Wednesday, May 9, 2012

There is no spoon

Actually there are plenty of spoons at the American Indian Museum.

What is real? This question often vibrates a thread of thought in the crazy weave ongoing inside my head. I've been writing a lot about it lately, I know. Is it boring to wonder about this so often?

It isn't for me, apparently!

I'm aware that the people who consider me to be a few chips short of a fish dinner probably chuckle or at least smile when I pass on to them a message from one of my spirit guides. I don't get worked up when people make fun of me because of my experiences making fun of others. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, after all.

You should have seen the smirk on my face when the salesperson at the shop in Shepherdstown told me the crystal I bought was "seeded by the Lemurian people," and that the crystal was meant to be a teacher. But now that I've worked with it for awhile, I have to admit ... well ... I don't know about Lemuria, but the crystal does transmit something that seems a whole lot like wisdom. At least this is true in the Reyaverse.

When will I learn not to make fun of the things I know nothing about? I'm working on making my natural skepticism less derisive.

But what I'm thinking about this morning is the way in which my somewhat unique view of what's real sometimes blinds me to truths that would be obvious to those whose world views are grounded in societal standards of health. What I'm saying is, sometimes I don't recognize mental illness in others. I see a psychic disruption or sometimes an influx of so much psychic information that the person is overwhelmed. This was the case with a client of mine a few years ago who eventually committed suicide. I referred him to two therapists, by the way, as well as to the Sufi acupuncturist, but in the end he drowned on his delusions. None of us were able to help him.

My father suffered from a variety of mental illnesses, hence that condition seems "normal" to me. I, too, have been crazy as a loon at times in my life. No wonder it seems normal! Sometimes I see the problems in my clients but believe I can address them energetically. I can't remember a time when this approach ever worked or helped anyone. And yet I have persisted in trying, in tandem with recommending that these clients seek healing from a variety of sources. I always recommend psychotherapy. It saved my life! But with clients who have truly gone round the bend, I have not ever been of help. There's something in my approach that actually eggs them on.

It's interesting - and sobering - to think about.

What does seem to help is when I teach basic skills like grounding, centering, breathing and such to people who are mentally stable. It gives them tools to use should they veer off into confusion, depression, mania or delusion. These skills have helped me countless times over the years. I thank God for my great teachers! I could be a hot mess, but I'm not. I'm a little crazy, but harmless for the most part.

I'm thinking about teaching a meditation class. I'm telling my clients to stand up straight, get enough sleep, move around. I know how to do soul retrievals, but lately I'm realizing I should leave the fancy aspects of psychic healing to those who are more clear about what is and what is not "normal." I'm not qualified to help those who are drowning. It's a revelation!

There is no spoon, but we have to live as if there is, as if that spoon is solid and reliable. Otherwise, we are lost. This seems obvious to me, but I'm really getting that it isn't obvious to everyone, and that my best work is with those who are more or less on the same page.

Today I'll stand up straight, breathe, drink a lot of water. In a little while I'll be on the Sufi acupuncturist's table. After that I'll see a client who is definitely not off her rocker. I look forward to it!

Shalom.

5 comments:

ellen abbott said...

Why do they call it the American Indian Museum instead of the Native American Museum?

What is mental illness anyway? Some is extreme, I suppose, like in those that succumb and do themselves in. But if we all create our own reality, how is it that ours is more real than theirs? That we say, you are mentally ill. Maybe in their reality, we are the mentally ill ones.

Reya Mellicker said...

Indians, by and large, hate being called Native Americans. They feel it is pretentious and makes the rest of us feel better.

Reya Mellicker said...

Ellen Im talking about those who can not function day to day, who are paranoid and delusional.

ellen abbott said...

Really? I thought they didn't like being called Indians. Goes to show how much I don't know. So how do they prefer being referred to?

I know some people suffer terribly by the way their brain/mind functions and I wasn't trying to make light of that.

C.M. Jackson said...

Love your writIng and your thoughtful approach to the journey of who you are and the search for meaning. Thank you.