The Breath and the Life

I am going to indulge myself in some pondering for a moment concerning a statement I made within my previous post. I wrote that our actions are absorbed by matter. Most of us are aware of all of this. However, this is a kind of reverie I am going to be indulging in if you'd like to take a gander.

First of all, I ask, what is an action? What am I thinking when I write "action?" The answer is that I will be writing of action as the force within us that we activate from within that compels us to speech, movement, gestures, etc. I am thinking of that which comes before the positivistic aspects of action, that which we initiate that eventually leads to what we can observe as action. I am talking about the force we "breathe" into our every cell, our nervous system, even external objects that animates the objects. We are constantly interacting with our environment on extremely intimate levels and subtle levels. We are creating in every breath, in every nuance of emotion, desire, intention, state of consciousness, and will. Our vehicles of action can be anything from a sound, a word, a thought, our posture, the way we slice bread, hammer a nail, the way we hold our jaw, and even the glance we give a stranger.

We are emitting ourselves into the pulse of life like the sun's rays do when they are absorbed by a marigold or a redwood tree. The marigold and the tree inevitably capture an aspect of the sun within their cellular system and perform a kind of energy transformation. There is an intimate dialogue between life on earth and the sun, a kind of transformational process as an interaction that is exquisitely orchestrated. So, too, a human being is dialoguing with objects at a similar kind of level. We are pulsating a silent language that ripples out into the field of life and subtly contacts matter and transforms matter, influences the identity of that matter no matter how minute that influence may be, no matter how miniscule this interaction is, it is happening and matter takes record like a fossil takes impressions. There are constant impressions made within this fluid dynamic of human to matter inter-activity.

Why am I rambling about all of this apparent philosophical reverie you may ask? Well, I guess I am attempting to unfold the mysteries of my own experiences. I feel that I continue to sink deeper into life. The more I sink into it, it's like everything comes more and more to life. For instance, it's like approaching a Monet painting. From afar, you may see impressions of form, brilliant strokes of color, and hints of tonal variation and shade. As with every step closer the mystery unfolds into bewildering revelations. Every step closer, another exquisite detail is revealed within the depth and complexity of such rich genius.

My next post will be detailing this curious way in which matter contains stories, history, impressions of the past like our cells do. Our cells contain stories of trauma for instance that doctors can discover through the behavior of cells. Cells are an organized structure of molecules within a system that have their own identity, that are also a part of a larger identity. When a cell has been damaged, it communicates its trauma to the entire system it is a part. Doctors can see that trauma, those cells are the storytellers of trauma. My guess is that matter, on some level, is alive and records data within the environment much like our cells do. My next post will be exploring how and perhaps why we receive information from objects/people simply by holding them or being near them and how these processes have been happening consciously and unconsciously.

A Blog to the Story of the Life Behind Things

A Blog to the Story of the Life Behind Things

I have finally realized why I titled my blog, "The Life Behind Things." I am going to focus on blogging about that title. I don't know where this will take us, but I am going to begin with an experience that happened to me very recently and we'll go from there.

I was holding these art supplies that belonged to an adult education program for seniors that was recently cut due to the budget crisis. My flesh has been burning and electric lately, so when I hold items, I absorb the energy of the item really easily. I was holding these sacred art supplies that other people were calling “junk,” but as I touched them, I realized that whoever ran the program really cared about their work and packed away their supplies with meticulousness and a gentility that others would not take time to do. I was washed over with a wave of great sadness holding these items. It was so intense, that I couldn’t hold them for very long, tears were streaming down my face. I had to back out of the cabinet and take a break, feeling like such a vulnerable fool. I was so confused at the time by my emotions that I asked the director about the program. She noticed the sadness on my face and said, “Every time the teacher would take role, there’d be another person to cross off the list because they had died.”

When I touch things, I feel an emotional vibration sometimes and get images, but more like vibrations that have a language to them, a kind of dialogue with my energy system that is quite tangible. I’m also starting to understand myself better in relation to this kind of interaction. I am beginning to piece together who I am in relation to this world a lot more objectively. I think my sensitivities have always been there, but I wasn’t aware of the difference between myself, and others. The more I age and grounded I become, I correspondingly become more awakened to a world around me that is interacting with me inter-dimensionally. I have to start paying attention to this and become devoted to my awareness of this process because I’ve been numbing myself from having to deal with it for years now. Rather than becoming more and more numb, it’s time for me to strengthen myself and fortify my interior to handle these intensities.

I don’t know why I have to deal with this stuff, but I do. I always need to know “why.” I’ve realized that perhaps it is the simple answer of becoming more kind and aware of the world we are in and to treat it as sacred because every interaction I’m having is sacred. Things, objects carry stories, experiences, events within them for certain. Our actions are, indeed, absorbed by matter. I’ll blog more about that next time.

Andrew Harvey and Sacred Activism

Soul or Spirit?

A few years ago a friend of mine announced that she was pregnant.  I, for some reason, knew a few months before that she was going to be pregnant and asked her. Her response was, "No, no way."

When I heard the news, I was not surprised.  I was surprised however, when I looked at her and saw this amazing geometric light over her head hovering about 6 inches.  The geometry was like a form I had never seen before, like shapes within shapes consisting of a light containing colors that you might see reflected on the surface of a bubble that you blow.  The form was pulling within itself other fragments of geometric forms within its surroundings and then exiting other forms, like fire works in reverse and then alter-verse, but with an incredible depth and and a sense of completeness.  

This temporary form that I saw was actually a formless, ever-changing geometry.  It was this multi-dimensional thing that seemed to be pulling consciousness into itself.  The form was like an energy that was pure self-awareness and expression.  It communicated to me without words, with pure beingness and an aliveness that left me totally speechless and stunned.  

I blurted out, "Whoa!" and then left it at that.  I didn't say anything because I was already considered an odd one.  I know that I was being self conscious, but now I want to share because it was truly a miraculous moment that has not left me.  It's not often that I see things like this. I do not claim to know what it was, but it was very real.  I'm wondering if it was the spirit of the child, preparing to enter her mother through the crown chakra?  

If what I had seen was the child's spirit on some visual level, then what I had seen was something that is a piece of consciousness, a saturated aspect, an acute concentration of divinity.  What was communicated within that fraction of a second was not with words but wisdom.  There was a wisdom to this entity that exhibited a union of formlessness to form, pulling within itself aspects of its environment that contributed to its ability to be. A few years later and I am still pondering this extraordinary experience.

Caroline Myss and Dr. Christiane Northrup, M.D.