Resurrections

I'm making my way, slowly but surely, through the book Zealot by Reza Asian. I am a very slow reader anyway, and when a book makes me think, well, the process slows even more because I'll read for awhile, then stop and think it through, sometimes re-read, let the ideas sink even deeper into the funky recesses of my mind.

I'm in the second half of the book, in which he talks about the rift between James and Paul, and the shift of the movement from a sub-culture of Judaism into a separate religion. It's all about the resurrection! I knew that, but it never sank in, how powerful this idea would be to first and second century people of the Roman Empire.

In Hinduism, resurrection is rather normal. Divine beings incarnate often as human presences in the world. There are a million tales of the avatars of the gods. They are fabulous stories, by the way, in case you've never read any of them. Confusing, yes, but very fun, dramatic, exciting and uplifting, too.

I had never made the connection between Hinduism and Christianity before. Jesus was an avatar of a divine being, according to Paul. That made the tradition decidedly not Jewish. There were other factors, too, of course.

I see resurrections often, don't you? Just the other day, I saw a dead cicada on the sidewalk. Instead of sweeping him up and putting him in the trash, I moved him out of the way (so I wouldn't step on him), then went on about my day. About an hour later when I came back to the chateau, he was gone.

Resurrected! Or ... something ate him, always a possibility with all the birds around here, not to mention hornets or other large, carnivorous insects. Maybe he wasn't quite dead yet and flew away. Who knows?

I remember Jake at the end of his life, so weak and sickly I thought he would expire at any moment, but when I took him to the vet to do the dirty deed, he was suddenly filled with vigor and actually tried to escape the room of death. It was a horrible moment, believe me! And - not exactly a resurrection, but something akin to it. Eventually he settled down and they injected him and then he was gone for real. Even remembering it makes me want to throw up.

The man, Jesus, was crucified like many others. The Romans were brutal! But then something happened. No one can say what it was for sure. Everyone has an idea about it, depending on their faith or lack thereof. But something happened! And the world has never been the same. It is so interesting to think about.

For now, all thoughts of resurrection must be put aside so I can attend to the living clients who are scheduled to come get some healing today. Life is good and I am grateful. Shalom.

I remember the olden days

The weather here explains everything. Yesterday was thick and dank smelling, a non day of gloomy overcast with an occasional, spitting rain. It was not hot but so muggy I closed all the windows and used the A/C. Just like the weather (of course) I was dark and moody, only rising out of my malaise to work.

The weather gathered a bunch of crappy energy, then swept it away with the rain, leaving the landscape fresh and crisp this morning. The air was light. It was silver and gold, very unusual in August. My mind and heart were full of silver and gold light, tra-la. It was a glorious day that felt divine and ethereal, kind of perfect for the gathering to honor the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington.

Every time there's a sizable demo, busses bring demonstrator/marchers to RFK stadium, on the eastern edge of Capitol Hill. The people walk from there to the mall, through Lincoln Park and down East Capitol street. The vibe, depending on the demo, can be sweet, inspiring, frightening or creepy. God bless America that we can express our opinions openly. We are very lucky.

Sadly I was unable to get down to the mall to check out the energy, but I chatted briefly with a few of the people who walked past the chateau on their way. Lovely people.

I only saw my mother cry three times. Once was the day Martin Luther King was assassinated. It was a very scary time. The president was assassinated and his brother, and then MLK. It felt like we were about to fall into the abyss. My parents were very brave to work openly for Civil Rights.

I'm thinking of them today, honoring their courage and integrity. And I marvel at all that has changed since that day. I know there's more work to do, but in my life so much has happened. It's kind of miraculous.

Shalom.

People on their way to the mall. That woman on the far left, facing away, arms akimbo - she was here 50 years ago. She was very spry.

Home Sweet Home

It has been an odd few days since I returned from my friends' house on the river. Like me, they relate quite easily to the dead - a good thing since that landscape, the Whitings Neck of the Potomac river, is thick with ghosts. After they bought the house and began spending time there, the first layer of ghostly presence they perceived was the river of Civil War dead. It's not surprising since the Antietam/Sharpsburg battlefield is only a few miles away.

There are layers of ghosts that somehow got stuck on their way from point A to point B, including one Victorian ghost who shows up in dreams, saying she needs horsehair. I saw her over the weekend, but one of my friends had already dreamed about her. There are Indian ghosts, too, who come and go, depending on the situation. Things move around in their house, lights flicker or go off, or - as happened over the weekend - in the middle of the night while we were all fast asleep, a light turned itself on, waking up one of my friends. One time they were doing the dishes when a bell in the other room started ringing. Tom turned to Rod and said, "An angel has just gotten his wings." They laughed and kept washing dishes.

These are my people.

For these friends, as is true for me, this is completely normal, and for them as for me, quite entertaining. It is such a relief to spend time with other people who sense the dead. I don't feel as if I have to keep explaining myself as I do with many DC friends. I live in a city in which rationality is highly valued, where emotions, sensitivities and anything "woo-woo" is frowned upon or made fun of. Sometimes I chafe at the way people dismiss my world view, other times I don't care. But I surely love spending time with like minded folks, hence re-entry into cerebral DC can be kind of a shock.

Ah, am I whinging? I will stop right now. I love my beautiful, powerful, wounded city including my friends who value rationality over everything.

Life is good and I am grateful. And there's no place like home.

Shalom.

How brightly does your light shine?

Brother Sun dancing on the surface of the Potomac River. Charismatic!!

What is charisma? Is it the same as charm? Is it about being sexy? Perhaps it has something to do with looks - but not necessarily. I'm thinking about it while reading Zealot, by Reza Asian. The book is about the life and times of Jesus of Nazareth. Well - wow - is it interesting!

The two things about Jesus that interest me at the moment are his talents as a faith healer and his charisma.

About his skills in healing, there is no argument. Everyone who ever wrote about him - in the bible and elsewhere (for instance, Roman historians) - wrote extensively about how he healed the sick and exorcized demons from the possessed. Everyone agreed he was really good.

He healed for free. Now that is really something. Wow.

And he drew large crowds, not because his message was brand new or unique - there were a lot of self proclaimed messiahs at that moment in history, preaching more or less the same thing - but they didn't have "it." You know - IT. But Jesus did. It's interesting to think about.

In the Reyaverse, each of us hosts a nature soul. We have other souls, too, that come and go from our bodies and the bodies of others. But the nature soul is singular. It incarnates as a human only once. It's a personal soul. After incarnating once, it returns to an earthly form. It incarnates as a forest or mountain, a river or meadow, or a swamp. A desert. You know.

People who are charismatic have very powerful nature souls. Encountering these people causes reactions similar to what happens when we see mountain ranges or the sea. We can't help but say, "Oh wow." A powerful nature soul inspires and creates awe in a way that's almost separate from the personality of the person hosting that soul.

It isn't as rare as it would seem, actually. Public figures of every kind often have powerful nature souls. Michelle Obama is a good example. No matter how you feel about her as a person, surely you can see she radiates something very powerful, yes? I'm sure there are sports figures who have powerful nature souls. I'm not a sports person so wouldn't know the names. Of course there are many movie stars and musicians who have incredible nature souls. Something about them, even if you don't appreciate their personalities, makes you stop and take notice. Mick Jagger has a very powerful nature soul. Good lord he is eternal. So is the Dalai Lama. Elvis. Bill Clinton. I could go on, but I'm sure you get my meaning, yes?

Charisma also entails bringing through the body a particular energy, something people are passionate about, something they really really want. There is a form of divine energy that comes through any true charismatic. Sometimes it comes through in a very pure way. I think of Edgar Cayce for example, or Miles Davis, Martin Luther King, Princess Di. For others, it gets distorted and comes out all wrong. For instance: Alistair Crowley. Poor fellow. All the crazy cult leaders channel the divine in a very twisted way. They have IT, but things go terribly wrong. I wonder why.

JFK was charismatic, Reagan, too. But not every president is, nor is every rock star or spiritual leader. I wonder why?

Jesus brought good news and healing to the people of first century Palestine. Believe me, those people needed good news. What a time. Holy cow.

My new motto: It could be worse. This could be first century Jerusalem. Oh yeah. I am very lucky to be right here and right now, I surely am! Lucky, too, I think, that not only is my nature soul not so potent, but I do not channel anything in particular that people want. I am not charismatic, I'm invisible except to certain people at certain times. I can mediate between the worlds for those who seek to contact the powers of healing and light, but I do not personally channel it. Thank god.

It's a good life. I'm grateful. Shalom.

They look like discarded pie charts.

The livin' is easy

Rose hips. Fall is coming.

Last summer was hot, difficult, onerous. In word: yuck! Because it was awful, I became determined to plan ahead, to make sure I would get outta Dodge this summer. For once, I made solid plans to get out. I made reservations, I made sure.

In two weeks my ex housemates and I are going to Lake Canandaigua, one of the finger lakes of New York state. I chose the location because I found a really nice condo on YRBO, with a dock on the water and a panoramic view of the lake. We will rent kayaks, we will take wine tours, we will cook and watch movies and drink wine and oh - we are so excited!

My goals for the finger lakes trip include learning how to pronounce the name of the lake, and learning all I can about the region - of course. I am such a nerd. I've been reading about the geology which is really cool. The finger lakes were under water for a long time, then the ground rose. The original finger lakes were riverbeds. Then the ice came down and gouged out the riverbeds. Later the ice melted and filled the lakes. What a dramatic history.

The Indian lore about the area is wonderful, too. It was said that when the Great Spirit touched the earth to bless her, his fingerprints remained on the land. This is the mythical understanding of the region's history, also dramatic and beautiful. In the Reyaverse, both versions are true.

I'm re-reading Seneca Indian myths and folktales, and thinking a lot about the nations that inhabited that land. They were so democratic - and matriarchal! - wow. I hope to talk to some of the ghosts and spirits of those people, if I can locate the right frequency, that is. I'll only be there for five days.

Tomorrow I'm heading up to the mountains to stay with friends in their house tucked into the Little White Neck of the Potomac River. I love the land up there, but far more than that I look forward to spending a weekend with these friends who are so dear to me, it's kind of ridiculous.

Ironic that I planned these getaways assuming this summer would be punishing like the season usually is. Instead, summer has been wonderful. I've felt good, slept well and been unencumbered by drama. The weather has been great. We've had an abundance of Colorado summer days, plentiful rain, some heat but not too much. In the midatlantic swamp, a summer like this is a miracle!

The journeys out of DC are not about surviving the summer, as I thought they would be. They are blessings, the cream at the top of the bottle.

Life is good and I am grateful. Lucky, too. Shalom.

I'm outta here.

I miss Jake

Every now and then I get sentimental. It doesn't happen often, but it does come up on occasion. I'm ordinarily someone who looks to what's about to happen rather than what already happened, so when I get sentimental, it's a rather odd feeling.

Yesterday I thought about my old dog Jake. I looked at a bunch of old pictures, especially the photos of his reflection in cars. I have hundreds of these pictures. Sometimes, even now, more than four years since he died, I miss him. I really loved that dog.

It looks like he's wearing sunglasses, though he definitely was not. That's Maury Elementary School behind him, and me reflected in the door handle.

What brought up the sentimental feelings? A part of it is that in DC, summer is waning. The energy is beginning to pull itself inwards and downwards. It's subtle at this point, but noticeable. We are no longer in the opening, blossoming, expansive part of summer. Brother Sun has passed his peak. The days are definitely shorter and the shadows in the front of the chateau are creeping northwards.

I'm seeing pods, seeds and berries forming in the green world. The leaf canopy is looking a little bit haggard, just a little, but it is starting to sag. The cicadas and crickets are singing their sad songs. At night their serenades are really loud, as is appropriate in August. And the mosquitoes are getting aggressive in ways they aren't earlier in the season. I'm seeing lots of wasps, too, a sure sign that fall is just around the corner.

I'm out there every day, looking for signs of the shifting season because I depend on the shifting seasons. The turning wheel of the solar year helps me feel grounded and oriented. It helps me make sense of my moods, sleep patterns, appetite, dreams and patterns of thought. I may not enjoy the hottest summer days or the coldest winter days, but I believe these conditions are important, that they set me straight in space/time.

Melancholy and sentimentality are - in the Reyaverse - a part of autumn. It's appropriate to get all misty about Jake right now, even though it isn't characteristic. It means I'm prepared to dance in shamanic alignment with the season ahead.

Ironic as it is, thinking ahead in August involves thinking back to what once was. Yes it is paradoxical. August is paradoxical, it surely is. Or maybe it's me that's paradoxical.

Damn. Sometimes I really miss my dog.

Shalom.

Relational Reya

The internet is an ongoing gathering space, a community center that exists outside of time/space. Everyone who has access to a device is invited. Like a community center, each of us can engage at whatever level we want. It is a frontier of interaction that spans the globe. It surely is.

The internet can be a party where it's possible to catch up with people we don't see often because of the limits of time/space. We meet people from all over the world. We chat with individuals, hear about their trip to Greece or see pics of their kids. We listen and sympathize when they're going through hard times, even though there's nothing else we can do. We send love, prayers and dreams out into the world after these interactions, including to/for people we have never met in "real" life. We are generous in these connections. Or - we can be.

A lot of people use the internet to vent - me, too, sometimes. I try not to, because I believe even though what I put out there is only a speck compared to all the information available, it still has impact. When I'm being mindful, what I post here and on FB is meant to provoke curiosity, inspire, hearten. That's the ideal, anyway. I do not always live up to it.

I'm on about this after someone posted a meme about how horrible it is that we can connect through devices. I find it ironic and hilarious that these memes are posted on the internet. They always have a caption about sharing the meme widely - ummm ... over our devices, right? No other way to share unless someone prints a bunch of them, stands at a street corner and passes them out.

Save a tree and distribute more widely than ever possible in the history of humankind by posting on the internet, yes? Yes!

After the Boston Marathon bombings, the police advised people to use their social networks - FB and Twitter - to let people know they were ok. Incredible that the citizens of Boston could post once or twice, not have to answer or make dozens of phone calls, or email everyone on their list. All they had to do was use the public broadcast system of the internet. Brilliant.

The internet is still free space in the U.S. Anthony Weiner posted pictures of his schlong, for heaven's sake. (I do not think this is a wise use of the free space, by the way, and no I haven't seen them and I do not want to.) One of the great things about the internet is that you can experience it in any way you want. Don't care to see Weiner's dick? You don't have to! Someone posting things that offend you? Hide them, or limit posts from them or unfriend them. It's all optional. I love that.

Anyone can post anything they like. This fact provides the opportunity to learn the art of discernment. We no longer have the luxury of accepting whatever is out there, like we did with Walter Cronkite, for instance. We have to question, we have to be skeptical, we have to think when we see something out there. We have to ask, is this for real? Fact checker companies are booming, for good reason.

Welcome to the internet

Swallowing what is handed to you without questioning is a really bad pattern. We can break that passive behavior by questioning, by researching. Oh the hoaxes! Oh the misattributed quotes! Oh my. They are artful reminders that our ability to wonder and question is one of our greatest gifts. We don't have to be so gullible.

Yes it can be boring, trivial, of course it can. It is not edited or manipulated to make it more interesting. It's the raw feed of contemporary culture in my society and many others as well.

I could go on but you probably get my point. The internet invites us to connect on a scale never before imagined or possible. There are so many of us now. Making these connections is a part of how we will take our next evolutionary jump, which we'd better get ready to do. The climate is changing and we must respond somehow. Or else.

I respect everyone and anyone who does not want to take part. You don't have to.

Me? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I love the connections and interconnections, I am in awe of the world wide neural net of connection we are establishing. It's crazy, unprecedented. I feel lucky to put in my 2 cents. Hell yeah.