Archive for the ‘Blather’ Category

trickle of thought

It’s been so hot here, for the past many days, that finally my brain has totally ground, or  actually squelched, to a halt.  I got into my car yesterday evening after a doctor’s appointment and the temperature read 117 degrees f.  One hundred and seventeen. Degrees.  I was grateful to my aforementioned brain for staying in my skull and not leaking out through my ears. This morning when I had to go back for lab work, it was early enough to only be in the 90’s, and the sun was shining on the pastures and fields, making the cow parsnips sparkle and the chicory flowers incandescent.  Watching the miniature donkeys nibble various and sundry things in the shade of a large oak tree,  I thought about the difference between 95 degrees and 115 degrees.  It’s substantial, even though it changes.

Which made me think about…haha, what I’ve been thinking about Gentle Reader, which is probably a lot more complicated than I’m able to explain in squelch brain mode.  But it is this.  I’ve been reading about physics and geometry (practical and intelligible) and thinking about the nature of time, the nature of our memories, the fact that emotion and feeling is largely the unit of understanding available to us.  If all time is concurrent, which on some level it is, theory has it that the magnetic progress of the emotional units can go both forward into the future and back into the past.  Thereby creating change.  In things we presume to be either untouchable or unknown.  Or both, in the case of the future.

I’ve read this information for years and basically used it as a blunt instrument on myself.  It gets morphed into the “you can totally create your entire future and what you want and nothing you don’t want” school of living.  This often is couched in financial terms.  And also, in terms of failure if you, poor fool, cannot get your brainwaves horsed around into monetizable units of success.  This can mean lots of things, like marrying “right” or going to any number of the “right” things or places or whatevers.

But.  And there is so often a but, GR.  This is but one way to imagine our world.  There are many other ways and the fact that an individual may be searching for something of which exemplars are few and far between is not an automatic designation of failure.  I realized I’ve thought for the longest time that since positive peer review has been, let’s just say, elusive, it just had to mean there was something wrong with ME.  What it  really meant was that I was looking for something that most people can’t see and therefore dismiss.  No more, no less. And, in terms of the ever mystifying impact of emotions and thoughts on past and future- I realized it actually does happen.  You think about something, feel it, after it has happened and quite often your entire sense of it has changed.  As though the event itself were different.   And once you go through a few of these revamps, you start to understand that if you THINK about things differently you FEEL differently about them as well.  And whether or not you win the Nobel Prize, or Publisher’s Clearinghouse, you’re quite possibly happier.  And what happens when you’re happier? Good things.  There is also a small bit of snowball effect, in that once your thinking is on a different frequency, different things tend to show up in your force field.  At the very least one can be calm and happier, no matter what else is going on.  AS usual, interpretation is pretty key.

The geometry is allied to this, in the sense that it “defines” space for us, shows it, and generates energies and movements.  Circles and trines and squares and pentagons and all shapes have actual conceptual frameworks, which involve some math.  But once you stick with it, it is possible to see that this geometry is in fact a framework for all sorts of things, an ongoing demonstration of the universal in the particular, and an expression of what it means for things to fit together in movement.

It is Way Too Hot to continue with this at the moment, but.  Food for thought when one’s fingers aren’t slipping off the keyboard.  Back to shallow, and cool, water.

thank you.

the roller coaster of learning

I’ve been having all sorts of thoughts and realizations of late, Gentle Reader.  Naturally they flow most when I’m not able to write them down, but that is the way of it.  Sometimes, or usually, I think, that’s OK because those ideas, or whatever they are, are rolling around in the ethers of my brain.  Sooner or later there will be a report from the front.

And whaddaya know? A report materialized.  My birthday was on Easter this year, so aside from the frivolity (cake!!! EXTRA wine!!! ASPARAGUS!! STEAK!!) (and, I believe we saw not one but FOUR Easter Bunnies) I found my thoughts revolving rather depressingly around 1) the past and 2) the future.

Not much can be done about the past, or about the fact that each birthday moves us closer to a time when we’ll be in something we have no truthful idea about before we get there.  While this is always true to a certain extent, of course what I mean here is: death.  On top of the unknown future itself.  Which, if  you want to be happy,. you stay out of until you arrive.  Thus always being in the NOW.

While I mulled over the dawning realization that I found the above stuff more than somewhat upsetting, the Report started to be broadcast on the cranial speakers.  You’re just afraid, it said.  There is no room in your head for that fear, and besides it’s giving you a headache.  (Certainly it wasn’t All That Cake…..) And while we’re on the subject? The fact that you have beings you love madly in your life is leading you to fear their loss.  NOT VERY EVOLVED YET ARE WE?  (My broadcaster can be less than tactful.) And then, of course, the triple whammy was revealed.

I was watching something on PBS about James Randi, a magician who “debunked” psychics, in particular a man who seemingly could bend spoons telekinetically (Uri Geller). I got to thinking about the whole idea of magic and psychic things and suddenly it hit me.  And no, it wasn’t that I could’ve had a V8.  It was that perhaps the biggest obstacle to, we might say, realizing my dreams, was me being strung on the line between truth and apparency.  What we’re told is true vs. beyond what we KNOW, ultimately, is true.  It’s very easy for people to dismiss “magic” and the psychic realm because, sadly, there are many practitioners who don’t function with integrity.  It’s another case of external authority being swallowed whole with no critical thinking, things are either black or they’re white.  People are very willing to give up their sovereignty if they think someone will give them the answer they want to hear.  Whether or not it’s true doesn’t seem to matter much.

The thing of it, for me, is this.  Everything I do is, in a sense, based more on magic than anything else, years of study and work notwithstanding.  Magic, to me,  is actually a system of interactions and flow and pattern, and the world as it is being viewed carefully and responded to.  There’s a hell of a lot more to it all than we generally know, or can ever hope to.  And, really? We don’t need to know it all. When I started getting deeply into energetic medicine, I tried very hard to not be one of those individuals in flowing robes laying down gnomic concepts, or being someone who “knew it all”.  Or knew anything, really.  It isn’t about what you KNOW.  It’s about what you are and how that interacts with everything around you- that is magic.  It’s not about manipulation or trickery.  It IS about opening a line of awareness so that whatever is happening can be seen.  Then you are in a much better position to make a decision about how to RESPOND.  I see more and more as the remedies come together for people, how elegant and focused they are, far more than they would be if I just thought about what to do from the perspective of what I’ve studied.

This also means, on some level, that the things I do aren’t replicatable on a big scale- not, let’s say, very commodifiable or prone to being monetized.  I’ve also worried in an ongoing sort of way about just how crazy people thought I was.  Very, probably.

But.  You know what?  Finally, at long last, all that is just fine.  It’s OK.  It is what it is, and the truth is we really don’t need to make choices about believing in magic or not, or worrying whether people don’t like us because they don’t understand us.  It’s enough to know that there is truth in our awareness if we are willing to do the work to develop the muscles.  Truly not about what others think.  Not even about what we think of ourselves.  But very much about what we DO as we go along.  So I’m now on a new project: no grousing around.  There’s a blueprint out there somewhere, and we’re all equally flawed and perfect- but the quest is of paramount importance.  Not a bad birthday!

 

no picture monday

You are spared a gratuitous dog picture today, Gentle Reader, because my attempt at emailing an action shot of The Dog to myself failed.  Technology and I are not on good terms of late it seems.  While I am somewhat proud of myself for (at last) figuring out the reason my camera and laptop no longer speak to each other? (Which is that because I FINALLY upgraded my antediluvian OS , now the photo application is Lost In Space….) at the same time the complexity of constantly having to “upgrade” something that’s working fine as it is reminds me of just how close to going over the edge we are as a species, in general.

Writing yet another letter about not drilling in the Arctic.  Yet another letter about immigration reform.  YET ANOTHER LETTER ABOUT SAVING BEES.  This all takes time, and when you add to that the irresistible impulse I have every time I even see the word Trump to obliterate my consciousness, it adds up to quite the endeavor to maintain equanimity.  And?  All these things are generated by this same impulse to “upgrade”, make more and ever more stuff for God knows Who to consume.  All the while repulsing individuals, generically labelled “refugees”, who are simply trying to stay alive and escape from the miasma created to some large extent by this very Upgrade Machine called world politics and economy.  We all want, at bottom, the same things.  To be happy, as Buddha said, but also to simply be acknowledged and treated like human beings.  Not consumers and receptacles.

Which equanimity endeavor failed rather miserably yesterday.  The Arrival of The Dog has made me think about things differently, as such things tend to do.  As in.  When I “think” about The Dog, I think, oh jesus god it is too much work, too much expense, too much blahblahblah.  When I “experience” The Dog, it’s more along the lines of YIPPEE! Life is good, all kinds of things happen and we really don’t have to take any of it personally.  Just simply do the best we can at each step.  Remembering that love is the glue of the universe.  We are here to BE, not to DO or let our egoic thinking run the show.  HOWEVER.  As I was driving home yesterday a truck which did not have the right of way unexpectedly attempted to take it while I was, innocently minding my own business, getting on the freeway.  No collision, thank heavens, but massive horn honking and then?  The people in the truck flipped me off, big time.  Before I knew it, I’d returned the gesture.

I really was not happy with myself about that and was surprised to find a bit of nervousness as to whether or not the individuals in the truck were a) drugged, b) heavily armed white supremacists,  c) neighbors I haven’t met yet, or worst of all d) all of the above.  As it happened they whizzed on past me, probably not thinking much about any of it.  But I thought about it, because I do try to…well, BEHAVE.  And if someone like me goes tilt at the drop of a hat, what can we expect from anyone else?  Like, say, Trump.  Or FIFA officials.  Or any member of Congress or government in general.

I found it oddly upsetting, the whole incident, and couldn’t really put my finger on why.  Was it because someone, essentially, harshed my buzz? (ahem) Was it just the intrusion of three dimensional PTSD in the form of a bit of pickup driven thoughtless nastiness? One might also ask why I thought it was “bad” to be irritated with those fine folks who narrowly missed splattering me all over I-5.  So, net net?  I still haven’t figured a damn thing out.  Oh, well.

On the other hand, the Dog got his first bath yesterday, went for his first shots this week, and continues taking walks on a leash.  All of which are going swimmingly.  He is also, at least, peeing AT the door now when he doesn’t get through to us in time to go outside.  I’ve never seen anything grow as fast as this dog, who the Vet said will probably end up weighing EIGHTY TO NINETY POUNDS.  Talk about something landing in your lap.

The other sign of potential progress is tortillas.  Finally, I got back on the bike and made both corn and flour tortillas.  The problem with flour tortillas, of course, is that you have to use lard and also a bit of vegetable shortening.  Both of which are now close to weapons grade substances, being multiply-hydrogenated and chemicalized.   The quest for organic lard starts now.  But the tortillas were great and, as the Partner noted when he drifted by my pressing and rolling efforts, I had in fact “done this before”.  I was also seized by an unfightable urge to make prickly pear creme brulee.  Since we had some melons from the garden that were over ripe, I pureed them as well and plan a rainbow assortment of chair vert, cantaloupe, and aforementioned prickly pear custards set atop caramel.  (No propane in blow torch for top caramel at present, is why.) There is a cactus across the road from the yurt from whence came the pricklies.  At this point, between The Dog and The Cactus, I look as though I’ve gone several, losing, rounds with the inhabitants of a pincushion.  I plan to have pictures of BOTH The Dog and the panoply of cremes in the not too distant future.  Barring, of course, any more exploded equanimity or contretemps to the contrary.