Todays' exploration took me into prehistory. The images were confused at first: I saw a high-country hillside, no trees in sight, just lichen and low flowers and scrub, no more that a few inches high. I had quite a view down into a valley but there were no trees, anywhere. When I tried to see myself, I saw different sets of legs and feet, some with beaded moccasins, some with simple hide boots, some bare. I saw a beaded skirt or long shirt, leggings, and bare, hairy legs. For a brief time I was a native american with beaded buckskins and long black hair.
It took a while for the image to settle down, and all that time I kept seeing a pair of legs, sometimes in legging, sometimes bare, perched on a ledge on a wall of blue ice. I could not see any higher than the waist. That picture repeatedly showed up in the background, as the foreground details shifted.
Finally the image settled down. I was a middle-aged man in firs, with bare, hairy legs and feet. I was standing on the same mountainside covered with rocks and stones and small, upland plants. I was standing, tired, leaning heavily on a staff or wooden spear, looking back down to the valley in anger. I was too old and useless. I wasn't wanted any more. I no longer had any family. I never had a mate or children and I suppose any parents or siblings were also gone. I was of no use and was walking up the hill to die. I had no choice, I had to leave, but I was still angry that they made me go. I could have helped them in other ways than just hunting and physical labor, but that didn't matter. They considered me a waste of food.
After that scene, everything went gray, I was dead. I asked what that purpose of that life was, and got "patience." I'm still pondering that. He spent his whole life waiting for something, and it never arrived. I wonder what he was waiting for? I wonder if he knew? Waiting to recognized maybe, recognized for talents that were different than the rest of his group? I sense that there was something different about him. He was big, but not too quick? Maybe he had the ability to learn and remember, but the group was too near starvation to value those qualities. I sense that he was alone, within his group, and in a very lonely world.
I see a parallel here with my current life. I spent most of my time suffering under the delusion that if I knew enough of the right things, I would be useful, respected and be happy. It took me nearly 50 years to figure out that neither knowledge nor things make you happy, and knowledge only makes you useful until the next smartass comes along who knows a little more than you do.
I'm still trying to find my footing in a world where having is not important. Doing and being seem to be what matters. Actually, it's being, and then the doing that naturally flows out of that. I'm still getting used to the idea that a seemingly minor positive word can cause people to react in surprising ways. I think I was always afraid of saying something because I was worried that it might look like 'sucking up,' or phony. Complements don't need to be fancy or carefully worked out. A simple "nice job" can mean more than the most eloquent complement, not delivered, or delivered insincerely. A simple, honest, good word, is all that is necessary.
I learned a few more things today also. One was that I tend to hang onto energy and not let it out, so that when I do energy work, it comes out in strange, physical, ways. My job now is to learn to let it flow through me, to heal or do whatever else needs to be done. I'm thinking that's why I'm cold around the edges sometimes. It comes from keeping the energy bottled up in my core so it can't flow out to my hands and feet. I'm afraid that if I let some go, I might not get enough to replenish it. As though I had any real control over that anyway.
That makes me think that's why energy healing never worked well for me, I just couldn't let the energy flow. I have a feeling that the energy has to come from somewhere, to go somewhere, and so I need to store it up, to be safe, for there might be a shortage. Seems silly, but it really fits with my mentality, so it bears looking into. I know that I don't have say in where the energy comes from or where it goes, that I'm more like a lens that a battery, but, deep down, my old, materialist, nature sees everything in it's dualistic, one-to-one, cause and effect way. And that is something I need to address every day, as I peel back it's metaphorical fingers, one by one, to loosen it's grip on my nature so it can shine and do good work my small corner of the world.
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