Depth Perception

Dragon

The shamanic lifestyle is so interesting - to the shaman, at least. We practice hard so as to be available to insights passing by in the ocean of energy in which we live. We go on trance journeys hither and yon, we listen to the voices of the trees, sky, clouds, planets and animals because we believe that the world, and everything in it, is sentient. When we open to a wider spectrum of sensory input than is thought to be acceptable, a lot of information comes in. We can get out there. Oh we surely can. During phases when we're experiencing a flood of insight, we straddle the line between shamanism and just plain insanity. Particularly in my society, this can be challenging.

What I was taught is that mastery in the Art has to do with discernment, with being able to decide which auguries, which omens, which signs are worthy of attention. Because if we try to pay attention to everything that's meaningful, we will be overwhelmed. We will derail and be unable to function. That way lies madness. Oh yeah.

The signs are always present. As shamans we must be choosy. No matter how fascinating the insights, the truth is - we have to do the laundry, we have to pay the rent. We have relationships with embodied humans and animals we must attend to. Body trumps spirit in every situation.

Usually it isn't that hard for me, I think in part because I'm a bodyworker. There is nothing as grounding as that. But this dramatic shift in my photographic eye, which I now believe to be directly related to what I took in visually and energetically while up at the lake, has opened a new layer of perception in me. My third eye has a new lens. This is normal for shamans. Over time, with practice, new information and new techniques of practice are revealed. That's why old shamans are valued in all cultures where they're acceptable. It's a lifelong Art to learn.

I mention all this because as I focus the new lens of insight/outer sight, I'm seeing/noticing many things I was blind to before the trip to the lake. Even the things I'm used to "seeing" (in my mind's eye) are more vivid, changed somehow. My dreams are potent, helpful and very different than my usual dream patterns. I have a new animal guide, the soulful carrier pigeon who is teaching me a great many things about gentleness and also about communicating in code. So interesting! I'm seeing signs everywhere, from my breakfast bowl to the clouds in the skies to the tiny mouse I saw scamper across the sidewalk yesterday.

Artists of every kind, philosophers and other deep thinkers, and real scientists are renowned for going off the deep end on occasion. It's part of how we stretch the imagination, it's part of our creative process.

Today I've only got one client. My gadgets are working. I love my camera. The chaos of recent weeks has begun to settle down. I'm intent on a nice walk this morning during which I'm going to concentrate on being grounded and centered rather than wandering around all wide third-eyed and Oh wow as I have been since I got back from the lake.

Instead of taking it all in, as I have been, I'm commencing the process of discernment. I have a new lens. OK. I've taken it on a spin around the block as it were, and oh wow, the things I can see. But now I'm thinking, how shall I use it? For instance, I've been told that the Akashic records of all the stars in the galaxy are stored in a library in the black hole at the galactic core. The ancestral records of Brother Sun, and every other star that makes up the Milky Way, are accessible at 26 degrees of Sagittarius. OK. Cool. However ... is it necessary for my work in my brief life as a human being to know that, to work with stellar Akashic records? Maybe. But I'm setting it aside for the moment, with gratitude, should say. I'm sorting through the possibilities, organizing them. This is a sign of returning balance, a great thing.

It's another beautiful day in DC. I will walk and feel my feet on the ground. I will enjoy the secure tug of gravity that keeps me rooted to this beautiful planet. I will put a nice lens cover over my new third eye lens, give it a rest.

It's good to be back. It surely is. Shalom.

Ride the wild surf

I have been out of synch, oh man, have I ever. It started when my old camera broke, I think. Or maybe I could trace this short period of chaos to re-entry after the trip to the lake, when I couldn't "see" anything. Once my photographic eye was disrupted, like a line of carefully placed dominoes, all kinds of other things went haywire. The chaos erupted from out of the nowhere in many arenas of life - physical, mental/emotional, spiritual. It has been rather crazy.

In the Reyaverse what that means is that somehow I've gotten caught up in a wild eddy of energy. We live in an ocean of energy. It's easy to get off track, out of synch. It is so easy! Suddenly you find yourself twirling in a vortex of crazy energy. And the shit goes down all around for awhile. Do you know what I'm talking about?

Just as with canoeing, when I figure out I'm swirling out of control, I must skillfully navigate my way to gentler waters. Sometimes I'm skillful, sometimes not so much. One good thing is that I've had a lot of practice.

Getting back to center always involves some thrashing. I have thrashed this past week, oh my. I've had crazy dreams, been introduced to a new spirit animal guide, received many an insight. It hasn't all been bad. I hurt someone's feelings, not on purpose, but that was hard - and unexpected. My massage therapist forgot about the appointment we had, the first time that has happened in the two or three years I've been seeing her regularly, like clock-work, every other week. Massage is contraindicated in the midst of trying to right oneself. I guess! My devices went crazy. Suddenly even my computer refused to recognize my old passwords. I could go on but I'm sure you get the picture.

It took three tries to replace the camera that died. I'm extremely pleased with the Panasonic Lumix that I've ended up with. Learning the camera is quite a curve. Even though it's still a point and shoot, there are many more features than I've ever had. It's a beautiful being that deserves respect. I always threw my old cameras in my pocket, believing that the best camera is the one you always have with you. But after the old one died I realized I needed to step it up this time.

Suddenly today the energy changed. I felt I had somehow groped my way back to a nice, smooth current in the ocean of energy in which we live. I felt calmer, my stomach didn't hurt. I had energy for my clients. A Genius Bar appointment after work solved my gadget problems, and in fact I took it as a sign I was coming back into synch (such as I ever am) that my genius bar guy was someone I've worked with before. I could have been assigned to any of them, but somehow my number came up just as he began his shift.

Periods of chaos are a part of living life in this wondrous world. In the Reyaverse, avoiding chaos is not possible all the time. Weather moves through lives. It's nerve-wracking as it happens but at age 60, I've been there and done that. I can remember other periods of growth and change. I can remember that eventually things settle down.

No matter, it's good to feel more even, grounded and oriented again. It surely is.

Shalom.

I feel like my brain has been amputated

I'm like a drug addict coming off something cold turkey. I'm talking about not having a camera. It is so hard.

I'm using some fun iphone "camera" trickery to create images that are rather interesting, but they aren't photographs. It's unsatisfying and I'm cranky as hell. The iphone "camera" is awkward to use, has no zoom whatsoever (you can zoom but the result is so grainy, it isn't worth it). It is not sufficient for My Great Need to Take Photographs. Ipics are the methadone to the top grade opium of photography taken with a real camera.

It isn't as if I didn't understand how important photography is to me. I've always been a photographer, since I was a little girl. I have albums, boxes and drawers full of old pictures. I have albums full of polaroids too of course. Once digital cameras came into my life, nothing could stop me from plunging even further into the practice of this life long pursuit.

My ex-camera had just passed the 50,000 image mark when it gave up the ghost. I took 50,000 pictures, had 50,000 thoughts.

Now, coming off my daily fix, I am fit to be tied. I'm having no thoughts, nothing, nada. The lightbulb above my head is switched off, replaced with a buzzing fluorescent question mark.

I would head out to Embassy Camera in a shot except I've been working full days without sufficient breaks between clients to do a proper study of the possibilities for my new camera. I need to work now, make hay while the sun shines, since there's likely to be a government shutdown next week, in which case everyone will cancel their appointments -- or so I fear this may happen.

I could order something over the internet, but I need to hold my cameras, look at them in real life, before purchase. I'm not sure what I want yet. Reading specs on the computer is meaningless to me.

As well, it seems important to go through this painful withdrawal. It's a forced restart for my thinking process. I'm forcing my mind to seek new paths through the logjam of my neural network. They say that this kind of abrupt change of habit helps keep the aging brain from hardening into concrete, so that's a good thing.

Is it? My mood is foul, I'm struggling to write here and on the other blog. My entire creative process has been upended.

But meanwhile I've been given tremendous dreams, a new animal guide, too. I'm doing a lot of Reiki sessions at the moment, too. My spiritual side is stretching out even as the way I think, via Walking While Taking Pictures, is not possible at the moment.

Is it another bloody opportunity for growth? Hence, maybe a very good thing all around? I don't know. I can't think, and I am not enjoying this part!

I'm telling you that trip up to the Finger Lakes packed a wallop. Wow. Or should I say whoa?

Shalom.

The look on my face says it all. This thing is NOT a camera!!

Surprised

Taken in mid-September, during a downpour.

I feel censored! I feel stuck! I feel as if an important appendage has been cut off!

My camera died and replacing it is turning out to be more of a project than it has been in the past, hence I'm camera-less for a few days. May I be honest? I'm kind of freaking out.

Ha.

What I'm getting is that my brain has mapped itself to think in accordance with the process of me walking around and taking pictures. Somehow these activities have been braided together. Pulling out one of the components, in this case, the camera, has been rather tragic. It's alarming and also hilarious.

Of course I'll get a new camera. The first day I have time this week I'll figure it out either at a very nice camera shop in DC or over the internet. I've gotten great suggestions and advice from family and friends. In researching I'm realizing how important this tool is to me. Instead of buying another of the same without a lot of thought about it, as I have when my old cameras died, I'm thinking about what kind of tool would best serve me now. I'm being choosy. This is evolution and also it is unsettling.

And funny.

A few months ago I worried because I felt called to listen to really weird music, like Korean classical music and Bollywood, for instance. I thought this behavior might signal some kind of pathology. A dear one suggested I might be trying to shake loose some cobwebs in the dusty corners of my mind/heart. He was spot on. And now the shaking, the loosening of cobwebs continues.

I'm exploring the connections between photography and my mind - because I have to. I am camera-less! Yikes!! It's interesting and unnerving.

And funny!

Shalom.

An "old" picture from a few days ago.

You may say I'm a dreamer.

In last night's dream, I was being taught how to use spheres made from glass and jade for healing. The night before that I dreamed I was receiving a tattoo of the dove from the biblical story of the flood, the dove that returned with evidence of land. The tattoo was on my breastbone, dead center between my breasts. The funny part was waking up to discover a mosquito bite there. It must have been itching while I slept, but still.

I could go on. I've been dreaming like crazy lately and these dreams have a very different quality than my usual nighttime programming. Problems I often have in dreams are solved and I'm contending with something new. Instead of searching for my car in the dream, I'm in the car. The other night in the car, an old lady was behind the driver's seat. I wanted her to stop the car but she was driving back up to the finger lakes. When I demanded she stop, she said, "You're no fun." Ha!

Coincidentally this string of powerful, numinous dreams is simultaneous with my reading of Robert Moss's Dreamways of the Iroquois. I'm learning a lot, especially in terms of shamanic perspective. For instance, he talks about how our animal spirit guides hunt for us. I always thought I had called for them, asked, prayed for their assistance. I thought they heard the call and came to help. I believe in a reciprocal multiverse, but had never thought about it before. It's true that every one of my animal guides presented itself to me. They must have been looking for me. It's entertaining to think about.

One thing I find tedious are the chapters of personal narrative - how he came to be a shaman, especially. Who cares? Even more tedious are the numerous anecdotes meant to prove he's a REAL shaman. I do not need convincing.

Still the book is inspiring me to dream many fantastic dreams. According to the Iroquois, that means I'm a REAL shaman. Hell yeah. I'm down with that for sure!

It's another perfectly beautiful early fall day in DC. I'm out of here in a minute to walk and wonder about my dreams. Tonight I'm cooking dinner for friends. The city has settled in the aftermath of the mass shootings. We got over it rather quickly, as a city. These mass shootings are part of the American experience now; we have to adapt. But how sad.

May you stay away from crazy people with powerful guns!

May your day be sweet and dreamy. Shalom.

I hate guns

The problem I have with the Law of Attraction is that it makes it seem easy, as if all you have to do is focus clearly. Sure, sure. Focus clearly and everything you want will come to you in the blink of an eye. Really?

The mind is powerful, it surely is.  But, umm, everyone's mind is powerful. When I think of the traffic jams of competing wishes and prayers out there, clogging up time/space like the Monday morning commute, I have to laugh. It's a wonder anyone's dreams ever come true. For heaven's sake. Oh that Abraham Hicks - he is a consummate snake oil salesman.

I dream of a U.S. that is not gun focused, gun centered and gun crazy. I've visualized it clearly so many times. I have prayed, I have called on the angels and wise ancestors to help us. My focus increases after mass shootings, of course, but I live in a violent city. It's always on my mind.

It's not just me. I'm not the only one who wishes we could slow the number of gun related deaths in the U.S. But the grip of gun madness is intense. None of these murders, even of the school children in Connecticut, seems to put the tiniest dent in the madness. Gun madness is a powerful demon served by many Americans. It scares me.

Of course I'm thinking about it in the wake of yesterday's mass murder shootings at the DC Navy Yard, about a mile from the chateau.

All morning the sirens wailed as police, EMTs, fire trucks and other emergency vehicles raced up and down 8th street. At first I thought, summer is over. But after awhile I realized something horrible must be going on. Sadly, I was correct.

In the U.S., guns are at the center of a very creepy cult. Gun people are scary. They would rather have everyone heavily armed, including people who are crazy, than allow for the wisdom of restricting access. They are slaves to their guns. There is nothing rational in the way they talk about guns. Scary.

Today I'm going to turn around my anger and instead try to send healing to the families of the victims. I'm lucky to have the day off. I'll walk and look at the beautiful blue sky. I'll go grocery shopping (one of my favorite comfort behaviors) and cook something delicious. I might make an apple pie, too.

I will give thanks that I was safe yesterday, that I didn't happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will dream and pray that as a nation we wake up to this disease of gun lust, try to turn it around. I don't believe in the Law of Attraction, but I have to pray. I just have to.

Shalom.

That's the chateau reflected in my coffee cup.

Ain't misbehavin'

I thought about bad behavior yesterday as I walked around. It's an appropriate train of thought on Yom Kippur, after all.

One thing I often wonder about is whether animals have within them an urge to be better - whatever that means - like we do. Do dogs reflect, for instance, on how they could have peed higher on the tree or think to themselves they should have barked more loudly at the mailman? Dogs do feel remorse, but it seems more like they're unhappy that we're unhappy. Dogs appear miraculously unashamed of their behaviors.

They say horses are psychologically a lot like us. Do they think about standing tall, running fast, or are they more zen in the moment of their behavior? It's obvious that some animals have very complicated psyches. From what I hear about elephants, they might be into self help like we are.

We humans are way into the idea of striving to be better - smarter, more accomplished, famous, rich, beautiful, etc. Is this instinctual, too? Is it a form of pack hierarchy behavior?

Clearly I've done a lot of thinking about our striving to be good. Likewise I am always entertained by thoughts about what we consider to be bad behavior. I'm not talking about the extremes of evil. That is a pathology of imbalance. Sometimes I think we look to Hitler, et. al. in an attempt to diminish the shame we feel about our relatively mild misbehaviors. Compared to Hitler, most people are angels!

Everyone lies, steals, kills (the food chain is a bitch no matter how refined your diet might be). Everyone cheats, manipulates, gossips, argues. As with everything else we humans believe somehow, if we just try hard enough, we can escape normal human behavior. Or maybe we just think we should try.

I think we have to try to be kind, compassionate. We have to try to acquire wisdom. I don't hold out for shining perfection from any of us, but that should never stop us from trying. I am not a cynic. I like it that humans are complicated, that we struggle and try so hard to be good. I love our pangs of conscience when we've behaved badly. We are a noble species, by and large.

One thing that came to me yesterday is that almost all of my bad behavior, through my sixty years, has been the result of fear and/or a stomach ache. The one major exception is the soul loss period when I was bound up by doing way too much magic. It's interesting to think about.

A glorious Sunday to you complicated humans. Shalom.