New Winds Blowing; Cognitive Resonance; Deferred Maintenance

Early in 2007 while at Harbin Hot Springs in Middletown, CA for a weekend, I was drawn to yet another of the amenities that Harbin offers in addition to its waters:  An intimate movie screening room with large pillows for seating.  The title of one of the films being shown that evening caught my eye:  A 30-minute film entitled “Healing the Light Body.”  I was intrigued.

The simple film featured a very engaging and eloquent description by Alberto Villoldo, Ph. D., of what is referred to as the “light body” or energy body that surrounds the human body and the seminal role it plays with regard to trauma, illness, and disease.  Moreover, the discussion of the light body and the chakra system also encompassed an introduction to shamanism, the world which mediates between the spirit realm and the physical.  I was not only completely fascinated by what I saw and heard, but the message of the movie hit my gut with such cognitive resonance, that I knew in that moment my life would turn in a different direction.

I know that there are millions of people before me in this world who have long known of the energy body and the shamanic world.  But this was my “a-ha” moment.  Apparently this student was ready when this teaching appeared.

The ending credits of the movie featured information about books by Alberto Villoldo, as well as information about The Four Winds Society.  Days later I purchased Villoldo’s book “Shaman, Healer, Sage,” a fascinating and engaging account of Villoldo’s travels and training with the Inka shamans in the ways of energy medicine and techniques for healing with spirit and light.

There are many gateways and paths into the world of energy medicine.  Villoldo’s film and book just happened to be mine.

Finishing my read of “Shaman, Healer, Sage” only stoked my curiosity and resolve to learn more and to be the beneficiary of such healing.  I found a Four Winds practitioner of “Healing the Light Body” work in Sebastopol, CA and attended several sessions with him.  It was just the beginning of my healing journey along the path of energy medicine.

In November 2007, I attended my first of what would be six weeklong workshops with the Four Winds Society over the next two years.  “Healing the Light Body” work engaged me in rituals, initiations, and healing techniques with a community of interesting and amazing people, all with their own life stories and aspirations for healing and being of service to others.

I found the Four Winds processes transformative.  They catalyzed my release from oppressive paradigms and limiting belief systems that I held in my mind and my body, but that were not of my own choosing.  My Four Winds experience was a convergence of energy, quantum reality, and spirit, held in the sacred vessel of Inka shamanism.  It was also a springboard to further exploration of and inquiry into a vast array of energetic healing modalities, as well as the beauty and power of indigenous cultures which are more directly connected to spirit and nature without the mediation of “religion” and its attendant human obstruction and distortion.  I now move through this world with a vastly greater consciousness of my free will and a deeper awareness of the power and consequence of my choices.  Moreover, I embrace my connection to the natural world – the world of animals, plants, and the cosmos – in unprecedented fashion.

This journey, while empowering and expansive, has also been challenging.  Relationships have changed, and sometimes ended.  Yet new relationships have also begun and been made possible through this work.  When I feel negative emotions, they are now a call to look inward, as opposed to laying blame with someone or something else.

One of the most significant realizations I have come to is that in the West, when it comes to energetic health, there exists an untold reality of what I term “deferred maintenance.”  While some would argue in support of the redemptive value of religion, I have come to my own perception that the paradigm of duality (the basis of most religion, if not all) is fundamentally disempowering; suppressing and aborting the widespread practice of effective energetic healing modalities for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years in Western/Judeo-Christian culture.  The level of energetic toxicity, blockage, and imbalance has reached untenable heights, as reflected in our bodies and in our world.

Thankfully, this tide is now turning.  Particularly over the past 30 years and crescendoeing now, the West is embracing the treasures of indigenous and mystic wisdom that had previously been kept hidden and almost destroyed.  

These are big statements, I know.  But hey, this is my blog.  And welcome to it.

There Will Be Blood; Death Spiral

In late summer of 2004 at the age of 75, my father Al was diagnosed with a blood disorder of idiopathic origins.  He had been feeling chronically tired for several months, and when the test results came back, they revealed that his red blood cell production was significantly below normal.  It wasn’t cancer, it really wasn’t anything “present.”  It was, starkly and simply, a near absence of function.

In addition to the many questions and feelings that this news elicited, it dawned on me that my father’s Italian mother and sister had both had issues with blood, as they both had been anemic during their lives.  My father’s mysterious diagnosis prompted a reflection on my part that encompassed questions around genetics, correlation between illness and personality (my father had always been a bit of a hypochondriac), and, inevitably, mortality and death.

Being the life student/seeker that I aspire to be, I resolved to explore “death.”  I really hadn’t contemplated death in any real way thus far in my life, and my father’s illness felt like an initiation of sorts.  It announced to me not just the reality of my father’s mortality, but mine as well, as I occupied middle age at this point.

While the news was deeply concerning, it was also a call to vigilance, as I knew deep down that this was going to be a long and difficult journey for my father and his family, most particularly my mother JoAnne.

Western medicine threw everything it had at my father (he had health insurance over and above Medicare).  The list of drugs my father was prescribed for his condition, as well as for medication side effects, is pretty staggering:  Imuran, Prednisone, Levoxyl, Lisinopril, Aciphex, hydrochlorothiazide, Azathioprine, Phenytoin Sodium, Propanolol, Spironolactone, Furosemide, Levothyroxine, and probably more.  The reason I know the names of these particular meds is because my father journaled his medical condition meticulously over the duration:  Medications, dosages, when taken, medical procedures, bone marrow tests, blood counts and measurements of all kinds.  Pages and pages and pages.

In addition to, and in spite of all the medications, sometime soon after his diagnosis, the blood transfusions began, the sessions of which would last anywhere from three to five hours.  Apparently, receiving blood is a much slower process than giving blood.  At first, the transfusions were monthly, then twice monthly, until ultimately, in the last year or so, they were pretty much weekly, sometimes twice a week.

Through it all stood my mother.  She drove my father to all of his appointments and, as his wife, witnessed everything.

I was living across the Bay in Oakland, CA at the time, having moved there in January of 2005. Ostensibly, I thought I moved to Oakland to live with a boyfriend. In hindsight, however, it was also a safe distance from which to “keep vigil.”

Vigilance is a state of simultaneous observation, witnessing, suspension, and disruption.  The most painful part of my vigil was watching my father (and mother) endure a prolonged (though contained) state of fear and anguish.  It was brutal.  I feel for all those who endure or have endured long dark nights of painful vigilance.

My father’s ravaged body finally succumbed to the illness at his home on June 23^rd, 2009, five days after he had collapsed at the doctor’s office where he had been to receive yet another transfusion.  Present at the time of his death were, most thankfully, a Hospice nurse and his immediate family (my mother, my two brothers, and myself). 

Minutes after he stopped breathing, I went into the bedroom that I occupied as a child and performed a ritual called The Death Spiral that I had learned just six months previously at a shamanic workshop of the Four Winds Society.  It is a beautiful and solemn ritual whereby the spirit of the deceased is released from the body and sent on its way.  I even had my notes from the workshop with me for referral.  I feel in my heart that I was successful in aiding my father’s spirit journey.  I felt he was at peace and happy for the first time in so long, and perhaps for the first time since I had known him.

Three months later, I moved out from my boyfriend’s apartment and into my own.

In the time since my father’s passing, this seeker has gleaned a few lessons.  First, we must acknowledge and honor the reality of our interconnectedness in order to healthfully and lovingly attenuate its influence over our identity and our choices.  And second, fear, particularly fear of death, robs our lives and robs us of life.  While I wish my father could have lived with more peace while he was alive despite his illness, I am so much richer for having kept vigil.

Coupling, De-Coupling, and a Theory of Entanglement

Sometime after we parted ways after ten years of marriage, my former husband said something to me that was profoundly healing.  He said, “Sue, we were together for a reason, and we parted for a reason.”  His words had a deep impact on me and gave me pause for reflection about relationships in general.  In essence, he had performed a ritual for the both of us with that single sentence.  Embodied in it was a sense of acknowledgement, honor, and letting go.  The other message that I got from these words has to do with nonjudgment.  The truth is, everything happens (and doesn’t happen) for a reason.  We don’t always know what it is, but we have to trust in the Universe.  This is often easier said than done.  But when we do, the lessons and gifts can be gleaned, even (and perhaps particularly from) the adversity.  I will always be grateful to my ex for our peaceful divorce.

Despite some good times and sweet moments, I have felt more challenged by relationship in my life than I have felt fulfilled by it.  This has been my path in this lifetime.  This is probably because the choices I’ve made in the past when it came to partnering up have been colored by fear and insecurity, and the consequences of such choices would start becoming very apparent soon after the relationship began.

Given what I’ve experienced and discovered in the last few years about myself, the human condition, and “the bigger picture,” I have come to the realization that when choosing a mate or a lover, there are so many forces at work that are invisible and that slip under the radar of our conscious awareness.  Like many, I would welcome “right partnership.”  But what I prefer more at this point is a joyous life that supports my higher self.  And so I’m feeling very content at this moment being and going solo.  There is much that I wish to explore, do, and experience further, and I am really savoring myself.  This might sound strange, but I don’t want to risk wasting time on “the wrong choice.”  And I mean that wholeheartedly.  Been there, done that.

I am fully aware of the necessity for compromise in relationship.  So much so that I feel I have compromised too much in my relationships.  When I would ask for something for myself from my partner, and then not get it, instead of lobbying for what I wanted or ending the relationship when it became clearly apparent that reciprocity was not forthcoming, I would put up with the disappointment for far too long.

We’ve all been there.  For me, giving has always been much easier to do than receiving.  Too easy, as a matter of fact.  In the past, not only did I not take the time to figure out what I really wanted in and from a relationship, but the mere thought of asking would stop me in my tracks.

I have often said in the midst of a relationship, “I am no good at this.  I don’t know how to do this, and I don’t know how other people do it.”  I know people sometimes say such things when trying to figure out how to raise kids, but you really don’t hear people say, “I don’t know how to do this” when it comes to relationships.  

When it comes right down to it, after all is said and done, in the comfort of my four walls, I know I rock.  I am at a hard-won peace, and I am happy.  I embrace it all.  All good.