Shadows of Past Lives

Disclaimer: Many people in many cultures throughout history have believed in the transmigration of souls from one body to the next. So although this is not a popular belief in this culture at this time in history, I'm not really a weirdo, just a stranger in a strange land. ... end disclaimer ...

I've always envied (and felt suspicious of) people who have had glamorous past lives. You hear about them, they write books and go on lecture tours because they can remember living on Atlantis. Or they were Cleopatra or Jane Austin, you know. They brought all the glamour and wisdom of those famous people with them into this lifetime and now they're making a buck off their memories. OK. Why not?

I remember past lives, lots of them. Unfortunately my past lives were anything but glamorous. In the recent past I was a military nurse which meant I cleaned up blood and vomit, and mopped the foreheads of young men while they died of infections. Not glamorous. No one is going to give me a book contract to write about those lives.

I've also served many a lifetime as maid, cook, and nanny. It has been my job, over and over again, to make the beds, do the laundry and clean the quills of folks like Jane Austin, to ensure that these people could write down all their beautiful words for posterity. Actually, those lives weren't all bad. I believe I remember having a lot of fun in those lifetimes, you know, nipping a shot of the cooking sherry then sneaking out for wild trysts with the gardener. Oh yeah.

Of course I've also had thousands of lifetimes as a shaman, dancing around like a madman, battling demons, beating my drum, trancing ecstatically and often getting sucked into power struggles with other shamans, never to a good end. Shamans do not necessarily ever develop "people skills." Maybe that's why I'm so introverted in this life.

It's these photos that got me to thinking about my past lives. Gazing at the shadows of these objects is somewhat like looking at their past lives, at least that's what I see. The leaf at the top, for instance, must surely have been a bird in a past life, yes? And the twig below? A little garden snake. Don't you think?

Crazy Sky

Do you pray? I do, every day. Sometimes my prayers are nice and neat, following a graceful curving trajectory of devotion. Some days my prayers lurch forwards like a car with a bad transmission. Some days - like yesterday - they are just all over the map, chaotic and perhaps even incomprehensible, yet sincere. I'm always sincere when I pray, which, according to Rabbi Manewith, is the only thing you really need in order to communicate with God.

Yesterday's sky was a perfect reflection of the haphazard melange of my prayers. On the way to work I noticed that the clouds had formed an oval bowl over Capitol Hill (see pic above). The bowl was filled with wispy clouds, like steam rising from soup. Very weird. I've never seen cloud configurations like this and wonder what kind of celestial energy could cause it. It looked to me like the soup lifestyle, also kind of like the "empty bowl" I try to be when I meditate. Except it wasn't empty. Hm.

Later in the day the sky went completely crazy. It was as if every kind of cloud formed all at once, layered one on top of the next. There was no rhyme nor reason to that sky, just like my prayers.

Please let the rains come to southeast Africa, as soon as possible, OK?
Please help my clients with cancer find the right drug cocktails so they can tolerate chemotherapy.
I can't find my favorite healing crystal. You know the one. Will you help me locate it?
Can you PLEASE teach me how to be as calm as Barack Obama?

There were more prayers of request, but I will spare you the whole list.

No doubt yesterday's cloud formations were also reflective of the chaos and confusion we're enduring here leading up to the presidential election, and with the financial markets bouncing up and down like yo-yo's. Talk about no rhyme nor reason. Looking up at the crazy sky, I thought, Beautiful! But I also thought Uh-oh. Disturbing!

What next?

Perhaps the Idea of Organic Hierarchy is the Problem

I've been reading about brain plasticity, a topic fascinating to me, but ... uh ... perhaps not so interesting to other people. That grey goo up there in your head? It "knows" so many things! Even more impressive, the brain can improvise when little bits of it get injured. Wow. No wonder scientific culture has elevated the brain to top dog status in the hierarchy of human organs.

Traditionally, the heart is king of the organs, and it's true that the heart has its own little brain, its own customs and behaviors that are as marvelous as the brain. In fact I prefer the heart at the top of the pyramid of organs.

Oh but I am enjoying learning about the quivering, mushy, wrinkly mass that lies just behind the eyes, sending and receiving its tiny bolts of lightning, making decisions and sending those decisions back down the spinal column all day and night. Very cool!

A Glorious Melancholy

It was a nearly perfect summer here in Washington DC - warm but not too hot, not too humid (except for a few days). It was sunny, but not relentlessly. The storm gods blessed us with many beautiful, vivid and dramatic thunderstorms. Summer segued gracefully into a perfect fall. For weeks it's been sunny and warm enough during the day to wear teeshirts and shorts, yet crisp and cool at night. Who could ask for anything more?

Like many of my blog buddies, I feel at a turning point. The bout of pneumonia was transformative for me, maybe just because it made me stop - really stop - and think about things. It scared me into an appreciation of life and health. I don't mean to, but I sometimes take my good health for granted. Not this year, though.

As a result of being ill, I can remember again that everything I need is right here at my fingertips - both "good" and "bad." Even the chaos in the world financial system and the downright nastiness of the presidential campaign (now in its final days, thank God), is motivating me to think carefully about what is and what isn't important. The result of these contemplations is a sense that something wonderful is right around the corner, and that with my renewed sense of liveliness, I might be able to recognize the wonder when I come into contact with it. It's an interesting paradox to be lovingly guided in the aftermath of illness and in the midst of chaos. But - isn't that how fall always is, full of sadness for the waning light and shriveling of summer's green lushness, but also exciting and full of promise?

The weather always explains everything. What it's telling me this year is that everything is exactly as it should be. Not to worry, let the leaves fall where they may. In the midst of paradox, still getting my energy back, I can say with certainty that life is good, and I am grateful. Onwards & upwards! Oh yeah.

Shame on You, John McCain!

I'm sick of the presidential campaign. I wish we were voting today. It's still three weeks off, three more weeks in which to worry and thrash and pray and get angry, feel ashamed of the stupidity of some Americans.

What's got me so worked up this morning is the behavior of John McCain, egging on the bigoted nut cases who come to his rallies, juicing up prejudice and fear. Many of those nut cases have guns. Many are very angry, full of rage. Does McCain really hope one of them will try to kill Obama? McCain's behavior is despicable.

Watching the vids of people coming away from McCain rallies, mumbling things like "Obama is a muslim," "He's a terrorist," and other insanities is deeply upsetting, painful. They are the ugliest of ugly Americans. I am ashamed to share a country with them. If I were muslim, I would be especially offended.

I've read Howard Zinn's A People's History of the U.S. I understand that slavery seemed like a good idea in the beginning, when Europeans were literally starving to death over the harsh winters on the east coast of what is now the U.S. The damage that resulted from that choice - to keep slaves - even though it was a decision made in desperation, can't be measured. The wounds left by our heritage of slavery still run so deep.

That a presidential candidate, a person who is seen by some as an authority figure, would consciously pour salt into these wounds, purposely stoke up racism and fear at this historically precipitous time, is truly unforgivable.

John McCain? How do you face yourself in the mirror every morning? Shame on you!

TGIF

I love Fridays, probably for a different reason than most working people. Friday is the beginning of my work week, and I love my work. On Fridays, instead of worrying about my life and problems, instead of fussing and thrashing and flopping around inside my own stories, inside my own busy busy head, I get to focus on other people's stories. It's such a relief!

Every one of my clients has a fascinating story of his or her own. They speak their stories to me of course, but they also embody their stories in their bones and blood, muscle attachments and fascia.

It's an honor and a pleasure to work with their complex, embodied stories. All I have to do is move their fluids around, warm up their muscles. It's a thrill to watch them relax, get into their bodies, release some of the many tensions and worries they carry around with them. It's astonishing to see how drastically a person can change his/her story simply by having someone address the physiology of his/her situation. Really cool.

Some folks here are very happy that it's Friday because the stock markets do not open over the weekend, or because their work week has been hell and now it's over. For me, it's just the opposite. Thank God it's Friday! Oh Yeah!

Crisis or Opportunity?

Based on the continuing bad news about the financial crisis, my prediction is that it's going to be a scary Halloween. That's OK by me - a good scare once in awhile can be invigorating. Lord knows we Americans have become so numb, we probably need a good scare to get ourselves mobilized.

Maybe it's the smell of fear in the air that has the Dead stirring more perceptibly than usual. They're always active around Halloween, but this year they are especially palpable. Ghosts love it when we get a cold chill up the back of the neck; I think it's mostly harmless, but they do enjoy creeping us out. Since we're already creeped out about banks and money and the stock market, maybe they've decided to get into Halloween mode a bit early this year. Why shouldn't they have a little fun?

As for the non-humans among the citizens of the living world, they seem completely oblivious to the financial crisis. Do you think the squirrels care about the ever sinking stock market? They could give a rat's ass. They know winter is coming so they're doing their squirrely thing, you know, scampering, grabbing big acorns, building their nests, chasing each other around in circles.

The mockingbirds and cardinals that live in the trees on Tennessee Avenue are singing their beautiful songs, the crows are cawing and scolding. Dogs are sniffing and peeing as they're taken on their daily walks, then curling up for long naps in the afternoon as if nothing was wrong. The trees are pulling in the chlorophyll from their leaves, and concentrating all their energy into seeds and berries. The trees are looking ahead to next year, undaunted by the headlines.

Maybe the animals and plants know something we should pay attention to. Maybe nothing is wrong, maybe this is one of those turning points during which everything feels more dire than it has to. Things will change, things are changing - at a fundamental level - and yes, Americans are going to have to rise to meet the challenge. But perhaps it's all for the best. Maybe the time has come when we will finally really get it - that the way we've been living here at the top of the food chain, at the expense of the rest of the planet, really and truly is NOT sustainable. Duh!!

I'm dancing in alignment with the squirrels today. I'm going to cook something good, clean my "nest", take a nice long walk in the gold light, and keep breathing. I might even smile today, have some fun. Life unfolds to the better way. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it.