The Energetic Connection

Inner Journey: Mysteries of Physiology

September 3rd, 2010

A few months ago I visited my brain during a core shamanic journey. While in there, I was guided to “just experience” the waves of electric blue energy pulsating from the center of my head out into the rest of my body, through all the physical and subtle energy channels inside me, and in between the layers of my aura.

It felt a lot like lying in the surf line in the warm summer waters of Hawaii, looking up at the starry night sky with a huge Full Moon hovering over the crest of the waves. Floating effortlessly, allowing the tide to pull me in and out, gently rocked, surrendering to a greater rhythm, it was truly an unknown source of connection.

Existential, though not a delusional moment. Not a tangent, nor a hijacking of my consciousness, instead, it was a super-conscious moment. I remembered the feeling intimately, though I remained lost in the shadows of the unknown in spite of my common experiences.

I could make up that I knew what this connection was because I’d read a lot of philosophers, taken a lot of yoga, and I’ve spent much time with many different spiritual teachers and mentors. I could tell you I’ve studied the discourses, intellectually, and have even had a few real life experiences of this unknown source. Even so, it’s still unknown at it’s essence, and may remain at that distance forever and ever. I just don’t know, though it doesn’t stop me from talking about it!

Curiosity is my constant companion so my questions breed interesting thoughts, experiences and states of being.

Back on that day, I was floating along on the inner indigo sea and my mind wanted to know the source of this phenomenon and my connection to it, both inside my body and outside in the Universe. “Where is God?,” my mind kept asking this over and over. Those thoughts were disruptive and a little distracting, yet I could still subtly feel the ease and the experience of that unknown blue expanse.

As seems to be the norm during journeys, I had also received a message which is often visual, sometimes audible, and all the time a sensory thing. I felt it on my neck, twitching as though a baby daddy long-leg bug was wandering happily and carelessly over the surface of my skin. Brushing it away to awaken myself, I immediately wanted to go back in there again, to build on that sensational mini-burst again.

Somehow I knew the flinching and twitching marked the beginning of the reformation of my neural network, in it’s earliest glitchiest stage. Addicted to all things mentally expansive, this mind of mine was being restructured into something more balanced with heart. I breathed into my chest to feel how real it was.

Pretty real, I’d say.

It’s been a long time coming, this heart evolution, and my new adventures seem to be so much more subtle than anything I’ve experienced thus far, even energetically over the years. Every tool I’ve used to lull myself into what I thought was “this place,” had basically and only been a stepping stone into greater levels of the deep blue sea inside me. This sweet moment in time will expand, as certainly as I can muster the patience and trust for its gestation. More sensitivity; more heart. I do know that.

And even though this journey was primarily sensate and visual, I often receive verbal sentences and instruction as well. That day my guide told me my “phrenic nerve was impinged.” Physiologically, this very crucial nerve connects, and communicates between, the brainstem and heart, the brainstem and diaphragm.

A narrow information highway, it passes through the bossy support muscles in the front of the neck, under the collarbone, almost piggy-backing with the afferent and efferent tides of the rivers and streams running red with life. It makes its way into the thoracic cavity where the central pump automatically regulates both blood and its breathy sibling, without thought or even intention. The energetic signature and matching components integrate in a complex circuitry to distribute the purest gold of chi and related life force energies.

Chicken or egg? Heart or mind? I don’t really know what comes first, what is most important, or how they are balanced. And as much as my mind would love to linger on the possibilities, the science and interrelatedness of it all, my soul doesn’t really want to spend the time “figuring it out” any further; not now anyway. One day it will simply come to me in a picture or an epiphany; the soft message of my inner voice transmitting a hello from God and the heavens above.

“Just experience the deep blue sea inside of you,” that’s what my guide said to me at the end, right before I floated up from below, through the roots of Methuselah into the shimmering, diamond light fragments peaking through a kaleidoscope of branches, always touching the sky above me.

Inner Journey: Elements of Humanity

August 30th, 2010

Realization. Ownership. Commitment. Discipline. Accountability. Responsibility. Conservation. Ethics. Exploration. Danger. Risk. Actualization. Manifesting.

Place these words in a basket together, mix them up, jostle them around. What do you get?

It looks like a bushel filled with possibilities, yet it could easily become a reason for resistance, failure and retreat. Compiled, they make a sometimes indecisive and awkward state of beingness, like an infant, half in and half out of the birth canal.

Take a closer look. Just out of reach, they may be the elusive and coveted qualities of someone challenged by a constant urge to go backwards, back to bed, back to the barn, back to the comfortable known world. Acckkk! Run. Run fast!

And, these words in a nice ribboned gift basket could also be the cursory mantras of the person who, instead of falling into the well of urgency to succumb, gets a boost with a few reminders or affirmations to help move things along. Somehow though, they know there are going to be some pretty big risks.

These words do represent the stepping stones to the ultimate prize: enlightenment and beyond. Yet here, it’s still fairly far off in the distance, maybe past the horizon, as there are still plenty more boulders to hurdle along the way. Stand back a bit and watch one of the biggest walls as it’s torn down. At the very least, there’s no longer a need to stand up and fight for freedom, not in this way, anymore.

Breakdown and breakthrough! Freedom is just around the corner, yet before you turn that bend, for a moment, just be still.

This is a time to savor the moment, to be okay right here. It’s time to breathe curiously into your heart, where luscious breeding grounds birth plenty little seedlings growing from deep within the cells of your blood and bone marrow.

It is a time to turn fear into trust, committing to uncovering a life of brilliance, to successful spontaneous activities, integrating your body, mind and spirit. It’s time to prepare for your journey up the golden rungs of the ladder toward true manifestation of life as a spirit fully anchored in a human body.

It is time to listen closely and answer your inner voice. It’s time to embrace and express your soul’s vision and purpose here. It’s time to uncover what lies beneath even your darkest shadow material.

It’s the time to know thyself, embracing your birthright, a creative and powerful human grail. It’s time to listen to the God and Goddess of your heart. Can you hear them calling? They’ve been calling for an eternity.

Stop for a moment and listen to the breeze. There’s a message on the tail of that wind, right at the end when it begins to quiet and dissipate.

Stop again for just a moment to feel the inherent potentialities for warmth and transformation lying latent inside your spine. There’s healing in that fire.

Stop now, in this moment, to cool and saturate yourself with the fluid nature of your blood, your lymph and your Chi. There are forgotten memories and true devotion in those waters.

Stop, stand still, and rest. Burrow yourself deep inside your inner cave, the one that feels like the Great Mother’s womb. Roll in it, coat and blanket yourself with the musty smells of earthen soils and mosses. There’s new life about to be born once again.

Inner Journey: Redwood Dimensions

August 27th, 2010

When manmade noise abates and the whispers of nature become musical expressions in simplicity, the question of dimension arises, only because the line between sleeping and waking is more apparent then.

It must be dusk.

Walking down the trail, time, even seasons, are elusive among the majestic Redwoods and loyal Madrones. Mere minutes separate us from the city drones, yet this walk is like a trip into before when the sounds of horses hooves pounded out the smells of earthen moisture dwelling underneath the dust. In a moment, it can shift the obsession of achievement into accidental vulnerability and soft focus.

With a fast and steady pace, the heart rate quickens, challenging oxygen uptake, ultimately stimulating the endorphins of any hiker, elite or novice.

Try a sauntering pace, take time to look up before the light is stolen by night. Redwood branches and foliage scrape the sky–the view is dizzying–carving out a kaleidoscope of shapes and tones. These old souls somehow influence consciousness.

And the luxury of drawing breath goes mostly unnoticed, yet eventually opens a door allowing fragrance to sachet through the senses. Gentle as the breeze, it flows in and then out again.

Darkness advances.

The big old eucalyptus tree creaks like a rusty hinge on an old farm gate in the gloaming wind, always mysteriously half open. Coyote and bobcat eyes peer out from within the brush on the ridge top as humans depart and the lifeblood of this sanctuary, everything authentic, waits for the footsteps to cease.

Nature’s daily expiration crosses time, cooling the light sheen of warmth and moisture on skin, now thin with sensation. Intrinsic excitement explodes into goose bumps, frosting its surface as this coupling of life’s forces gives birth to enchantment.

Night has come.

Inner Journey: Heart Walk

August 26th, 2010

It was a soggy November morning, one of those cool, rainy days, and my closest ally. Walking barefoot through the rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula was so incredibly freeing, I had direct access to everything through the soil, the wind and the moisture around me. In water-soaked lands like these, I am able to turn up the heat, stoking my inner fire until the blue flame of transformation burns bright. This is most natural for me.

Outside the dense entangled entropy of dark vines, roots, stumps and trunks, the rain pours down like a jungle waterfall. Under the protected tent of those treetops though, the intermittent quarter-sized drops chuckle as they plop onto my head, splat over my face and feet.

Twigs and soggy dross, shiny little sand-like pebbles, a few bugs and worms, the mixture squishes like a cold slush between my toes. My tender human footings are wide and tentative here as they morph into shallow root beds like salamander’s feet. Widening with each plunge and grasp, the wet compost cements my toes into web-like flippers that propel my body forward. Heel down, toes up, ball down. Rolling through, toes curling, easily pushing off on the balls of my feet.

Inhaling the damp air, I feel a watery sheen slide under my gills and across the soles of my feet. Inspiration, grounding, swimming. Soon the water rises, a pulsing, bubbling spring, its mouth a gateway at my arches. It purposefully carves a river in my legs, pools deep in my pelvic bowl, awakening life in my kidneys which bravely ride the wave like little kyaks on its fountainhead. Once the water soaks my spine all the way into my brain, I am filled with the kind of clarity only the mist and a brisk walk can bring, soon exhaling right back down to that soaked forest floor.

Feeling the earth’s heartbeat, I synchronize my own rhythm as I touch my heart. Breathing, anchoring and balancing, a cool head opens a warm heart. Disguised as rain drops, the orbs dance around me calling in the other little beings who hide in the depths of this sparkling density. My soul speaks a little louder now with each breath and I savor my spiritual freedom, like a drop of water on parched lips.

Walking is the most effective way to engage and balance our brain’s coordination patterns in the cerebellum. In reflexology, the balls of our feet are mirror images of the lungs and heart. Improper alignment, poor body mechanics and weakness lead to callouses and tissue build-up protecting the middle of the foot ball, right there over the heart and lungs. There are two potent gates of chi just below the mid point on the ball of the foot called Bubbling Springs. They are kidney points and also feet chakras.

Breathing in, now breathing out. Simple, joyful. Life is brilliant here.

Innerworld: Gateway

August 25th, 2010

One last stroll through the old neighborhood, I revisited everything I was, and dreamed about everything I wanted to be. That Fall day I remember it tasted a little like Kimchee on wild rice: sweet, sour, hot, sticky, even a bit slimy and salty, creating just the right blend of texture and spice.

I remembered how I used to stand at the top of the stairs, waiting for something or someone to push me down. I didn’t trust myself to go any further then and certainly didn’t trust the Universe to make sure I was safe now. All projection, plain and simple, I still really liked toiling endlessly each day to make everything perfect.

Who needed the Universe anyway?

Ever striving to set things in motion had its benefits. And I could practically pinpoint each one of those benefits and situations through adulthood. I usually got exactly what I wanted in this very manner, until it slowly stopped; and even though this train had been arriving for a long, long time at this point in life, I continued to disregard just how in control I actually was, every breath I took.

My adjustment was pretty stilted and the stakes were getting higher at the same rate of speed my train was breaking. I was about to be thrown through the engine’s windshield. Lucky for me, at least my desires were morphing and now I wanted something more hidden and way less tangible, something not acquired by doing and moving faster than a speeding bullet.

ALL STOP! At this station, there’s no place left to go, but into surrender. I was so tired of controlling my breath and heartbeat anyway, and I almost let go of the controls for a mere moment. Just long enough to be afraid, in the end I was still driving that train, releasing the brake, rolling right through the opportunity to disembark.

By the following Summer everything had shifted and my train did stop. Early in the season I ached for that past because it was familiar, and cried for the loss of it. Waking up one morning in August, though, I felt alive in a very profound way. My heart beat rhythmically all on its own. Even the idea of letting go had never been my constant companion, so here, much later, I had just started the real journey.

As I tossed away my effigy, the residual mists of the past lifted. I could see an archway of trees marking a path I’d never walked before. My heart leaped. And yet my mind was distressed, trying desperately to override the new and spontaneous command more aggressively than wind frantically funneling through the Golden Gate in Springtime. It was now up and buzzing around me like the whining of a small tornado.

“What if I loose everything?” I screamed inside with worry as clothing was torn from my body in that whipping wind. Standing at the gateway to what felt like certain death, I allowed myself the extra moment to debate the merits of entry. “Am I crazy…who wouldn’t go in?” Fear. The perfect gargoyle of self-deception.

Ignoring the monster, I awkwardly walked through into complete darkness. I immediately looked upward, frightened and ravenously breathing in moist air as though I’d been buried in a dusty old ghost town for several lifetimes. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a spot of sunlight breaking through a canopy of giant trees…a kaleidoscope of chaotic tree branches way, way up there. It was dizzying, almost like moving through time.

Too much sudden lightness, I hung my head to let the blood flow again and began shuffling through the entropy of leaves on the ground. I devoured the smells as I churned them up. “This path seems easy,” I noticed as it spiraled around huge red trunks. Clover blanketed the ground; lichen, looking more like a sea weed, swagged from branch to branch. It only grows in completely clean air.

I was totally alone and uncertain in there, yet the easy walking pace transported me deeper into the trees, deeper into my soul. As I wandered around inside myself for a while, I reflected on my body in nature, nature in relation to the planet, the planet as a fractal of the Universe.

It was all very esoteric, pushing on my existential panic button.

Greedily I sucked in every molecule of courage from the air around me, using all senses to listen to my tiny and soft spoken inner voice. There in the woods, I could honor my dance with the elemental rhythms. It was both new and old; I was instantly at home.

All the tree and plant bodies blurred as I moved to the sounds of Earth’s tides and the beat of my heart. I saw nothing; I heard nothing; I only felt the precious bond of my soul swaying with those trees, that ground and all those fresh smells.

Too quickly I was alone again, back at the gateway, now looking to the heavens. A light rain washed my face and I smelled the dust turn to mud between my toes.

Luminosity breathed in me like a zephyr, imprinting its vivid mandala of life. Birth and death were at its core–the natural rhythms of inspiration and expiration, and its signature was identical to the fire burning inside me those last two years.

The last vestiges of my shield were liquefied by that heat, feeding the ground beneath my feet. I finally remembered why I was there, naked, cloaked only in my own austerity, wisdom and devotion.

I awakened from the old, into the new, knowing these sensations are eternally universal.