bad ass.

Warning: Enter At Your Own Risk

This spirituality stuff is funny business.  A blogger I recently started following wrote a really intriguing article entitled “What Is the Spiritual Path?”  He recounts how we stop and start, learn and forget, or better yet, move beyond what we have learned to the point that we feel like we’re starting over from scratch.

I for one, feel like a baby.  All over again.  I have been here so many times it seems, only to fall off, or forget, or just say the hell with it for a time.  And it’s funny, because I always find myself back here again, looking around, marvelling at the wonder of it all.  I sincerely hope that I never lose the child in me that finds everything in life so awesome.

So, here I am.  I meditate, I hike, I write (sometimes!), and now I’m finding many a lesson from a dog named Molly.  It’s all so wide open.  What works for me, doesn’t have to work for you.  And what worked for me yesterday, doesn’t have to work for me today.  It’s all just where it is, and to be more precise, it’s all where I am.

But be warned.  If you truly embark upon the spiritual path, there is no return.  It is all or nothing.

Now, I don’t mean to suggest that your spiritual journey doesn’t ebb and flow, as it most certainly does.  I mean, just because I watch television, doesn’t mean I’m only a television watcher, does it?  No, of course not.  So spirituality is only one aspect of who I am, albeit, a large part, but when you’re on the path, no matter how many detours you take, you’re still on the path.

I was meditating the other day, and I was again surprised by the message that came through.  Why I continue to be surprised at this point seems comical to me, but that’s ok.

I saw myself doing little exercises that I have done off and on for years.  Yoga, mantras, meditations, etc., etc.  I asked why it was that I would do something for a little while, and then I would stop, or lose interest, or my ADD would kick in, and I would want to try something entirely different.  Sometimes it’s anything different, as long as it isn’t spiritual.  Which, by the way, is just fine, if that is what I (or you) feel in any given moment.

The answer was simple, and like a good answer, it was one that I already knew.  All those times that I start, then stop is just the dying of the ego.  It’s like I’m being tricked by me.  (I should have seen it coming, huh?)

For me, I want to doubt that I could have a genuine, true-to-life spiritual experience.  That stuff only happens to real masters, and teachers, and, hell, I don’t know who else, but certainly that couldn’t happen for little ole me.  Or I suddenly feel an urge to rebel.  Sometimes I think I must look ridiculous, or stupid, or worse, I could look un-cool.  God forbid.

The truth is that I could choose, right here, right now, to be fully on the path, and let nothing stand in my way.  Not even me.  But, that doesn’t always happen.  I do get in my own way.  Well, maybe not me exactly, but my ego.  Fighting for every breath, every inch of life, the ego will do and say anything to get me to quit, even for a minute.

There is no going back, Ego.  Almost hate to break it to you, my old friend.

Now it’s just a matter of learning to be patient and loving and forgiving enough to myself in those times when I do get distracted or detoured or derailed by the ego.

So, I stand before myself spiritually naked.  Looking at me and this life and my place in it as a babe.  Again.  I think I’m finally starting to understand that for every new “level” (for lack of a better word) or breakthrough, I will continue to feel like a new baby freshly arrived.

Maybe you already know this.  Maybe you’re just trying to keep it together sometimes like me.

Have faith and heart, my friends.  Just be aware.  Once you truly enter through the gate to embark upon this amazing journey, there will be no going back.  It will be continuous throughout your lifetime, and we may struggle and fall, but when you’re in, you’re in.  There is no out for the true pupil.  So, enter at your own risk.  Well, maybe at the Ego’s risk, anyway.

Conversations with Spirit, Pt. II

Ok.  Really quickly before we jump back into it, did anyone know the reference from the last post?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Bueller?  Ok, we’ll skip it.

So, the pain of the sciatic nerve was driving me crazy, you know that.  I had already meditated and tried sitting inside the pain, but you know that too.  So, if once is good, twice is better, right?  Eh.  Maybe.  It didn’t really matter, however, as Spirit has its own ideas about what is important, so I took what Spirit had to offer.

I was lying on the floor after having stretched for a while, along with some ice and a yoga strap.  I decided to meditate again on the pain.

So, something else I haven’t told you (in keeping with Part I of this), is that I have two new women in my life.  I know, you think I’m a dog.  Well, let me explain before you throw that cocktail in my face (you don’t read this stuff without a cocktail, do you?)  One of the women is a dog.  No.  Really.  Here, I’ll show you.

How adorable is she?  Her name is Molly, and believe me when I tell you that she has been a life-changing experience in the three short months we have known each other, and it has been exhilarating.  Whew!  Who knew being a daddy could alter your life so dramatically?

Anyway, not the point.

The real point is that I have found someone with whom I would love to spend the rest of my days.  Not that I’m attached or anything.  But this was a funny experience for me.

Just 8 or 9 months ago, I thought I had found that person, but she wasn’t it.  And, to be truthful, I didn’t really understand that.  It seemed so certain in my heart and mind, and, since I’m being completely honest with you, I was pretty devastated when it didn’t come the end that I had envisioned.  She was the first, and she is still the only, person with whom I have ever seen clear visions of past lives.  I was there, in it, in those lives, and she was there too.  It was beautifully and somewhat painfully vivid.

So, some time and exploration of that whole thing passed, but you already know it was not to be.  And to make things even more interesting, this woman had gone to see a psychic that confirmed, that, yes, we had indeed been together several times throughout our existence as souls in this realm (what a cool confirmation for my intuition, thank you!)  But the psychic also said that it was not to be this time, and that there was someone else waiting for me.

Sure there is.  (That’s what I was thinking.)

Well, there was.  And she’s no longer waiting, and neither am I.  Who woulda thunk?

The “before” woman and the “now” woman couldn’t be more different, really.  Both amazing and beautiful in their own ways, but still vastly different.  So, as you might understand, I was completely tentative with the “now” woman.  In fact, if it had been solely up to me, the “now” woman would have never been allowed to enter into the picture.  Thankfully, I don’t get to control everything!

So it was that I found myself on the floor, trying to get into a meditation, and Spirit kept politely asking to speak to me about these two women.  Why?  I thought.  Did I really need to go over this now?  I am trying to get some relief here!  Again, Spirit was not to be denied.

It was the same “we” that spoke to me before.

“You understand why we did what we did, yes?”

Well, yes, I think I do now, but I thought all these things about the “before” woman too.  So, how do I reconcile that with what you’re showing me now?

“You were right about it all.  You have been with your “before” woman in past lifetimes, and it was every bit as wonderful and amazing as you remember.  There is nothing wrong with that.  But it was not meant for you to be with her this time.  You need to recognize that you go around and around with several people many times, learning and growing differently each time, and in accordance with the highest good for each of you.  You are meant to be with this “now” woman in this lifetime.”

Yeah, ok, but I’m still scared.

“Do not fear.  Yes, you have loved and loved greatly, but this “now” woman is someone with whom you have also been many times before this life.  Trust us.  This love with her, this “now” woman, will surpass all the knowledge and experience of love that you have accumulated throughout all of your lifetimes.  You ain’t seen nothin’ like this!” (Ok, I may have really taken liberties with that last sentence, but it sure felt like that was their intention!)

I came back to this plane, dazed by what had just occurred, but happy and grateful.  Most certainly, I was grateful.  (Secret: I still am grateful!)

Well, I’m not sure why I wrote that one.  Maybe I just wanted to tell you that I was in love.  Maybe I needed to say out loud and in public that I’m in love for my own growth.

But, then again, maybe the point is that when Spirit speaks, we may go into the conversation looking for something in particular, which is fine, but we also need to be mindful enough to be flexible in our pursuit.  You know, just in case Spirit has a different conversation in mind.

Conversations with Spirit, Pt. I

“There are a few things I haven’t told you, and before you hear them from someone else, to clear up misconceptions, I’d rather tell you myself…There was a time…”  Bonus points if you know this reference.

Ok, there are some things I haven’t told you, but I don’t really have the time to write every day all day long either, and you would just get bored after a while anyway.  This, though, might be interesting.

One thing I haven’t mentioned is that my Sciatic nerve has been wreaking havoc on my back and hip for the last two weeks, to the point where I’ve been on my back with ice and lots of stretching.  It hasn’t been the most fun, but, as I have come to accept that these types of things are Spirit’s way of getting my attention, I’m doing my best to take it all in stride.

A week or so ago, I decided that all the stretching and ice in the world may not make a difference if I didn’t ask for help in understanding what was happening.  The sciatic nerve is an interesting part of the body.  It has to do with issues in the back, the hip and the nervous system.  So, we can conclude from this that there is an issue that I don’t want to acknowledge (back), about my movement in life (hip), and the way in which I express or communicate said issue (nerves), which clearly has to do with my spiritual self (left side of the body).

Having practically exhausted all of my options in alleviating the pain with ice, rest, stretching, even Vicodin that a friend gave me, and still finding no relief, I thought the best thing to do would to be to ask the why’s and the what’s of my circumstance.  After some thought, it seemed the only way to do this would be to go “into” the pain, sit with it, and ask it why it was there.

I decided to meditate of all places in the car while my roommate and I were running some errands together.  She was driving, don’t worry, I wasn’t practicing unsafe meditation practices.

What I was looking for was not exactly what I received, but like Mick Jagger said, I got just what I needed.

Sitting inside the pain, I simply kept asking it to let go over and over again.  Suddenly there was a voice of sorts.

I’ve heard things before audibly, and while this wasn’t that kind of conversation, I was definitely being spoken to.  It was like Esther Hicks and Abraham, in that the “voice” referred to itself as “we”.

I was told things such as, and again I paraphrase:

“Don’t worry, we are doing this.  You must be patient, as this will pass, but you must trust that we have it under control.  You are going through big transitions, and this is part of your transformation.  As you change, movement will be difficult, very difficult, and, at times, practically impossible.  We are watching over you.  Be patient.  On the other side of this is a freedom of movement that you have yet to experience in this lifetime.”

I heard it, and I understood the message, but Spirit wasn’t quite finished yet.  “They” wanted to give me a visual also.

In my mind’s eye, I saw a huge block slowly rotating, floating in the air before me.  Suddenly, it began to break down into thousands of tiny little blocks.  The tiny blocks began moving, slowly at first, then they began to pick up speed.  The entire block was transforming into something else, and the block itself was initiating the change.  It kind of reminded me of the AllSpark from Transformers, if you’re into that sort of thing.  (Guilty pleasure!)

I didn’t see the complete transformation of the block because that wasn’t the point “they” were trying to make.  They wanted me to see how difficult and/or impossible movement could be under such a tremendous shift.  I thanked “them” for the insight and the meditation was over.

The pain, however, wasn’t, and still isn’t over.  A few days after that, I decided to try meditating again, but “they” were not interested in re-hashing what had already be discussed.  Spirit had a new message for me.

Theory on a String (Of Conversations), Pt. III

“Gio, I’ve been tapping into your energy lately, and it’s all over the place!  What’s going on?  And how can I help?”

Waking up to that text after two different friends called me out on my crap was interesting to say the least.

Now, I have a second name that my friends use here in the canyon where I live.  The story is simple and goes like this:

My roommate, who wasn’t my roommate at the time, could never remember my name when first we met 2 years ago.  I would tell her my name was Jon, and she would always forget every time I sneaked into her little eatery, in my pajama pants with my baseball cap pulled low to hide the tired look in my eyes, to buy the occasional eggs and the French Vanilla coffee cream.  She finally told me one day that I didn’t look like a Jon, and that was why she couldn’t get my name embedded in her mind.  Well, I went to work that day at the Italian restaurant, and a group of ladies decided that they too didn’t think that I looked like a Jon, so they decided to re-name me for the day as Giovanni.  I told Carolyn, and voila, a new name was born, and it’s been around for the last two years.  So there you go.  Back to the subject at hand.

I was only slightly amazed at the text I had received that morning, considering the source.  It was a friend of mine that does massage therapy, but who she is and what she does is so much more than that.  She has been to Peru, lived and studied with shamans and she has drunk the ayhuasca, a psychoactive drink that induces visions and such, which has, according to her observations, increased her talents in different ways.

The point being, that when she talks about tapping into my energy, I know very well how capable and adept she is with such things.

I texted her back, asking if we could meet up to speak about it, as the subject of my scattered energy was too much to discuss in texts or even on the phone for that matter.  She agreed to meet me at her office.

Walking into her place is what I would think it would be like to walk into a meditation temple.  It’s energy is calm and soothing, and you instantly know that you’re in a place where healing takes place in myriad, wonderful ways.

“So, what’s going on?’

Well, you said that my energy is all over the place.  What does that mean to you?

Now, like I said, I know this woman, and I have worked with this woman in the practitioner/client sense, so I know what she can do, but I wasn’t really prepared for the depth she was about to show me.

She began recounting almost step-by-step the things that were occurring in my life.  And I mean it was detail oriented to an almost freaky degree.  I sat there, my best poker face on, not wanting to give away my amazement at her accuracy.

“I feel like you’re going through some huge transitions.  But this time is different from the others you have experienced.  I feel like you’re really doing the work this time.  Does that make sense?”

It did.

“You’ve been here before, but you’re really digging, really being introspective, and you’re really ready to make the necessary steps you need to this time.  That’s all great, but I have words of caution for you too.”

No good deed goes unpunished is what they say in this particular situation, I believe.

“You have to be careful of what you accept.  You are given things because of the way you look, because of the charming capabilities you have, and that type of thing.  You know what I’m talking about.”

It wasn’t a question.  And I knew what she was talking about.

“You have to find a balance.  This is perhaps your biggest lesson right now.  Accept things, but be sure you give back equally.  You haven’t always given back equally, but now it’s more important than ever that you do.  You’re funny in a way.  You go to the extreme in these matters.  You feel you deserve to receive certain things and you don’t at the same time.  You’re kind of like an ego-maniac with an inferiority complex.”

I hadn’t thought about myself quite like that before, but I knew she was right.  It was a brilliant observation.

“It’s also very important that you follow through.  That is probably the second most important thing you need to understand and learn right now.  It’s close to the balance lesson, but more likely it’s just a bit behind in terms of priority for your growth and learning right now.  You must follow through in order to do the things you have come here to do.”

The things I am here to do.

Well, if things come in three’s, then I suppose I just received my third.  But the conversations weren’t finished.  Spirit itself still had a couple of things to say to me.

Theory on a String (Of Conversations), Pt. II

I received a text from a dear friend asking me if I could pick her up at the airport in a couple of days.  Her flight got in at around 11pm or so, but she is a dear friend, and she has helped me with airport rides in the past, so there was no way I was going to let her down.

At least with the late hour, the Los Angeles freeways are fairly free and clear, so the ride there was relatively smooth.  Getting into the airport, however, was an entirely different scenario.  They were blocking off lanes and trimming the path going into the airport from three lanes, down to one.  Once inside the LAX horse shoe shaped drive, it got even worse, or so I thought.  As it turned out, the worst part was the getting back out again.

I picked up my friend, and she instantly warned me that she may have had a couple of cocktails on the plane, and that it was also possible she may have embarrassed herself by talking to the “hot guy” somewhere along the line.  (He was standing on the curb waiting to be picked up, which she immediately pointed out, and he was definitely a strikingly good-looking man by anyone’s standards.)  She may have been feeling good, but she wasn’t drunk, maybe just feeling good enough to take some chances.

I was a bit impatient about getting out of there.  I was hoping to be back home by at least 1am, and the Parking Spot vans and the rest of the traffic were not acquiescing to my desires in a timely enough fashion.

Then my friend, who was feeling a little more uninhibited than usual, perhaps, took one of those chances.

“So…At the risk of possibly upsetting you, I was wondering if I could say some things to you…”

Ominous sort of sentence, isn’t it?

She let me know that she loves me.  I didn’t really need the affirmation, as we are very close and comfortable with one another, but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.  It was a long drive back to her place, and she used the entirety of the trip to let me know a few things, in which she said things like:

“I feel like you’re wasting your talents.”  And, “Sometimes, I look at you, and I think, ‘What’s wrong with you?’, and I just want to shake you!  You know I love you, right?  But seriously, what are you doing?  I’ve seen what you can do, and you’re just not doing it!”

I professed my innocence against some of my supposed crimes, but there was no wiggle room.  My trying of this or that to make money, or my focus (maybe foci, I’m a little ADD sometimes) on “projects” or “ideas” was all just an attempt to keep me from looking at the real wasting of my abilities I’ve been doing, according to her.  (She’s right, by the way.)

My friend lives about a half hour’s drive from my place, and about 45 minutes or so from the airport (which was over an hour when you factor in the traffic delays at LAX), and it was definitely a “come to Jesus” talk for the first leg of the journey.

I dropped her off, saw her safely into her home, and we hugged, and she made sure that I knew that all she said was out of love.  I knew.

The second leg of my journey, the lonely car ride home, was one of the more reflective states in which I have found myself in quite some time.  Almost immediately upon arriving home, there was a text message from my friend, again, reassuring me that I was loved, and a declaration of hope that I took it all in stride.  I had.

I crawled into bed, happy to be home, but happier still to just rest and recoup from the very loving, spiritual ass-whooping I received from a sweet messenger trying to help me see.

I awoke the next morning to another text, but it wasn’t from my airport friend.  It said:

“Gio, I’ve been tapping into your energy lately, and it’s all over the place!  What’s going on?  And how can I help?”

I’ll explain the “Gio” moniker in the next post, but needless to say this certainly grabbed my attention.  Especially considering the previous two conversations, things were getting almost unbelievable.  Almost.