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Saturday, October 29, 2016

spectaculous

Hello!

 

Have you seen that place already? It's just spectaculous, you've got to look at it here http://bovaserdi.wordpress-florida.com/lnwsy/214

 

Hope this helps, Susannah Carlson

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Spirit Under Glass

Those who know me know that I go to a lot of MeetUps. Sometimes up to six a week. Hey, it gets me out of the house, it's generally fun, and I've now met enough people that I usually know someone wherever I go. A few months ago I made a new friend with an unusual problem and this post is about that problem. This is a cautionary tale, it ended well, but it pays to be aware that there might be "extra features" included when you buy stuff at flea markets and thrift stores.

There is one MeetUp that I'd been meaning to go to since I first came here, and then I finally found the time to go. When I showed up, only one other person was there, aside from the host, and it seemed like the host had suffered a mild stroke or something and didn't seem functionally present, so we pretty much talked between ourselves the whole time.

The MeetUp was a discussion group around the book Fringe-ology, and the other person was a older woman who had considerably less exposure to the paranormal than I had, but was curious. She had published a novel that included past lives and she thought she might have a spirit in her house. Long story short, I visited her house to pick up a copy of the book and immediately felt the presence of a spirit there. That was very unusual for me, I have never before have I felt such a strong presence. And it was centered around the stairs that lead to the second floor. At some point, I'm not sure when, I realized that the presence was actually focused at a glass display case at the head of the stairs.

We talked for a while and I did an exploratory session with her that established that she was a very good subject, going under quickly and with good visualization skills. We set up an appointment for a few days later to work on this entity. She was worried that it might be the spirit of her dead partner, who had died in the house, and wanted it gone. My plan was to use her as a surrogate to communicate with the entity, and find out what I needed to persuade it to move on to the light. Best laid plans and all that.

When the day arrived she slipped easily into trance, and readily contacted the entity. The session was short, so I've included the full transcript below, along with a post-session conversation where she told the story of the "figures," set of Kachina dolls, that she had bought at a flea market in Denver, and added further information about the entity that didn't come out in the session. I like having the full transcript because it provides the flavor of the session and how the information was uncovered.

I've cut out most of my instructions where they didn't add to the story. My words are in italics.

Start of trance session.

"I think he was…he performed, or he participated, in these ceremonies. He may have been one of the figures.

He’s not a great talker.

He’s not showing me very much. He’s saying that the most important thing is just to be.

What is his purpose in being here?

He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Why is that?

He’s been cutoff, somehow…from his life.

So, what happened?

He had to leave. Something awful happened. He wasn’t thrown out, but there’s something he can’t forgive.

Where was he?

Somewhere down where there’s sand, a desert. He says it’s a place where I’ve been. He’s telling me, “You know the place.”

Can he show you that place from your own memory?

He says I drove onto it. Oh, it’s somewhere near Santa Fe. No, no, he says, “You drove onto the reservation.” I’m seeing the reservation houses. They’re all sandstone buildings, and there’s no landscaping around them. They don’t landscape at all. I remember driving on to that reservation. Acoma, Acoma Pueblo.

What was it like when he was there?

Things don’t change.

What were the people like?

He says they were already breaking apart.

In what way?

They were leaving, they were going their separate ways. They weren’t coherent. Not as it had been when he was growing up.

How old was he at this point?

I not seeing…he’s not showing me that. No ideas are coming into my mind.

Ok. What was he purpose at that time?

He went out to catch an eagle. He was very much into the culture, and the traditions.

Oh, it changed. It changed a great deal when Los Alamos was started. He says that’s when it started. The Los Alamos project put a lot of people…strangers…and things are not the same. I see Santa Fe, as it was, [can’t understand]. He’s showing me Santa Fe, I can see it. There’s still horse carts on the road. And there’s the hotel. And everything’s adobe, it looks very different.

What was being lost?

[can’t understand], the sense of who they were. They sold out. He’s saying that they sold out. And he spoke up, in meetings. He said that they were selling out. But they wanted the money, they wanted the development. He said, “Is that who we are, sitting outside the governor’s place selling jewelry? Is that who we are?” He said, “What are you going to do next? Are you going to sell tickets to the festivals?” And so he left.

Where did he go?

He took a construction job. He went to Denver.

Then what happened?

I think he was killed. I think he was killed in a accident. And no one know who he was. And they took the things he had brought with him…and they were sold.

What are those things?

He had ritual things. He had sacred feathers, and pottery, and sand painting. And he had the kachinas. But there were more. And he says he doesn’t want to go back.

Go back where?

To where he started. He doesn’t wish to return.

His home? Where he was born?

Yeah, he doesn’t want to go back to the desert where he was born.

Perhaps it’s time to return to the Source?

He opening up his arms, to the sun.

Is there someone he knows and trusts, that has past on before him?

He said himself, he’s made a promise to himself. He says I cannot help him.

Help who?

Him. Whoever this person is. That’s why he…he says he is the wanderer.

What is his purpose?

I don’t think he knows.

What is the promise he made to himself?

Meaning. He’s looking for meaning. He thought he knew. He says, what he liked about me, is that I’m looking for the same thing.

Is he attached to all his old possessions?

He says, some of them are long lost. Some have been destroyed. These were the only possessions that came into the hands of someone who understood them.

What do you want to do now?

He wishes to do one, he says, one glorious thing. Something, that when he talks to the elders who have gone before him, something he can present to them that gives some purpose to his life.

What kind of thing might that be?

He wants to teach. He wants someone to understand the old ways. Because he said they are sacred, beautiful, ways. He says I cannot help him, but I can be useful to him.

How would he do his teaching?

He says he has already started.

Good. Who is he teaching?

He has attracted…He’s attracted to the ceremonies. That is all he’ll tell me. He says these are the sacred mysteries. He is in this house because it is a safe, supportive place for him, while he pursues the things that give him joy and make it possible for him. He means no harm.

..., how comfortable are you having him here?
I feel rather blessed.

Is there anything he could do to make it a little more comfortable?
Tell me tales. When I sleep, tell me tales. Tell me the stories that you would have told the children. He told the stories to the children, when they sat in the kivas. I can see now, the ladder coming down. And the smoke, you climb down through the purifying smoke. And the children, sitting cross-legged around him in a circle.

Coyote. He’s telling stories of Coyote…Coyote and the jackrabbit…"

End of trance session


The post-session discussion starts here.

Start of recording

"Do you want me to tell the story of where I got those dolls from?

Yeah.

It was in an antique mall in Denver. It was a big one, the biggest one in Denver. So you can just imagine the size of it. And, I walked in and, the only way you can systematically do something that big is to just walk the aisles. And, as you go by these places, where the people have their stuff out, you just, sort of get a quick idea of what is there. You don’t have to stop at all. And I got down to this one particular place and, just something about it, it was very jumbled, and something about it sort of said, “You should come in and look.”

And so I sauntered in and looked around, and for the most part, there was no rhyme or reason to it. Just all sorts of things thrown together. Then all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of one of these Kachinas, down in the corner. In this cabinet and to the back. And there were actually four of them, and I only took three. And, something called me very much to them. And so I had to go get the guy, the manager to come and unlock the case, so I could pull them out and look at them.

Initially I only took two. Then when I got them home, there was sort of a sense of incompletion. So I felt very called. I had to drive clear across Denver to go back. The other two were still there, and I took the third one of them. I didn’t care as much, I didn’t feel drawn to the forth one so, it still may be up there. That’s how I got them.

I brought them home and I cleaned them up and replaced the feathers on MudHead, and they came down from Denver and have been part of me ever since. That’s how they came into my life. But I only started realizing that there was something going on with them when I brought them here. (She currently lives in Vancouver, Washington) Particularly when [her partner] died, that was back in December, that was when I realized that there was something going on with them. They’re very much a powerful influence.

Yeah, the strongest I’ve felt, personally.

And he (the spirit we call the Teacher) is not angry, he’s not upset, he’s just passionate. He’s passionate about what he believes. He’s passionate about the importance of it. And he wants to do something…what did he tell me…something…

Wonderful…?

Something important. And I don’t think it really involves me, it’s more I’m hosting him, providing him a place to collect himself.

Or a platform to…if it’s…telling his stories and getting his information out there is part of the process. Perhaps when certain people see it, perhaps they might be drawn to it.
Well I think I will still see if I can send his Kachinas back. Because he is, despite his feelings, he is part of that. That pueblo. He may have left them and he may deny that he is, but he is. And if I can send them back then, perhaps, that will bring him some peace. But I think that even if I send them back, that he is going to leave. He’s found a comfortable and congenial place because I value the same things he does. And as long as he finds it meaningful, I’m not going to object too much to it.

But I can tell him that I would like that if he is the one that showed me that cavern, with the carved figures…when I did my own…

[instructions]

Generally I’ve tried to meditation, but I have so much static, so many people coming at me, that I don’t always really get through to that place of calm.

What do you mean, so many people coming at you?

I’m aware of presences, as I start to go down. I’m aware my husband’s talking to me, I’ve got my mother, I’ve got all sorts of wild things going through my mind. It’s very difficult to get beyond them. And this time that I did, I was shown the picture of a large eye. You know, the third eye?

Yeah, Ok.

And that when I went through that eye, into what was beyond, I think I told you there was someone with me, who was showing me? I found myself going through the light, going into a huge cavern, where there was…it was infinite. You couldn’t see the beginning or the end or anything. And I was taken into a side room, and it was almost as if somebody had a flashlight, or something was illuminating the walls. Because I thought that if this was the Akashic records…I was expecting them to be books, and in English. And it wasn’t.

All of the walls were intricately carved, almost like alabaster or marble, intricately carved with…it looked like Indian art. You know those three-dimensional friezes where they have all these figures? You know, east Indian, real India. You got these three-dimensional friezes of figures, often quite sensual?

Ok

And the whole wall, and the ceiling…you couldn’t see the ceiling, everything was covered with these intricate carvings, and I was told, this is your soul group. This is where you belong.

And that has always been an issue for me. Where do I belong? And so, essentially they’re telling me, “Stop worrying about where you belong, in the earth plain, this is where you belong. This is your group, so to speak. And that was very comforting. And the fellow that was with me, very reticent, very quite. I asked his name, and I got the message, “You’re not ready for this.” If that was him, then he could help me, if he wants to teach, then take me back. Show me, show me what is there. Because apparently he can also go backwards or forwards as he wishes.

End of recording



I think it's fascinating how the spirit taught her though pictures, even though she didn't know he was there. In the end the spirit left on it's own. He left her the understanding that she wasn't the person he needed to fulfill whatever purpose he had in mind.

This instance ended well, with the spirit comfortably gone and the dolls are now just regular dolls. It doesn't always happen that way: objects with energy or attachments of various kinds are out there and can cause significant trouble. Sometimes they can be cleared, but other times it's just better to get rid of them. One options is to send them to one of the Paranormal Museums that know how to handle and store these kind of objects in a safe manor. If you think you may have a haunted or cursed object, contact me and I'll see what I can do for you: AQuestioningSpiritTherapy@gmail.com.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

It couldn’t get more embarrassing, could it?

I started this post last week, but I finally finished it up today because it feels like I now have a context to put this in. People who know me know that I don’t like to post things like “I feel bad about this and I don’t know what to do about it.” I like to have some kind of closure around stuff before I write about it. Today I’ve reached a point where I’ve processed this enough to have some perspective on it, and I hope that what I found is helpful to you.



I just returned from a hypnotherapy MeetUp (East Country Hypnosis and Hypnotherapy, for those in Portland) It’s mainly for therapists or therapists-in-training, but anyone can show up. They keep it fun, but I also find it informative and challenging. This time I had a face-palm insight that has caused me to rethink how I relate to people, in a big way.

At this MeetUp, we usually focus on one particular topic or technique, with a short lecture, and a practice session where we pair off, taking turns being therapist and client. When I walked into this meeting for the first time, a familiar feeling came up, one that I didn’t acknowledge until tonight. I didn’t have a name for this feeling, and it’s not pleasant, but I just powered through it, as usual. The meetings take place once a month, and each time the feeling would turn on when I stepped in and disappear as soon as I left. It wasn’t until the meeting before this that I noticed how it was interfering with my ability to do the exercises: I was too busy being wrapped up in defending myself, by being glib and superficial, to access the feelings my partner needed to do her part of the exercise. I also notice how quickly that tendency disappeared once I left.

Note to self: Context is everything. If you are on any kind of self-improvement, personal-growth path, you know what I’m talking about. Just when you think you’ve got something handled and it’s all good, then, Bam! there it is again! You can get really frustrated and upset with yourself, and feel like you’re falling backwards, but it’s not that way at all. The same issue, (or issues that are very similar) can be linked to many different contexts, and only show up in that context. This is really important. You may think you’ve handled your social anxiety, but if you’ve only done it for family dinners, it can come up again at work functions, school reunions, restaurants, bars, and church functions. Each time keyed to different internal and external cues. I have gotten to the point where I’m pretty confident in social situations and meeting new people, but this group throws me right back to school, when I felt sure that I was the stupidest person there, and was afraid to say anything lest I be teased or, worse, wrong. I feel I have no trouble being open in most situations, but in this situation I can feel the vail of dumb descend over my mind as my defenses go up. I just know that everyone in the room is smarter, more skilled and knows more that I do. In this case, I even hit by the sights, smells and sounds of those college classrooms where I felt so inadequate.

This issue is really powerful, and one of it’s aspects is that I have to pretend “it’s all good,” while I’m furiously scrambling fake it, while hiding my ignorance and incompetence. Mostly by doing as little as possible until I can get out, hide, and try and figure it all out where no one can see me. Because I can’t think when anyone’s watching.

This really caused me to drop the ball at last month’s meeting, when I was the subject and couldn’t break through my “vail of stupid” to authenticity answer the questions. What’s worse, my partner was an experienced therapist who, I’m sure, knew I was blocking and resisting, I wasn’t fooling anyone, which made it even more embarrassing. She graciously let me off the hook, but it didn’t make me feel any better.



Exploring this issue more deeply I have uncovered a surprisingly deep well of fear and self-deception. I am so afraid of not being the smarted person in the room, because that’s the only way I can feel safe. I can play analyst here and say that this clearly goes back to being bullied and endless teased as a child. My defenses were to say and do as little as possible, to deprive them of ammunition, and to be smart and have clever comebacks. Now I find I can’t really trust people I perceive as smarter than me because I can’t be sure I will be able to see the attacks coming in time to defend myself.

Quite a pickle. The good news is that all this introspection has really turned down the volume on this stuff and I’m beginning to cut myself a little slack. What is, is. Deal with it, don’t wallow in it. It’s time to allow myself the same compassion I would easily give someone else in the same position. And, the funny thing is, now that I’ve gotten over the initial angst of making this discovery, I do feel better about myself, I’ve released some things in my life that didn’t serve me, and, all in all, I feel better about myself, strangely enough. And my relationships seem better as well, cleaner, purer, somehow. Maybe being less afraid allows me to show up more and just enjoy the experience.

As usual, send contributions and comments to AQuestioningSpiritTherapy@gmail.com.

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Shamanism 101

Today I started a course in Shamanistic studies. It takes years to get the stuff down, so I consider this just an introduction. I’ve had some training in shamanic techniques before, but that just scratched the surface, and I’m sure I’ll be digging deeper into this as time goes on. It really feels like following this path is the next step in my evolution.

This class went amazingly well. What that means for me is that I actually got what we were supposed to be doing in the journeys. If you don’t know what a journey is, think of it as a guided meditation. (That’s not really it, but you can find out more on the internet, so use it.) It wasn’t so long ago that this kind of stuff didn’t work for me. I was way too much inside my head to be able to feel, and way to self-conscious and worried about “getting it right” to let go and just let what happens, happen. It was a wonderful surprise to discover that I could be water, be air, earth and fire. Very cool. And I saw, and felt, that being air is how you fly: You become air, and just do what air does, up among the clouds.

As a little background, I’m been working on a post about fear. I completely rewritten it four times, and It’s still not ready. Maybe because it’s just a process I need to go through, maybe what I’m actually doing is changing my relationship to fear, not getting rid of it. More on the later, as it came up in my journeys. Before I talk about my journeys, I want to talk about what happened at lunch.

I didn’t bring any lunch, since the course paper work said that there was a place to get food “across the street.” Well, “across the street” turned out to be a mile up the road. And I was walking. It’s all good though, cause I had a good walk, once I got over the bitch’n. It was cloudy, with some sun, with an interesting wind. I was enjoying the wind when it hit me that I really enjoyed the wind. And this wind was saying “Hi!” It really seemed like an old friend. I have always liked wind, no matter if it’s soft and warm, or harsh and cold, or teasing and playful. I love clear air and a fresh breeze. Talking about this later in class, the instructor pointed out that air is the element associated with being in your head, and, boy, have I been in my head most of my life!

Since I had so much time to walk, I figured it was time to wonder why my feet were so cold today. That part was easy: Fear. But fear of what? It took some time to tease out the the answer, seeing how I had to fight for each word, but I finally got it: I was afraid that I would find out the real reason why I was so selfish. Who me? Selfish? I’m still wrapping my head around that. Here I’d thought I’d made real progress in that area, but, apparently, there is still much to learn. I have a feeling that that word doesn’t mean what I think it means.

I think we had three journeys. I can’t remember them all separately, so I’m going to tell it the way I remember. (I know, I should write things down. But I really don’t want to. I don’t have a good reason for that, I just really, really, dislike taking pen in hand and trying to write down how I feel. It’s much better to talk, next comes typing, which isn’t so bad, but writing comes dead last, in my world. I must have a lot of bad feelings wrapped around writing. From my childhood perhaps?)

I remember starting with an exercise where we tried being each of the four elements, earth, water, fire and air. That was fun. I’m not sure if I was actually being each element, but I sure felt like I was full, or made of, each element. Earth felt all peaty, like soil, water, cool, crisp and weighty. Fire seemed my least successful as I just felt energetic, but air was the most fun. I felt cool and light and transparent and ready to take flight.

Next, we went to the lower world, the land of essences, as I understand it. I went to find my “place,” and discovered a meadow of waist-high grass, along a meandering stream, inside a thick, pine forest. As I approached the stream, I found a clear area of dirt and lots of “Me”s: Many different instances of myself, all different ages and from different times, all different incarnations and realizations of the possibility that was me. Most were faint and ghosts-like, and payed no attention to me, but there was one who was solid and, lets say, mature. He was on his knees, working on something. A drum perhaps. And he seems angry or annoyed with me about something.

My mind has a real tendency to wander off, and this time was no exception. I don’t even know where I go. It’s just that I frequently I realize that I’m suppose to be doing something, or the instructor just said something and I can’t remember what I’m doing, or what the instruction means, because I can’t remember the context. That is why my recollections are always a bunch of separate scenes, punctuated by periods of amnesia.

Anyway, going to meet my guide: I was sitting on a log, with an ordinary-looking guy: thin, youngish, in ordinary clothes. Said his name was Allen. “Allen? Really? What’s your real name?” was my response. He just smiled a wan smile and shrugged. I didn’t get any further with that. At some point it occurred to me to return to the old guy and try and find out what he was so upset about. I had just started that conversation when the instructor called us back.

The next journey was into the upper world. That was my favorite. We needed to find a way up, and, since you can use whatever method you like, I picked a tree. There is a pine tree near my house that is very tall and straight and, when you put your head against the trunk and look up, it seems like it goes on forever. So I rode that tree up, into the sky, through the clouds, into space and into the upper world. I’m told that it looks different for different people, but for me, it was hazy with pastel colors. Sort of like walking on clouds. I found myself a bench to sit on, overlooking the world below. I had a sense that I could look down there and see whatever I wanted: The world, my life, my past, my future, other worlds, anything. At some point, I called in “grumpy old guy” to finish our conversation.

The conversation still didn’t get too far, but I learned a bit more. First, he was disappointed with me because of “so much fear.” It was my turn to be upset: This, after all the work I have been doing on fear? Anyway, I eventually got that there are fears that I’m so not willing to admit to myself that I don’t even feel them. I had just asked the question “How do I deal with fears that I can’t even feel?” when I ran out of time an had to come back.

Coming back was super fun, I just stepped off the overlook and flew down through space and the clouds, slid down the tree and “poofed” my feet onto the ground. I wish I could do that all the time! I wonder if it’s possible, one of these days, that I might get so comfortable with flying that I might just step off some high place, forgetting that gravity tends to have its own way, in this world, at least. I suppose I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I’m really looking forward to the next class. In the meantime I have a lot to chew and meditate on. As usual, send questions and comments to rodwhitehouse@ieee.org. Take care.