Thursday, April 21, 2011

Bridge


As I sat in our drafty bathroom with the space heater blowing on me, I was warm on one side and cold on the other. It seemed so appropriate.

I had my verbal monkey brain chant Cindy's "I Give Thanks" poem:

I give thanks for this time, for this place, for this life, for this love.
I give thanks for the ground that I walk on.
I give thanks for the sky up above.
I give thanks from sunrise to sundown.
And all through the night
I am nestled in a blanket of gratitude
and love.
I give thanks.
I give thanks.
I give thanks.

It recited that while breathing, working the billows.
And I felt hot on one side and cold on the other and the Mannaz came into my brain.
I felt like a bridge.
I felt the Light open and felt like a bridge.

A week or two ago, I had a dream that I met with the indexer spirits who are helping me. They were asking why I was too busy to meet my indexing course Unit C deadline. And instead of telling them the truth--that I chose to work on Remarkable Journey instead-- I lied to them. I told them I was working on articles for Key Words. I lied! The next morning was a weekend morning and as we sat in the den, this dream came to me and I realized that the song playing kept repeating the words "You lied! You lied!"

I think the lie was that I wasn't keeping my commitment to sit. But this morning's sit was so wonderful that I think I'll be keeping my commitment.

I am a bridge.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Feeding the Ghosts



From The Wise Heart: A Guide to the Universal Teachings of Buddhist Psychology by Jack Kornfield, p. 287:

...I told Bruce that in the Buddhist tradition, when demons and hungry ghosts appear, there is a ritual practice of feeding them. In this practice we transform the worst, most rabid, most fearful energies by deliberately visualizing what we can do for them. We picture giving them whatever they want and need, even our own body, until they are fully satisfied.


My spirit guide is Buddhist (no surprise): During an early journey I was being taught that I have nothing to fear. I met a being who wanted to eat my heart and so I gave it to him, repeatedly.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Thick



I can be kind of thick sometimes.

I had a general confusion as to how a flesh-and-blood psychopomp could be of use. That is, couldn't the spirit guides and other more-knowing beings accomplish the task that I'm learning to do? Especially since I've been advised by experienced flesh-and-blood psychopomps to rely on my spirit guide for direction and assistance in the process.

So I asked my spirit guide.

And heard the familiar refrain: I am a bridge.

My services would be needed for those "earthbounds" who cannot or will not see the spirit guides who are there to help them successfully cross over. Perhaps the earthbounds' belief systems prevent them from knowing they have spirit guides to help them. Perhaps the earthbounds are confused on some level about their status and so don't know that crossing over is what they should be doing.

Because they are earthbound, they can see me even when unable to see their spirit guides. So I am the bridge between.

I am a bridge.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Mannaz


If you look up the rune Mannaz, the descriptions mainly reference its association with "man." When it presented itself to me, it was in the context of "bridge."

From the Wildspeak description of Mannaz:

Mannaz is the personal rune of the god Heimdall, who was also known as Hvitass, Rig and Mannus (hence name of rune). Heimdall was the god who had three children that in turn were the original ancestors of the three different branches of the Germanic people. It is Heimdall who stands between the deities and the humans as the bridge between them. Heimdall is the representation of the 'truth' of the divine in man. Heimdall is the god of bridges, making them, walking them, and understanding their necessity. As such Mannaz itself is a god of connecting two opposing points, and then walking that bridge in balance and harmony, to better understand the deeper nature of ourselves and others.

This is a rune of human development, the deep human development that often leads to great wisdom, access to powers and the inner divine. It is understanding who, what, why, when and how you are, through building bridges within and without the physical body. It is the balancing of intuition with the intellect, the understanding that all wisdom needs to be tempered with joy, humour and respect. The inner understanding of the relationship between divine and man, and how we bridge the gap between is revealed to us in depth when working with Mannaz.

During yesterday's sit, as I was breathing in Fuck You's and breathing out sweet caresses, I was awash in the duality of my nature and struck how this rune captured that. And how, while I don't want to be a bitch/blue, I don't have to be an angel/red. I can be somewhere in the middle, purple.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Tonglen


When I sit, I often see my drum as a membranous doorway that I'm pushing through. That's partially due to the primal image above, from The Prisoner, a 17-episode late 60s television series. My internal image is full body.

I sat yesterday for the first time in a long time. A couple of days ago, I got up on the wrong side of the bed. I was a nasty bitch. I have a nasty, self-centered bitch side.

I sat yesterday with the goal of starting down the path toward eradicating that demon within me. Then I thought that perhaps I needed to befriend that demon. Then I remembered the practice of tonglen:

From Making Friends with Death by Judith L. Lief:

When we are in the greatest pain, we have the hardest time stretching beyond our own concerns. There is a famous story in which the Buddha encounters a grieving woman, carrying the body of her only child. This woman was completely stricken by grief. She had lost everything-- her parents, her husband, all her family, and now she had lost her only son. She would not let her fellow villagers take him or bury him; she refused to even acknowledge that he was dead. When her friends heard that the Buddha would be passing through their area, they suggested that she go and see him and ask him to cure her son. So in desperation, she traveled to the Buddha and asked for his help. The Buddha told the grieving mother that he could indeed help her but only if she brought him a sesame seed from the home of a family that had not experienced death. In great relief, the woman set out to find that seed. But as she went from house to house, she found not a single one that did not have a tale of loss. In her search for the sesame seed, gradually she was drawn out of preoccupation with her own pain as she realized the level of suffering all around her. And when she returned to the Buddha, she was ready to bury her child.

The contemplative practice called tonglen in Tibetan, or "sending and taking" in English, works directly with this powerful tendency to focus on ourselves. The practice of tonglen exposes the depth of our self-absorption and begins to undermine it. It is a practice specifically designed to remove that obstacle and the many other obstacles that stand in the way of our natural impulse toward kindness.

The practice of tonglen is sometimes described as a practice of "exchanging self and other." This is because the goal of tonglen is to flip that pattern of self-absorption around completely, to the point at which instead of putting ourselves first, we put others first. So if I were continuing that game with my daughter it would go differently: "I'm 'you,' and you're 'me'." "No, I'm 'you,' and you're 'me'." Tonglen practice goes from the starting point of putting ourselves first, through the middle ground of viewing ourselves and others equally, to the fruition of putting others before ourselves.

If our view is to focus on ourselves, the our actions will tend to feed that view by grabbing on to whatever builds us up and pushing away whatever threatens us. Our habitual activity is to protect ourselves by constantly picking and choosing, accepting and rejecting-- but in tonglen practice, once again we reverse our usual approach. Instead of taking in what we desire and rejecting what we do not, we take in what we have rejected and send out what we desire-- basically the opposite of "normal." Tonglen practice completely reverses our usual way of going about things....

In the same way that it is possible to cultivate mindfulness and awareness through meditation practice, we can cultivate kindness through tonglen practice. Through the practice of tonglen, we learn to work straightforwardly with the difficulties we encounter and extend ourselves more wholeheartedly to others. Tonglen is training in how to take on suffering and give out love. It is a natural complement to mindfulness practice, a natural extension of the acceptance and self-knowledge that come as a result of sitting meditation.

Tonglen Practice

Each time you practice tonglen, being with basic mindfulness practice. It is important to take some time to let your mind settle. Having done so, you can go on to the practice of tonglen itself, which has four steps.

The first step is very brief. You could think of it as "clearing the decks." Simply allow a little pause, or gap, before you begin. Although this first step is very brief and simple, it is still important. It is like cracking the window to let in a little fresh air.

In the second step, you touch in with the visceral world of feelings and emotions. Each time you inhale, you breathe in heavy, dark, hot, sticky, claustrophobic energy; and each time you exhale, you breathe out light, refreshing, clear, cool energy. With each breath, the practice shifts direction, so there is an ongoing rhythm back and forth. You are taking the habit of grasping and rejecting, and you are reversing it.

The third and fourth steps take that same approach and apply it to specific topics. Start as close to home as possible, with something that actually affects you personally. You should work with a topic that arouses real feelings, something that actually touches you or feels a little raw. It need not be anything monumental; it could be quite ordinary. For instance, maybe someone screamed at you when you were driving to work. You could breathe in the aggression that person threw at you, and you could breathe out to him a wish to free him from the pain of that anger. Or if you are worried about a friend who seems to be spiraling down, you could breathe in your friend's confusion and breathe out to her your strength and support. If you yourself have just come down with a sickness, you could breathe in that sickness and breathe out your feelings of health and well-being. The point is to start with something that has some reality or juice in your life.

Once you are under way, it is good to let the practice develop on its own and see where it takes you. In this case, no matter what comes up in your mind, you breathe in what you do not like and breathe out what you do, or you breathe in what is not so good and breathe out being free of that. For instance, after you breathe in that driver's aggression and breathe out your soothing of that anger, what might come up next is your own anger at being so abused first thing in the morning when you had started out in a pretty good mood. You could breathe that anger in and breathe out the ability not to take such attacks so personally. In that way, your thoughts follow along naturally, revealing more and more subtle layers of grasping and rejecting.

When you let whatever comes up, rather than directing your mind along a particular theme, you find that everything that arises feeds right back into the practice itself. For instance, if you feel bad that you cannot do tonglen properly, you breathe that in-- in turn, you breathe out your wish to be good at it. Because the habit of grasping and rejecting runs so deep, there never seems to be a shortage of topics for tonglen.

In the fourth step, you expand the practice beyond your own immediate feelings and concerns of the moment. For instance, if you are worried about your friend, you expand that concern to include all the other people now and in the past who have had similar worries. You include everybody who has suffered the pain of seeing someone they are close to in danger or trouble. You breathe in all those worries and breathe out to all those countless beings your wish that they be freed from such pain.

In tonglen practice, we start with our own concerns, because those are what usually preoccupy us, but we do not get stuck there; we extend out to others. There is very little in our own experience that has not been experienced by countless other beings. The point is sincerely to include other beings in our practice. By the way, this does not mean only humans; it includes such beings as dogs, insects, birds, even bacteria....

If you are sick, that is also a good time to practice tonglen, taking in that sickness and sending out your wish for recovery. I had a friend who was sick for a very long time with recurrent breast cancer, which eventually spread throughout her body. As she struggled with her disease, she began to visualize that on the inbreath, she was taking in healthy energy that was clean and clear, and on the outbreath, she was breathing out her cancer, which was ugly and murky. She was trying to get rid of her cancer, which was ugly and murky. She was trying to get rid of her cancer and replace it with health. When she talked to Trungpa Ringpoche about this practice, he was very concerned and told her that she was doing exactly the opposite of what she should be doing. She was making things worse for herself by not accepting her cancer and working with it on that basis, and making things worse for others by projecting her negativity out toward them. He told her to practice tonglen instead. The odd thing is that once she change her practice, her condition stabilized and she lived far longer than anyone had expected. During this period of borrowed time, she was able to make a real breakthrough in her understanding of life and her relationship to death.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Keep Going. Keep Practicing.


Tonight my lesson was: Keep going. Keep practicing.

I drummed for a long time trying to break out of my verbal left brain and cross over into my right. I felt like my drum was a membrane that I needed to break through. But I had trouble escaping self-consciousness and my cynical ego.

I connected with my Leuki spirit guide. We melded and I danced and drummed for her and let her dance and drum through me. I kept drumming. I tried to get lost in the drumming. I tried not to try to get lost.

I danced in Leuki's long grass and caught a whiff of its grassy, sagey scent.

I kept picturing a band from my heart chakra to Leuki, a band like the one that joined Chang and Eng Bunker, the original "Siamese twins." The band grew from my heart chakra. It grew out into a long tube that became a bridge. The bridge looked a lot like the picture above (right down to the sepia tone) but it was a bridge with handrails on each side.

I slapped my foot with every step along that bridge trying to feel it. Trying to be there. I kept going.

The bridge led into a building that reminded me of a library. I ended up in a small room with yellow walls. A being who introduced herself as Abigail sat across a desk from me. We reviewed how I got there so that I wouldn't forget: Connection from my heart chakra that stretched out to become a tube then became a bridge that I walked along into the building and into her room. She nodded and directed me to look at the wall, which seemed to dissolve into another passageway to follow.

At some point I felt the presence of my indexing helpers and I got to thank them.

I felt the glow of my golden ball of protection around me. Abigail assured me I was safe. Leuki's presence was felt and assurance made that I was safe. I started to feel restless, as though I needed to go.

I was told this connection is always there. I can walk it again. And should. Keep going. Keep practicing.

I thanked Leuki and Abigail and my indexing helpers and then sang Cindy's song of thanks:

I give thanks for this time, for this place, for this life, for this love.
I give thanks for the ground that I walk on.
I give thanks for the sky up above.
I give thanks from sunrise to sundown.
And all through the night
I am wrapped in a blanket of gratitude and love.
I give thanks.
I give thanks.
I give thanks.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Trying Too Hard


I think I've been trying too hard. In wandering the web, I've found some fun sites, like Lady Skye Fyre's page on learning how to channel (and her blog) or this link on channeling through automatic writing. They have the playful attitude that I've been told repeatedly to adopt.

So I'm trying not to try so hard.

Last night I sat and drummed. I attended to the fundamentals, mainly my breathing, which I hadn't been doing recently. I saw a level of energy around me; it formed a sphere around me with something between the sphere and my belly. I was told to scan the sphere of energy. I found a glop of yuk (a "smudge") that I pulled off. As it pulled off it sort of became human with a tired demeanor. I greeted it and asked if it had anything to say to me but I didn't hear anything. So I pictured Light coming down to it and pulling it away. I found another smudge and it too became human-like when I pulled it off. When I greeted it, it sort of came at me, going for my throat. Somehow I knew this was an aspect of me-- my lack of patience. So I befriended it and filled it with light. It became honey-colored, which matched the color of the sphere of energy surrounding me. My patience and I finished scanning and kind of polishing the energy sphere.

I know that I need to work on my patience. I would rather work on it than get slapped upside the head with a patience lesson.

I love picturing the Light, summoning it, because there's such a wonderful feeling when it shows up and I hear the chorus of hello's responding to my greeting.

I love the picture at the top of this post. I'm using it for my sacred space, though last night I also found myself at my original sacred space. I really like the horse-on-springs rocking horse from my childhood that I have there. I rode it early in my journey, to sort of get me started, and it morphed into my Mannaz donkey. I was on his back and could feel the wind in my face as we flew through a purple sky.

I felt that my honey-colored patience was associated with my third chakra, which I associate with the color yellow. It seemed like the energy sphere was also associated with my third chakra.