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Posts Tagged ‘energy’

Erasing Programs, Rewriting Software

Posted by Amanda Gray on November 12, 2014

I had this dream the other night:  Two busses in an underground parkaid.  One is in a well lit area, and as I walk around, a shadowy female body I’m with, tells me that it’s broken down and can’t be fixed.  I remember to myself that this was a bus I used to enjoy on tours with rock bands.  Then I find myself riding on a second bus, as a shadowy male driver tells me that he’s been instructed to park it where it can’t be seen, and he pulls into a narrow, shadowy spot in a remote corner of the parkaid.  Upon disembarking, I walk around and note that the parking spot is mostly enclosed with windowed walls, and that glare offers some additional obscuration of the bus.

My interpretation is this:

– Two of any symbol indicates a duality.  The broken down bus in the well lit area refers to a conscious decision I recently made to disengage with a particular duality that has caused me grief in my waking life for a long time.  The other bus, I’ll come back to in a minute.

– A bus symbol, as a community form of transportation, refers to a ‘journey’ I take with an organization or group, and the rock band ‘memory’ is the group I won’t be involved with anymore.

– The rock band, particularly glam rockers with black leather outfits and makeup – like KISS – are a symbol of my long held desire to be recognized in the world for my creative or performing ambitions.  It’s a rather powerful ego driven energy that craves attention, ‘scrambles’ in my mind for devices to achieve a very particular picture of how the desire may be satisfied, and yet, by experience, I know the desire, even if I achieve it’s goals, in whole or in part, will never abate, because it’s an endless, bottomless bucket.  This is the very thing I spent 14 years avoiding, denying, and trying to pummel down into submission.  Yet, energy can’t be killed, so it just gets divided into the subconscious and bounces around there as symbols of whatever’s not being expressed in my waking life.  So, just as I return to Vancouver, begin to let it free and start to express that ‘actor’ energy again in the world – trying to do it in a healthy, responsible way – it starts to produce this ‘scrambling madness’ quality in my mind.  I start to become obsessed with goals to get more attention, trying to make my body more beautiful to acquire what I crave, and yet then, constantly enraged at the body that’s clearly failing – getting too old and flabby – for the job!

The outer picture of my life showed me what’s happening in no uncertain terms.  It’s no coincidence that I went to a double feature at the cinema last week to see ‘Maps to the Stars’ and ‘Birdman’.  Both movies about famous people ‘scrambling’ to remain in the spotlight as they age.  Did I get the message from watching the movies?  Hell, YES!!  IN-FRICKIN-SANITY!!  Do I really want to pursue that insanity for myself?  Hell, NO!!  Then, a few days ago, as I recognized the scrambling thoughts arising in my mind, I made a concerted effort to say ‘no’ to them.  All day long, whenever they arose, I said, “No. Go away.  I’m not interested in you.  I’m not going to follow you or give any further energy to you.  I’m completely done with that.”  And I was.  And every time I reiterated my new desire to have peace instead of madness, the madness energy became smaller and smaller.  It seems to be gone now, and the dream indicated that it won’t be back, but I intend to be vigilant with even the most subtle risings, if they return.  This meinterstellar-movie-trailerntal effort is, I hope, the way to erase the energetic program and rewrite the software, once and for all.

– The other bus, being hidden in a shadowy spot, refers to a community association that isn’t known to my consciousness yet.  It’s on hold for the moment.  It tells me that I’m not going to be playing the duality – separation – game of the world anymore.  My new goal will be unified, from a unified consciousness, joining with others that share my core values, and moving forward for the highest best interest of the whole.  This symbol also reflects my worldly experience, because just that day, I’d had a job interview with a company that seems to reflect my core values, seems like something I’d like to do, and I could reasonably be offered the position… but they want a week to decide.  So, it could, potentially, be the community I’ll be joining, but I don’t know yet.  It’s on hold.  And maybe something else will arise in the meantime.  And maybe I won’t be offered the job in the end.  Who knows?

Another movie I saw the other day was ‘Interstellar’.  It also served as a reflection of desires within me.  Particularly, to be a ‘pioneer’ – an adventurer into the unknown.  I even used the word ‘pioneer’ in my job interview as I related how much I’ve always jumped at new projects, to enjoy exploring and learning new things, and to boldly go where no one has gone before!  This is what I do, what I’ve always done.  In fact, it may be that same ‘actor’ energy, from a positive perspective, as the motivator for my ‘role’, not just on a stage, but on the ‘stage’ of the world at large.  This experience we humans have is, when you really look, about worlds within worlds, dreams within dreams, stages upon stages, and reflections of reflections.  Isn’t it?

I have this vague feeling, like there’s something brewing on the horizon of my mind.  A cloud constellating around a bunch of ideas that have been floating innocuously about, and that, when they come together, in a crystalline fashion, they will create something entirely brand new.  A ‘vision’ for my life, perhaps.  A goal for the second half, perhaps.  I can’t jump on it too fast (although I’ve tried), because it’s still in parts and pieces so far, and I have to be patient, trust, and wait for the combining effect – the eureka moment.  Ugh.  It’s difficult for me.  I want to jump in!

Hmmmm… anyway… perhaps, perhaps….


ADDENDUM: 

I had a waking ‘dream snapshot’ shortly after this posting.  I’m distinguishing this phenomena from a regular sleeping dream.  I often refer to the parts of a dream that I focus on for interpretation as ‘snapshots’, because those particular images are like a still ‘snapshot’ in the whirlwind of multiple dream images, and they stand, somewhat, apart from the rest.  So, anyway, an image, just like the ‘snapshots’ I might glean from a sleeping dream, came to me when I was awake. It just popped into my mind and said, look at me!  It’s important here because it was also of a bus.  The bus was parked at the far end of a football field.  The open air stadium was empty of people and the sky was twilight.  The bus was parked perpendicular to the touchdown line, next to the goal posts, and had a big, neon blue, digital clock on the side, flashing 00:00:00.  Around the bus, were many other neon blue lights, flashing, as if in ‘celebration’.

Interpretation:  when I first thought of this image, I felt that it meant ‘touchdown!’ – like it was a confirmation that my activities of the previous day were a successful transition to my new community journey.  (I recently signed up with a website to do freelance voiceover work and have been submitting auditions like crazy.  And I’m feeling really great about the possibilities of the work.)  But, upon further consideration, I realize that it’s still a shadowy image, indicating information that isn’t fully conscious, and the bus is still parked.  I’m not on it.  I’m looking at it from far away.  And there’s no other people – no community.  Now I think it might be indicating the end of a game.  A game that I’ve been playing in my mind – the end of some cherished ideas about the world, my life and what it all ‘means’.  Do any of these symbols mean what I think they mean?  The Course in Miracles would say that all symbols are meaningless.  It’s only an attempt of my mind to put meaning on a thing that has no inherent meaning.

Lesson 1

Nothing I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] means anything.

Lesson 2

I have given everything I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] all the meaning that it has for me.

Lesson 3

I do not understand anything I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place].

Lesson 4

These thoughts do not mean anything.  They are like the things I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place].

As you see, it’s clear right from the outset of the workbook lessons.  So, however I attempt to interpret symbols, dreaming ones or waking ones, is it merely a fools game?  Because none of them mean anything?  And, I have to begin to see all symbols as the same – meaningless – in order to see past them to what’s real?  Dream-making, as I understand it, is the function of ego. Do I want to believe in dreams – illusions – or do I want what’s real?  Even if I don’t have any idea what ‘REAL’ is?

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Big Secrets and Professional Help

Posted by Amanda Gray on June 29, 2011

Yesterday, I went to a psychiatrist. I finally admitted to myself that I’m stuck, terrified, living, pretty much, like I’m dead, and that I need serious, professional help. The more I try to think about my life, the more the thoughts spin in predictable loops and result in further confusion, indecision, resistance and anxiety.

The psychiatrist, Pat, was nice enough. She warned me that she might say some things I wouldn’t like, and while I was sure that I wanted that, she did succeed in challenging me in a way I didn’t expect. I explained to her that I’m particularly frustrated in my work experience, and that I keep finding myself in jobs that press all my anxiety buttons and eventually lead to my resignation. I told her that I would prefer to stay unemployed at this time in order to figure out what I really want to do. She suggested that any job would be better than no job. I didn’t like that. Any job? Inflict my insanity upon poor, defenceless employers and co-workers? So far, I’ve been good at quitting with notice before any major disaster, but taking a job while I’m so stressed could easily lead to being fired. That wouldn’t be helpful. True, it isn’t necessary to project the past onto the future, but without a plan or a goal up front, before I act, just sets me up for the same old story. The cycle starts and ends with me. That’s where I’m willing and ready to address the problem. But to take any job… well, that’s what I’ve already done for 10 years and I’m confident that it’s not working for me or anyone else. More accurately, any job, I can take… a job – a LIFE – that I might want and care about… well, that’s why I need a psychiatrist. On the other hand, perhaps a solid ‘Suck it up, Princess,’ is more applicable than I’d prefer to admit.

Ah, now you see, this is why I shouldn’t think too much. I swing too wildly between extremes! My Course in Miracles lesson had good advice about that this morning: Lesson 4: This thought about _____ does not mean anything. It is like the things I see in this room, [on this street, out this window, etc.]. Whew. Ok. That helps.

Interestingly, the night before my psychiatrist appointment, I realized that there’s a deep ego need to get ‘the right answer’. So, in my session with Pat, I noticed that I kept making statements followed by asking her, “Right?” She was great; she never fell into the game. Is there ever a ‘right’ answer? Can another person, whatever their credentials or enlightenment, ever give the ‘right’ answer to me? Truly, a psychiatrist isn’t supposed to give answers, they’re supposed to help one find the answers for themselves.

Pat gave me an assignment that I didn’t like initially as well. She wants me to write an essay about who I am, right now. I balked, “Yeah, well, the short answer is that I don’t know.” She suggested that I might need to return to the dreams and desires I had in adolescence. Like my desire to get famous? Ha! That was a retarded motivation then, and it would be an even more retarded motivation now. Finally, I conceded that there were a few interests I developed more recently, and that I could write about. Yes, I can admit, while there may be deep holes in what I know about who I am right now, there are a few things I’m clear about. I see that the ego likes to make blanket statements like “I know” or “I don’t know,” keeping to extreme points of view, but it’s more balanced and reasonable to admit that I know some things and I don’t know other things.

So, I’ll write the essay. I’ll write from a stream of consciousness instead of thinking about it too much. Funny, I would never have imagined that a simple writing assignment could rattle me. I used to be so good at feeling the fear and doing it anyway! After all, in my teens, I skydived – not just once – but three times! I used to be fearless! I used to be enthusiastic and ALIVE! What’s happened to me???

This morning, I watched a highly inspiring TEDxSinCity video. It’s by a white South-African man, Bruce Muzik, who tells his big secret to the world – that he’s a racist. He says that it’s the secrets we hold onto that limit us, and that when we reveal our secrets, we release ourselves back to life, to ALIVEness. I agree with him, and I had to consider: Do I have any secrets? What would I still keep hidden from others? Is there something I’m still ashamed of?

Well… there is something that I was hoping to share with the psychiatrist yesterday, but she seemed more interested in staying firmly in the present. Perhaps that’s appropriate to her function – or for our first session, anyway. I’ve spoken about my big secret, in general terms, with my Mom and a few close friends, but I’m not sure I revealed the details that I’m most ashamed of. It’s also possible that writing about it won’t be enough, because it has to do with my mouth and speaking. Must I yet speak the details aloud?

Last week, it arose that I feared and felt ashamed about my ‘mistakes’ – mistakes I made in the past, as well as mistakes I fear to make in the future. I also saw that this was how I most commonly judged others, based on what I perceived to be their ‘mistakes’. It’s also related to the ‘looming disaster’ that I think will happen at work. What if I make a mistake that can’t be fixed, one that I’ll have to feel guilty about – forever? Yes, I have experience with that kind of mistake and that kind of guilt. There’s a particular mistake that comes to mind. One that I made when I was a child.

I’m getting a bit of a headache. Do I dare tell you? How do I put it delicately? Will you hate me? Will you be disgusted with me? Could you love and forgive me, even though I haven’t been able to love and forgive myself?

I was nine years old. It happened in the summer, between grades 6 and 7. My parents dropped me off to stay the weekend with a classmate, Joanne. Joanne had two older brothers who were about 16 and 17 years old, and, for whatever reason, Joanne and I were left alone in their custody. I’m sure there were adults around, at some point, but I don’t remember them.

The memories I did retain, and further memories that I recovered a few years ago, are jumbled. I don’t know the order of events, but I know that, at first, I was a willing participant. A child’s normal curiosity. A child’s normal innocence and trust. We played hide and seek. We played rock music and danced. They asked me questions and paid a lot of attention to me. I felt powerful and sexy.

I thought we were having fun. The enormity of my mistake became clear when I entered the boy’s basement bedroom and saw the younger boy sitting on the bed, holding a jack-knife, threateningly. He ordered me to take off my clothes. “No.” I answered defiantly, but a knot of fear twisted in my gut. Oops.

I was forced to give the older boy a blow job. I still feel the knife blade pressed up under my arm. “Don’t use your teeth,” the younger boy instructed. I still feel the pain in my jaw as I became tired and pulled away. “No, no, you can’t stop!” they insisted. I still remember the rancid smell of his crotch as I closed my eyes and submitted. I still remember my shock and surprise as he exploded in my mouth. They laughed as I spit out his spunk with disgust, “I didn’t know it would do that!” I complained. My chin was a sticky mess and they didn’t let me wash it off. It irritated and itched as it dried.

There were other tortures, far worse ones.  There was, at least, a whole day and a whole night of entertainments in their exclusive company. I’m sure that most are better left unremembered and untold. Yet, I’ve told you the ‘secret’. The secret of my dirty, disgusting mouth.

On the second day, the younger boy threatened me again, “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this!” I shook my head, crying, “No, I won’t. I won’t say anything.” I kept my promise to him. Even when he was charged with rape later the same year and my Mom asked if anything had happened while I was there. I said no. I lied to her. I kept my promise to him, though, through my whole life, particularly in ways that couldn’t be anticipated. Perhaps it’s why I’ve always preferred to write about myself instead of speaking aloud. It’s also perhaps why I’m particularly inarticulate if I’m asked to defend myself. My facial expression is often tight-lipped, and I’ve recently developed a relentless circle of acne around my mouth – a constant reminder of my ‘dirty’ face. Also recently, I discovered that I’m allergic to dairy. Hmmm… yes, milk, yoghurt and cheese are similar to the consistency of spunk. Dairy, as a symbol, isn’t lost on me either: denial of pleasure (dairy is a pleasure food), denial of nurturing (mother’s milk), and, by extension, denial of self-love.

If I was subconsciously keeping the promise I made that day, you might very well ask how I performed as an actress and spoke before large audiences on a regular basis. Yes, well, I was always fine if I was playing a part or speaking from a script. Speaking for myself – no, that was my limitation. As much as I was subconsciously compelled to keep silent, I was also compelled by the opposite extreme, to be heard. Also, I had repressed the trauma throughout those years. My more recent commitment to the Self and its full realization brought those memories to the surface, along with the concomitant fear, guilt, shame, hurt, and various bizarre physical maladies, in order to be expressed, accepted, forgiven and released. It sucks, but that’s how it works. When it’s at the worst, I remember that it’s what I knowingly signed up for, and I’m grateful to finally shed it.  It has no control when it’s in the open.  It has ALL control when it’s kept hidden.

My grade 6 class photo is of a thin, beautiful, sparkling eyed, and broadly beaming girl. In grade 7, she’s fat, with reddish cheeks, and a tight, closed mouth. The light has gone out of her eyes. I found a diary entry from that time that could be related: “The more I think about you-know-what, the more I hate myself.” A lifelong suffering of migraine headaches, including sensitivity to light, nausea and vomiting, began around the same time. My regular punishment and crucifixion, inflicted by subconscious guilt and self-hatred.

So that’s it. That’s my biggest, most shameful secret. Was it helpful to reveal it? Well, my body is now warm with kundalini energy, and I feel somewhat relieved. My forehead and neck still feel a bit tight, but not painful. It wasn’t so bad to tell. In writing, anyway.

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Spiritual Teachers: Marc Baur

Posted by Amanda Gray on May 22, 2011

In the winter of 1999, I moved to Vancouver, British Columbia.  I was there to ‘get serious’ about my acting career.  It had been nine years since I’d completed a two year Musical Theatre Program and I had done very little performing in that time.  I decided that, in Vancouver, it was possible for an actor to make an actual living at their craft, even if it meant doing a lot of film extra work.  I considered extra work, somewhat, below my talent, but I was tired of taking random jobs to make a living, instead of doing what I really wanted to do, and did best.  So, after nine years of procrastination, I was finally ready to take my shot at the ‘big time’.

At this juncture, it’s important to note that I had almost no religious upbringing.  I went to church a few times as a child, but just enough to learn that I had a strong, innate, resistance to Christianity.  Rote rituals seemed entirely foolish to me.  Even basic Christian language, words like God, Jesus, or saviour, were intensely resisted.  I simply couldn’t trust people who claimed to know something about God because they read a book (the Bible).  Early on, I decided: since I didn’t know, myself, if there was a heaven or a hell, a God or a Devil, I would simply be good, to be on the safe side.  Still, I was never far away from the subject of spirituality in one way or another.  As a teen, I briefly explored Wicca and other occult teachings, but since they were equally focused on rituals, I quickly decided against them.  Spiritually speaking, I was drawn, most, and for a long period of time, to channelled material.  First, during my teen occult phase, to a book (that I – not such a ‘good’ girl at all – stole from a bookstore) about an entity contacted through a Ouija board, called Messages From Michael.  The material was far too esoteric for me at the time, but I eventually read it through, as well as the rest of the series by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro in my early 20’s.  Just previous to my move to Vancouver, I discovered the Kryon channelling.  I read the entire series and met the channel, Lee Carroll, twice in person.

So, there I was, spiritually fortified, and following my dream in heaven-on-Earth gorgeous, Vancouver, B.C.  The world was my oyster and I was the shiny pearl at it’s very heart!  I didn’t think I needed to learn anything further about acting, but a prospective talent agent encouraged me to take some classes.  Since my definitive objective was to work in the film industry, I conceded that some technique would help me shed my overly dramatic theatre style and make me more marketable.  I soon attended my first class in a small, run-down office building near West Broadway and Arbutus Street: the Marc Baur Studio.

On Wednesday, February 9, 2000, I wrote in my diary:

Went to Marc’s class.  It was a super experience. I did an exercise that was an important key for learning not to scatter my energies so much.  I learned that where I think I am is truly where I am, where acting is concerned.

What?  Oh dear.  I think I meant that I could believe that I was, indeed, a talented actor, and ready for a successful film career.

And, yes, I was successful.  I went to many auditions, got some unpaid independent film roles, and hung out frequently in the audience at the Vicki Gabereau show.  I also did a few paid gigs, as an extra, almost immediately, but it wasn’t consistent.  In order to have free day time for auditions, and a job to pay the bills, I worked a few night audit shifts every week at a colourful Granville gay hotel.  Within a few months, I procured fancy new resume shots, signed with a reputable talent agent, and I was thrilled that my career was going along, tickity-boo.

In October, I started a ‘Being Real’ class with Marc Baur.  On Wednesday the 18th, I write about the first class in my diary:

For 4 hours we did vulnerability exercises and, while it was exhausting, it was a terrific learning experience.  Marc had brought pumpkin pie and I had 3 slices!  After class, a bunch of us went out to a pub down the street and had wings, fries and gabbed.  I had a really good night!

Excellent.  Ah, but little did I know that I was headed for a big ‘Being Real’ crash’ola.  On October 25th, I wrote:

Class was ok.  I was too tired though.  I almost fell asleep during the first scene presented and then was way too nervous when I did my monologue.  I had a good ‘therapy’ session though.  I did an ‘I’m afraid that…’ exercise and cried a lot.  It was cathartic and felt really good to release.

November 1st was pivotal.  I wrote:

I really wanted to be lazy, but Marc said I should do a cold read scene with Bob.  Well, that turned out to be a major surprise.  All my life I’ve been missing the boat in my acting – all of the sudden, I got ON the boat!  I learned how to find the emotional backbone of a scene, first, before intellectualizing it.  BRILLIANT!  It was also easy, effortless and real.  I could trust it, moment to moment.

After class, Bob, Marco, Rick and Elizabeth and I went to Subeez for nachos and gabbed.  They helped me see some things about myself.  Cool.

I remember, specifically, at Subeez, Bob pointed out, “You’re looking for recognition.” 

The same night, around 3 am, as I sat down for a break at work, I considered it.  Why was I looking for recognition?  And, why was it, that no matter how much recognition I got, it was never enough?  I was always seeking for more, and more, and more.  Like an addict.  Did it have something to do with my childhood? Yes, I was always an attention hog as a kid, but inside, I felt acutely invisible.  In fact, I could still feel it.  It was like I had a huge hole inside me, and that, for all these years, I had been running around, trying to fill it with attention from others.  In a shocking epiphany that would completely re-direct my life, I realized that, even if I became wildly famous, no amount of attention would ever fill that gaping maw within.  No matter how many people said, “Amanda, you’re awesome and the whole world loves you,” if I couldn’t believe it myself, if I couldn’t love myself, it would be useless.

The ‘Being Real’ therapy exercises effectively pulled a lot of my crap out of hiding.  In an ‘I feel’ exercise, I learned how to be intimate and connect with another human being.  In an ‘I’m afraid’ exercise, I learned that there were deep feelings of unworthiness and rage that I could never entirely stuff behind an actor’s mask.  By interaction with Marc and my classmates, I learned that there were also real qualities within me – under all the shocking and embarrassing qualities that I would rather have ignored – qualities of light and beauty.   

My teacher, Marc Baur, may not have considered himself a ‘spiritual’ teacher.  At the time, I wouldn’t have described him that way.  Yet, Marc was exceptional in his ability to fully accept and embrace the wide variety of personalities in his care.  He saw through to something brighter and more profound in each student, even if the student didn’t recognize it in themselves.  I’m sure that as Marc has witnessed individuals developing greater personal and spiritual depth through his class exercises over the years, he can’t be immune to the greater implications.  Perhaps he now also perceives his role through a broader lens, as I do. 

I touched Grace through those acting exercises, but I wasn’t ready to fully receive Grace.  I was being asked for more than I could, then, have given.  Frankly, it scared me, shitless.  I continued with the class into the new year, but I had less and less energy for it. 

Eventually, I lost all energy for everything.  I was turning and turning, within a box in my mind that was squeezing, smaller and smaller, but I could find no way out.  Unbeknownst to me, a clinical depression was setting in.  I didn’t want to be an actor anymore.  All I wanted… was to disappear.

(See Spiritual Teachers: The Ojibway for Part 2 of this series.)

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Kundalini Risin’

Posted by Amanda Gray on May 21, 2011

Holy backlash, Batman!  I expected to write yesterday, but I was kept horizontal by a massive headache.  It started immediately after I finished my last post and continued, at peak, for about 36 hours.

I suspected that the pain was ego backlash.  Getting too close to the ‘fire’ of truth again.  Since I’ve experienced headaches and migraines (headache accompanied by nausea and vomiting) for most of my life, I followed the usual routine for relief, including painkillers, hot showers, tiger balm, massage, and bed rest.  I prayed to spirit for help and asked various questions: Pain, what are you trying to tell me?  What am I resisting so vehemently?  My Course in Miracles lesson (140) for the day was:

Only salvation can be said to cure.

I didn’t eat any dinner last night.  On an empty stomach, I took two more painkillers, put a Dr. David R. Hawkins CD in my player, and curled back under the covers to gently cradle my head in my hands and lie as still as possible.

The CD that I picked, casually, off the shelf, included a question that I had asked Dr. Hawkins in person that day.  The Doc had reminded me that I was strong and courageous, and that I could take my spiritual work lightly.  I listened to the whole CD, then a few restless hours went by.  I was lightly snoozing when a thought spontaneously arose:

Who is it that thinks it can resist?

My brain softened, melted into liquid, and in a download, I knew that the resistance was, entirely, an illusion.  In the same moment, I also knew that it had been beneficial to skip dinner, that indulgence with food had been another method I’d been using to defend against truth.  I sat up on the edge of my bed.  The clock read 10:30 pm.  Kundalini energy flowed, like exquisite tendrils of warm electric smoke, around my whole body.  The heart centre was aflame, like a flat, 10-inch disc under the thin crust of my ribcage.  I knew it was the kundalini energy that was restricted at the neck and causing the headache.  Oh, right.  It had happened before.  I paced around my bedroom, crying with profound joy and gratitude.  Using some previous Dr. Hawkins advice, I tried to ‘breath the energy up’ through the blockage and into my head.  It didn’t seem to make much difference, but by then, the pain was already greatly diminished, and I went back to bed to sleep peacefully through the rest of the night.

As I write, I’m experiencing warm kundalini flowing across my back.  It’s lovely.  My neck is twinging and weak, like it’s not properly attached at the ends, but, otherwise, I feel better.   Just toasted a little at the edges.

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Posted in Physical Symptoms | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Kundalini Risin’

Who is it That Asks the Question?

Posted by Amanda Gray on May 19, 2011

Many teachers of enlightenment recommend the question:

What am I? 

I have focused a great deal of time on this question.  Yet, there’s a follow-up question that I’ve completely ignored: 

Who is it that asks the question?

If I’m asking what I am, it must mean I don’t know myself.  At least, I believe I don’t know.  How could I not know myself?  I’m IT.  I’m ME!  So, it follows that there’s some ‘questioner’ that thinks it doesn’t know.  There’s a split there.  A Self that IS me and a self that doubts that it’s me.  Why would I choose to doubt what I am?  Because I don’t want to know.  Ahhh….  At some point, I decided to reject my Self, forget that I did it, create a variety of false images and parts to play, attempt to live inside all these tight restrictions, and pretend not to know what I am.  On some level, I continue to know that all the images I’ve created are false.  That’s what instigates that deep feeling of doubt.  But I DO know what I am!  I’m ME!!  No labels, no limitations, no questions.  It’s not dependent upon a location, or upon something that’s happening, or upon a high energetic state. I can’t hide from it. It’s always right here.  ME.

Which means that it’s the doubter, itself, that’s false.  There is no split.  There is no question of what I am.  There is no ‘who’ that asks the question.  I never lost my Self.  I AM what I was seeking.  I am found.

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No One Can Fail Who Seeks to Reach the Truth

Posted by Amanda Gray on May 11, 2011

Today I seek and find all that I want.  My single purpose offers it to me.  No one can fail who seeks to reach the truth.
A Course in Miracles, Lesson131, Pg. 240

Last night, I listened to a recording by spiritual teacher, Adyashanti.  His teaching, like the Course in Miracles, is very direct.  It brought up some intriguing questions and inspiration:

  • If I’m waiting for the mind or my feelings to still, I’ll wait forever.  No waiting is necessary.  The truth – on every level of being (physical/spiritual) – is available immediately.
  • How is my apathy (anger, fear, etc.) seeing the world?  What would it say?  My apathy says, I don’t want to be here.
  • Then: Is it true? (That I don’t want to be here.)
  • Then, an inspiration: When did I first decide not to BE… HERE?  (Here, in the Self.)
  • Then: When did I first choose to hide my Self?

I’ve been working with this riddle of ‘hiding my Self’ since it first came up in a dream about a month ago.  Several of my consciously developed friends pointed it out as well, and I make it a policy never to ignore advice that’s corroborated by a couple or more sources.  I agree that it’s an important area to examine, but, so far, I’m not getting anything.  So, alas, it’s still percolating.  Perhaps the more direct questions, as above, will help further.

Adyashanti also said that the ‘instantaneous downloads’ of knowledge I’ve experienced on occasion, are natural to the Self, and that it’s actually natural to get them all the time.  Adya called it PRAJNA.  Yes, please, I’d like to have more prajna.  Continuous prajna.  That’d be awesome!

Also, after some further thought about the Course lesson from yesterday – about surrendering all value I’ve placed in the world – I remember that, yes, that is how it goes.  I had forgotten.  Of course, I can continue to play in the world, keep seeking endlessly for useless trinkets, and delay myself for eons, even, if I really want to.  But do I want that?  NOOOOO!!!  Because I really want the ONLY useful, meaningful thing there is: the Self.  I want to rest in the source, the ground, of my being.  It is, absolutely, the most important thing to me, but sometimes, it seems I forget, and then I have to re-focus and re-establish my intention. Adya suggested that it’s painful to leave the Self – and yes, I think that perhaps I’m conscious of that when I’m wandering and getting wrapped up in goofy worldly distractions.  Perhaps it’s related to a particular anxiety I’ve experienced lately too.  Perhaps seeking out in the world has truly become anathema to me now.  Well, that, or I’ve become agoraphobic.  So, really, I don’t know.  I’m just guessing.  Is it appropriate for me to relinquish the world at this time?  Is it natural to have lost most of my interest in it?  I want to take care that I’m not creating aversions, or rejecting it, or hiding from it, but it’s true that I see very little point in most worldly activities – and I don’t think it sees much point in me either, frankly.  That sounds funny, but it does seem to be letting go of me, just as much as I’m letting go of it.  So, it’s a mutual relinquishment.

Like my Course lesson says, I can’t fail.  Whew.  Good.  I’m really sick of being a total failure.  The spiritual path is sometimes difficult, and it’s certainly strange, but there’s nothing else for me to do.  Spirit has it’s own energy now and I simply need to follow… or I’ll be dragged.  Yeah, I think I prefer to follow willingly.

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