Outside of time

As my husband went into his diatribe about “time” this morning, I realised I had heard it all before (usually at this beautiful time of the year, when time feels so intrusive…) and yet, paradoxically, it had never felt more timely.  And where there’s paradox, there’s usually a waving hand of significance…

Perhaps there is something wanting to be noticed in our household from the fact that he feels more time-poor than ever just as I seem to be the least influenced by it of any time (ha!) in my life; or perhaps I am just noticing more because of the contrast. I contemplated this as he demanded to know why is it that, just as we reach lighter and more energised days of Springtime and are starting to feel all slotted back into place, catching up on the our sleep and firing on all cylinders, having only just survived the long-hard slog of February, we are then deliberately thrown back into disarray by the insistence of British Summer Time that it is now an hour later than it was a week ago, thus we must get up at dawn feeling exhausted again. Add to that the time-poor mentality that I watch permeating every aspect of life for those family members who still go “out” into the world and I certainly see his point. He constantly feels like he is borrowing from Peter to give to Paul in the time-management of his weeks; is constantly beset with the weariness of a man on a speeding treadmill…and the same for my school-age daughter.

We set this reality up, didn’t we, as the way to hold ourselves into the system of what was deemed important in an age now on the wane, time-marking the well trodden path from childhood to retirement. At that point (if we even make it that far…) its as though “time”, as we think we know it from all our social conditioning, is abruptly withdrawn from us, like we are no longer entitled to hold a membership card to its club, which sounds great on paper….But having been sold the idea that everything is about time all their lives, many people have come to believe, by their seniority, that they literally can’t live without time’s marching tune and don’t know who they are without its constraints. Many reach their long awaited retirement years only to flounder, like they no longer exist outside of time’s structures or in a world constructed by, and for, busy people; feeling dispossessed or even depressed. Frantically, they strive to recreate their own “terribly important” time structures as though to prove to themselves they still exist; or they just slip away through its cracks as though, without it, they have lost the very will to live, feeding statistics that tell us many people die soon after their long-awaited retirement. My father regimented more time structure into his retirement years than across all the combined years that preceeded them, when this was all done for him by life’s endless responsibilities (rise at 7, vacuum floor at 10, drink coffee at 11, lunch at 12, watch news at 1, quiz program at 4….), becoming the obsessive-compulsive inmate of his own non-negotiable time prison until the day he died. Why do we grip so tightly to it; don’t we all, at some level, realise time doesn’t really exist and that we have an infinite sea of experience waiting for us to claim it on the other side of its confines and, yes, within this lifetime?

To be fair, there are those like my husband who have woken up to that and would love to succumb to its alternate reality…only the weekends and holiday’s simply (oh irony) don’t last long enough. Bring on the gut-churn of stepping between realities come Monday morning, like all the turbulence of crash landing and the same sinking-feeling in the stomach. I am fortunate enough, and I know it, to have done so much to dissolve time structure from my world that I tend to work to Nature’s rhythms more so than to any time piece (and we are down to having just one of those left ticking in our house). Its been, oh, about 8 years since I threw away my last watch and the desire to unstrap from that thing was such a powerful impulse that overcame me long before my wake-up process began in earnest (or, perhaps throwing away the watch was a prerequisite, like unlocking a shackle from my wrist). As my recent post The Rescue Party of Myself stands testimony to, I have been having powerful experiences outside of time all my life yet its mostly been in the last half decade that I have come to notice this….and to give credence to those experiences as much, if not more so, than to those that I have within time.

Perhaps the fact that my other family members now do this too is what makes it doubly hard for them to dive back in to the so called “real” world structures of diaries and schedules; they find it irksome or even life-negating to have to kowtow to the collective madness that there is never enough time to do all we are told we need to do, that the time upon which all things apparently depend is the leaking resources that is somehow always  drizzling away faster than we can gather it for our needs.  It is this mindset that fuels an industrious workforce and has us all living like hamsters on wheels and yet realising the illusion of it does not necessarily provide us with an instant set of keys with which to unlock ourselves from its systems; that remains work in progress. And then time, of course, has speeded up dramatically since 2011; I think many of us have noticed that (and I have Dr Calleman’s work on “The Nine Waves of Creation” to thank for my new grasp of what was already such a visceral thing), which only adds to the frenetic feelings inherent in any attempt to continue pursuing a life in business or close collaboration with others on their own crazy schedules.

My schedule is the schedule of the seasons and the sun rise, the currents of my creative flow and the way synchronistic happenings conspire to direct me this way and that. I am sitting here, a rare thing at this hour, because the new family wake-up disturbance (the clocks having turned forwards) happened to coincide with the rising sun in my dining room…a perfect opportunity for me to tilt my chair to the window and enjoy those first golden rays as I type this. Once my overwrought family have dispersed, the house and my days slip into their own groove paced only by the rhythms of my creative urges or the light and weather inspiring my desire to sling my camera on shoulder and go for a walk, to paint or flip my laptop to create new designs, to write when inspiration strikes (not if it doesn’t), to do some admin, tackle the laundry, attend to my websites or my emails, to bake a loaf of bread, play the piano, do yoga, to stop everything and just read or meditate in a patch of sunlight on the patio, or whatever happens to assert in the most fluid of ways, which is as unpredictable as the winds…yet everything always finds its perfect “time”.  In fact I feel more productive, more razor-sharp, more-joined up and coherent than I ever have, ironically, for allowing this unstructured way of being to have its way and I get a vast amount “done” because I keep myself in my most creative, most inspired flow instead of forcing anything. I have dismantled all but the real necessities of structure from my world so that I can ride this wave of flux, following my muse…since it is onboard this wave that I find the most powerful currents of insight that fuel my “work”. Yet in the midst of what looks like an apparently formless soup, compared to most people’s diaries, I have had experiences that have been the most driven and inspired of  my life, telling me important things about myself across timelines that have super-accelerated my evolution and, yes, my business and personal life in ways that might otherwise have remained missed opportunities. I gave them room to express and their inspiration flickered up in me like a torch flame that would, at best, have been the pin-prick glimmer of a fleeting idea destined to be ignored if I was too busy or self-doubting to give it a hearing in a life more tightly structured.  Which is how we overlook so many of our most inspired ideas and, ironically, our greatest potential to achieve all those very things we chase after within the time-structures that, so often, shut our creativity down!

kari-shea-101978My husband sees this potential and longs to work like this too (days scheduled out of the office to work uninterrupted at home have repeatedly fuelled his greatest leaps of inspiration and progress…) however the business world isn’t well geared for this way of working at all…yet. He keeps getting reeled back into that office and a heinous timetable structure like a fish on a line and its so frustrating for him and so many other people approaching this hemispherical borderline where two realities meet and, they know, could be used in balance to make for even more productivity, more inspiration, more innovation and yet they feel tied down to a sack of heavy ballast filled with a zillion ticking clocks. This frustration (which stalls the most creative people since they rely upon stepping outside of time constraints and remaining sensitive to unexpected sources of inspiration to do what they do best) will just keep happening as long as the collective expectations of the world remain fenced into a solid time structure. To those of us who sense an alternative, this can feel like a maze of concrete walls as tangible (and prohibitive) as any block of prison cells affording no other view but the limited one of its own dreary corridors. Step outside of its structure and an array of all-new perspectives start to flow in, like that soft golden mist of the dawn that transforms everything from the night before; even the most work-a-day concerns of our lives start to look different once we soften those edges. This is the unlimited landscape that starts to present previously unnoticed solutions and a range of possibilities that far exceeds what we could ever have predicted from within the space-time reality.

The kind of powerful “a-ha” moments that transform whole realities in a single moment are like the meer cat of the mountain; they only show themselves once an insistence upon linear time has left the vicinity. Which is, ironically, when every one gets to realise we didn’t need time to have an experience; we insisted upon it to give a feeling of sides to our experiences, so that we  would have something to push against, something with which to compare and contrast one situation with another  in a sequence (I was over there, then I did that….now I am over here) but we can think of those sides as like trainer wheels which we can now do without and still not fall over. We now have, off pat, the familiar sensation of what it is to experience one thing as distinct from another, so what if we can continue doing that outside of time? We have become so afraid that we would be unable to know ourselves or even exist (what is existence if I can’t measure it?) without those structures in place that we have become like my father, micromanaging and making-busy ever more in an effort to hold our reality together inside its well-organised little box. But what if the box is preventing us from seeing what we really want to see? What if we really need no box, certainly not as a limitation upon ourselves…and would still exist without it, having our most incredible experiences beyond it; what then? What if – evolutionarily speaking – we have reached the crucial point where we have to be prepared to take that leap into the unknown, beyond the box, to where we are about to mix it all up, structure and no structure, the best of both, like a meeting of left and right hemispheres in the most harmonious and creative partnership of our so-called history? Yet we have to be prepared to prise apart our own white-knuckle grip upon linear time to get even close to this happening. Like someone hanging off the edge of a cliff, we have to know we can let go and trust that we will still be alright when that happens…try telling that to someone seeking an assurance based upon scientific trial and error, but then, our evolution relies upon taking a leap beyond such assurances. Perhaps in the space beyond linear time, we will discover other kinds of reassurance which are just as compelling…

As it happens, in the circle of my friends,  I know several people who are already listening to a wisdom beyond what can be demonstrated and who are stepping outside the confines of what is strictly sequential according to time, whether quite deliberately as they make the effort to soften the hard-structures of their lives (leaving careers and lifestyles behind in order to do this) and also those for whom non-linearity is, quite simply, happening to them whether they invite it in or not. Perhaps this is because they are at a certain stage of their evolution where their hard-grip on reality has softened more-than sufficiently but these people are finding that experiences way outside of linear time are happening to them in the most powerful, informative and, yes, transformative, ways. This happened to a friend just a couple of days ago, making coherent for her a set of experiences and interactions with another person, across a whole lifetime, in ways that have had a mind-blowing effect on the way that she is now handling what might otherwise have been a personal tragedy relating to that person. Yet she finds she can share her experience with no one but those who, like me, are prepared to entertain a non-linear perspective since, within time, the new mindset she has reached might look crazy or even insensitive to those who are experiencing the same circumstances through purely linear eyes.

Synchronicity, of course, is a key instrument of such non-linear experience, flagging up the corner posts of where such amorphous experiences cross over with each other in a non-sequencial way; and one, almost laughable, synchronicity was that I had just finished watching the movie “Arrival” when she messaged me about this situation. This film was all about what happens when a non-linear reality seeks to intersect with the  (for the moment) linear perspective of Earth; what does this make possible, what are the gifts and even, from our current perspective, the challenges, such as knowing what the future holds and having to decide whether we will go there anyway. It plays with language (a left-hemisphere invention) and all the semantics we get caught up in when we use a language-based interface as our only way of experiencing “other” without including more instinctual, non-linear modalities to know what we do; which is such a fear-driven and separation based way of experiencing one another and life itself. To me, this all flags up the child-like quality inherent in our absolute insistence upon linear time and the hard-proof version of science; this insistence is something like the little child that wants to hide beneath the bed sheets until daylight rather than own up to what else might be in the room, especially if it can’t be seen. Yet take away the hard structure of linear time and all its trimmings and, suddenly, we are forced to own up to our more-than-adept abilities to tune into past, present and future plus many things we can’t see or prove and all on an equal footing with what we think we can demonstrate. Amazing that, eh? Are we really so afraid of what we can do and what we might encounter (the “unknown” and the unfathomable) when we open up this vast skill-set? But then imagine all the gifts, the vastly broadened perspective, the infinite potential.

Its an emotive subject for some people, in proportion to how much fear there is around the concept of letting time (and everything connected to it) apparently slip, but then our next evolutionary leap relies upon it; of that I am convinced. We all play out a version of the fact we already know this, at some level, whenever we intuit that we will feel better, more inspired, more relaxed, more together, more creative, more everything that we most value about ourselves once we get that long weekend, that holiday, that gap year, more sleep, a place in the country…whatever it is that our soul seems to long for like the holy grail of our very existence. We all promise ourselves we will let ourselves off the time hook one day. Is that because we long for nothingness, for a sort of empty void in which we get to dissolve away or cease to exist in order to recover from life’s busy onslaught? No, I don’t think so; its because we long for the infinitely vaster, more soul-connected expression of self through experience that awaits us beyond the constraints of linear time. We just know our best self lies there (and fear that he or she might remain there, unclaimed, if we don’t find the space in which to realise them). Within the constraints of time, we all feel somewhat wing-clipped, so what happens when we allow those wings to unfurl? What if we don’t have to get to the end of this lifetime and count all our many regrets over the things we didn’t get to experience, not because we didn’t schedule them onto some sort of bucket list or that we lacked the time but because (of course, we see this so clearly now, even as we take our last gulp of breath) we kept insisting that time was everything, that nothing ever happened without a well-planned schedule and that we couldn’t get beyond this hard reality, we could only ever negotiate with it…and always came off the worst.

What if we don’t have to spend that last moment realising that our biggest mistake was that we simply didn’t allow the total flux, the amorphous nothingness, the complete lack of time-managed structure in which for our most powerful experiences to simply give rise to themselves; because that whip-cracking, watch-tapping part of ourselves never got out of the way. What if all our best-selves can be found in not knowing and yet being open to everything, allowing meaningful experience to present to us instead of chasing it down. Even if we can’t succumb to this every moment of our days (even I don’t do that…nor do I want to) we can invite it in, stop making it so “wrong”. We can opt to stay a little longer in those just-woken alpha brainwaves before we  get sucked into the beta currents of our lives; can, through meditation, practice being there until we can sustain that feeling even in the very midst of unfolding circumstance, no longer conditional upon the outside world for the frequency that we operate to but, rather, determining our own frequency, which gives rise to a very different set of circumstances to those that can otherwise seem so non-negotiable like they are happening to us, victimising us (they’re really not). We can stay long enough in the easy flow, on a regular basis, that we start to trust, and not negate, its experiences just as soon as we get back into the tug-and-pull of time where (I notice) I still so-often come to doubt the easy yet quite inexplicable wisdom that was mine in that other place just a few hours earlier. This is why I write early in the morning…and keep the  opinionated left-hemispherical editor part of me out of my writing practice as much as I can; so we can all learn to value the raw wisdom that we have direct access to and quieten that part of us that is always ready to strike through our most potent experiences as though with a red pen, doubting their validity. When we stand up for our right-hemispherical experiences it has an extraordinarily powerful effect, as though unlocking more layers of access, which is a rolling process that can lead to more and more insights beyond the constricts of what is conventionally “known”.  These are some of the baby steps of a tiptoe over the hard line of linearity and, if we can avoid micro-managing the next stage, much more will follow…believe me, it always follows.

 

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When sound spirals through time…

In a week when I seem to be fixating upon the power of music to speak across time, I find I have to share these few thoughts on “Hildegard” by Stevie Wishart and Sinfonye (2012). Why?  Because I ADORE this recording, which I happened upon about six months ago and have just played again, this morning, following a very strong urge to do so when I first climbed out of bed. Had my surprise response to it six months ago (when it, frankly, blew me away, like it was the delivery I had been waiting for and became my most-listened-to thing for several weeks) diluted with time? No! Hildegard von Bingen has been with me for the last three decades of my life (I suspect, far longer than that…) but when I first tripped upon this recording it took me to a whole new level of engagement. The sensations it transports me through – each time I listen – range from full blown ecstasy to the sudden catch-release of the tears of ages, only to be replaced with even more sensations of what I can only air-peddle to describe, inadequately, as purest molten joy. Is it just me? Based on some of the reviews, I doubt it!

This is such a divinely feminine recording. There have been many and varied interpretations of this music and you will find a great many pompous and smugly opinionated diatribes out there, those I have found all penned by males, about how it “ought” to be performed (just scan the reviews on Amazon to get the idea…) but something tells me this gets the closest so far to the very spirit of the original intention. Perhaps what these naysayers are missing is that this was female music, composed by a twelfth century female for females…making it a complete oddball at the time it was conceived…but then that is probably why it has been received as such a wayshower in the dark for so very long. Wayshowers are not meant to remain pickled in aspic…they are the fluid paths of sensation that take us on voyages of discovery outside of time and tradition!

__8770263I particularly love that Stevie Wishart shows no fear in bringing modern interpretation and methods including electronica to its expression which must, surely, be the way music (of all things) is meant to go now; no longer prepared to remain walled up in a dark tower of tradition and stiff academia. Like the feminine aspect herself, “she” is letting herself down from all such brick towers and is now to be found running and pirouetting barefoot across the grass in a garden of a “place” that HvB was more than in communique with (long before her time). At its heart, her music was all about enabling spiritual ecstasy to be experienced here on earth and, well, that’s here now…as long as we let it out of its box. I suspect this music conveys the very frequency of such a release from darkness and hiding and the reunion with a place of the heart that is full of unmitigated light, hence its powerful effect upon those of us who resonate. Did HvB compose for our times as much (if not more so) than for her own? I suspect that, at some level, she did; knowing someone would step up to the task (neysayers aside) of carrying her sound forwards as she intended.

This, for me, was a must-purchase in the days when I tend to stream music, so flux is my journey through it, unless it has really made its mark – and (I even love the spiralling cover art…) this certainly has!

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The rescue party of myself

I havent been writing much lately or even feeling very conversational; not in a bad sense (far from it), I just haven’t. Its all felt quite perfect in ways I don’t want to make more solid than they want to be by trying to explain why even the very few things I have started to write have been left unpublished; left to drift away without wanting to crystallise into words on a page. Even the book I was set upon writing earlier this year seems to have dissolved into a puddle where the intention once was. Its felt like a creative void, a vacuum or holding space. I mentioned feeling like I was in such a void the other day and someone countered by sending a video making the point there is no such thing since all is energy (yes, I know); but then that’s the paradox out of which all new potential is birthed since its where the particle gives way to the wave (still existence…in a different form) and I see how I have inclined towards the wave lately. Semantics itself can become the hard left-brained substance of particle not wave; a place where we lose our grasp of what we are experiencing (or how to adequately express it…letting its essence slip away from us in the very attempt) since we struggle to find the right words to use without nailing our experience to the mast of an idea and I know I have felt, most strongly, that to write about my recent experiences (which have been profound) was to risk altering them unutterably…so I haven’t. Its all new territory yet I am finding it most persuasive and can only go with the way it feels, which is so much lighter than where I was.

So I’m not going to go deeply into why I haven’t been writing for any of my blogs for weeks after one of the most prolific writing phases of my life. Suffice to say, it feels like a version of my left hemisphere succumbing to some of the more fluid impulses of my right, or a case of choosing to experience the wave over the particle of my experience. Since this is something I feel strongly drawn to right now, I suspect my quiet-phase is likely to continue, even at the risk of my blog-writing losing momentum since I feel I must go with this new urge. There’s just one anecdote I do want to put out here in the very week of my six-year anniversary of this blog, which was started on 9th March 2011 and which is always a time when I publish something that feels appropriate to the milestone. Its message encapsulates the very essence of why I still bother to write at all; the kind of “alternate reality – shared” that I like to put out there to encourage others to notice these things in their own lives. So here it is…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI’ve been feeling pretty blissed-out actually and in a (I want to say “new” but that’s not strictly true…) much more broadly creative space than I’ve been in for a long time, playing with so-called work and life like I am a child again, making it all up as I go along and having fun with it all. Where I am actually reminds me very much of childhood (so, not “new” but perhaps mislaid); the way I used to wake up with a fizzing ambition to create something a little bizarre and would set about it in the most single-minded way using whatever was at my disposal, able to envision easily how one thing could be transformed into another and never once stopping to think why was I making this thing or what would others think. It was all done for me (not for accolade or any other external motivator) and was driven by such a powerful discharge of the essence of me wanting to make itself manifest in cardboard, bits of fabric and glue or whatever it was I was using today. I would become so absorbed in it, creating a mini-universe around this thing, as though I could easily climb into the folds of what I had just made and live inside there as my next-newest reality. Whether I was drawing, model-constructing or making a den out of bed-sheets, this essence of me drew me into itself utterly in a way that suspended all disbelief and made my choices manifest as easily as having the first impulse that drove its creation. I’ve been refinding that essence brimming up to the surface to be expressed again in recent weeks and also that I am not prepared to accept anything less than that unbridled childhood belief that all things are possible; I’m so done with all the self-inflicted compromises of adulthood and all the neysaying that keeps us so small.

I first identified that feeling as the most blissed-out, unbridled impulse of burgoning possibility when I was nine years old and the feeling never completely left me again, though it would become burried beneath life’s crud. Over all the years of my life, that feeling would sometimes flit up to the surface once again (so often at this time of the year) and I came to associate it closely with certain sensory cues that took me straight back to the first time that I recognised its vibe, back in ’78; to the point I would sometimes deliberately orchestrate those prompts or seek them out just to get the feeling started once again. All the cues of that, my most memorable childhood easter, when all the daffodils and jasmine, easter chicks, yellow ribbons, newly undurling leaves and golden sunlight made everything seem yellow, stayed inside me as my quick-fire way to refind this essence of Self that felt like it hit the target of me.  In my yellow-suffused world, with afternoon sunlight pouring through my parents’ yellow curtains, I went deeply into my imagination and one of the few things to get through to me there was music. This became, perhaps, the most potent quantum messenger to myself of all, as I’ve written about before…

I have strong associations of music at this time of the year, from that first milestone which was the very first time that “adult” music really made its mark on me and became equated with this feeling that made me, somehow, feel more whole in myself, like hearing the music completed me or carried a reciprocal frequency to a clarion call my soul was throwing out to the ether. Right at the front of that musical bundle was Kate Bush’s Lionheart album which my sister, at the time, was playing to death, but there were a few others in the package; my quantum music (for that is what they have become to me) holding a vibration that I know I can draw upon when I need them to take me back to a certain holding space where I repair and refind myself. They could have been anything; perhaps they just happened to be there when I most needed them and I knew I could work with them, without becoming weary of them, across the whole of my life, as the messengers of myself. Maybe, at the surface of myself, I desperately needed to hear someone say I was “needed for the symphony” (Kate Bush “Symphony in Blue” 1978) but it went much deeper than that. However those musical prompts came about, they have become a potent instrument of my own evolution as they have served to carry quantum messages back and forth outside of time and event.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASo strongly did the association of a particular handful of albums from that particular easter come through to me this year that, with the urge to listen to them, in the very same order that I used to, in a daffodil-sunny room, I found myself receiving the strongest sense that it was the “me” of now (sublime, fulfilled and joyful as I was feeling) that was sending back a message, through the music, to my childhood self! It felt as real as anything – the feeling of my current reality was what I had tuned into at the age of nine, like a forecast of the future (although it was really outside of time) calling me to it through sensory prompts. It took the essence of this reality, this me, this life I have created and all its inherent freedoms and joys, to lift the “me” of then out of her gloomy dark place…because that’s where I was until spring ’78, which was a turning point in my life for no other reason than I suddenly felt different about myself. March ’78 has long felt like a hallowed time to me since it was as though I was suddenly lifted up and carried out of the mire through the happy associations of music and creativity, of yellow petals and sunlight that have stayed with me strongly at this time of year ever since. How come they felt so loaded with meaning that they transformed me so utterly when I tuned into this sensory bundle; was I this thing that felt so good to my childhood Self?

In an epiphany that feels as strong as anything I have ever known about myself, I know now that this is quite true. The me of now, in my place of unfettered choices born of an attitude to life that has unhooked me from many of the mindsets that trick us into feeling imprisoned; and with my newly unbridled creativity, with new projects on the simmer that bring me joy without attachment and the freedom with which to pursue them in a supportive and beautiful environment filled with sunlight and flowers, had sent this package back “in time” as a taster. Like a search party sent to recover the frightened child that I was, the vibration of my current reality had, in a very real sense, rescued her. In exchange, that “me” had sent forwards their child-like curiosity and relentless urge to experiment, their unbridled, multi-disciplinary excitement and absolute disregard for the opinion of others so that I could infuse what I am doing here, which had previously felt stale and stuck (in the way that adult projects so often make themselves) into the newly expansive sea of possibility and expression that I am currently playing with as my life. We met each other “across time” and we both stood to gain so much from the encounter. It was as though timelines collapsed and these versions of myself, of very different “ages” and stages of biological development, were stood side-by side, co-creating together. This is where I have been these last weeks and it is so tangible in ways that are feeding my creativity, my daily rhythms, my playfulness, my health, my ability to shake off so many of the heavy shackles of what we call adult responsibility and start to  experience life through the heart of a child again.

This morning, as I responded once again to an urge to listen to my “quantum” music whilst reading the trivial, light-hearted kind of book I had, I now admit, seldom allowed myself to pick up in recent years, and taking time to start my day slowly in the sunniest window of my house the feeling went much deeper. I realised that all the many times I had ever gathered this sublime feeling to me, like an armful of freshly picked flowers (especially at this time of the year), I had “posted” it to myself via the music and all the other sensory clues I have come to associate with that easter of 1978, which I knew the child I was back then would recognise since she responded so very strongly to them. They hit her like a tidal wave of joy; she woke up and noticed, she felt them summoning her forwards to somewhere…where? To here. Not a place but a frequency where she/I feel complete, feel intact, feel at our most whole and fully-integrated best. I sent that vibe “back” to the child-self who needed it most desperately so that she could feel her way “forwards” along the rescue rope of association towards her most liberated Self; which exists outside of time and is somewhere we get to meet everyday now; as often as we want to since there is no time-space to prevent us from doing so. She was given the heart to continue when she might otherwise have floundered on the rocky path that three-dimensional life was presenting to her at that time; where she felt such a missfit…but now something was calling her onwards and she could recognise it strongly since it was the very essence of herself saying “over here, this is a place where we get to thrive…in the physcal world”. Such is the world that I make manifest for myself today.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI see now how all of the times I ever felt this good about myself, this liberated, this creative and this loved (especially by myself), I had diligently wrapped up those feelings in a bundle of songs and flowers and  sent that message back to myself as a frequency that I have been able to read “across time” to lift myself up out of any low-feeling predicament. Now that feeling has boomeranged back to me, here, expanded a million-fold, like all those wonderful-feeling selves have congregated as the “I” that I am fully aware that I am in this moment. Across so-called time, all those highest vibrating versions of me have now touched base, using music and a cacophony of juxtaposed visuals and feelings as their cue, and so an amalgam of my very best experiences, ostensibly spread out across many decades of linear time, have come together as one. As a nine-year old, without limiting belief systems in place, I felt that wave of sensations arrive and read their signal so fluently that it felt like a tsunami of joy that lifted me up and carried me out of what came before; it truly was a pivotal moment I have never forgotten. I see now how I have served as the rescue party of myself; am (once again, being without limiting belief systems) able to perceive how this is entirely possible in a reality that is not fenced-in by an insistence upon linear time; also that this non-linear reality has been both fully-functional and highly influential in my life (more so than some of the most sturdy-feeling plots unfolding in three-dimensional reality) for as long as I can remember.

If I hadn’t been able to register what I did at that juncture in my life as a wave of frequency that I found quite irresitable (and never forgot, once encountered…), things could have turned out very differently for me as I was rapidly losing confidence in myself and in life at that point but as that nine-year old, and on many more occassions later in life, that feeling came to rescue me out of a dire situation. Each time it swept in, it would carry me off to another reality, a more “real” reality in the sense that it was more authentically matched to the true essence of me rather than being conditional upon the way circumstance had manipulated me to feel about myself through a jumble of distorted belief systems.

Whenever it arose, this feeling kept me locked-on to myself at my very essence and I never felt more closely in contact with that aspect of Self, or freely expressive of it, than I do right now. It is far more persuasive to me than anything we might conventionally think of as duty or responsibility, those things we tell ourselves we ought to be doing, since I know that where it leads is exactly where my best outcomes can always be found. This is how we reap the experiences of many decades, yes even many lifetimes, as one entity and pluck out those aspects that resonate most closely with “who we really are” at our essence in order to fully enjoy the experience of being that, made manifest in human form. I guess you could say its how we get to find ourselves, to reunite who who we are at the soul level, way beyond time and space. The thick layer of crud that has built up all around us from the circumstances of our linear time experiences gets to dissolve and fall away as though it was never there at all, leaving behind the pristine essence of Self that has been holding it all together for so very long but which has often been so deeply buried that we hardly knew where to locate it or what it really looked like without all the conditioning and the stories. The feeling of undergoing this descaling process – letting life’s debris fall away –  is quite wonderful and is its own best guide to where more of this wonderful feeling can be found since all we have to do is follow its thread.

With an ease we perhaps only ever got to sample before as children, who seldom doubt or question where such wonderful feelings lead, we get to know what that shining Self feels like in each moment of every day and I have been exploring such feelings all of these recent weeks; can tell you that, even in their shallowest waters and when they still come and goes intermittently like a gentle tide rhythmically rolling over you then withdrawing again, the feeling of them washing over you in waves is truly sublime and well-worth the coming and going (which is, after all, life). Having reunited with this life-source, this inspiration-source, this root of all joy and all meaning in my life, I have no intention of letting the feeling slip away again and can heartily recommend that you start to notice your own version of it.

If you are not already noticing their themes, perhaps your own clues lie a little burried under life’s clutter and noise but they are always prepared to be noticed just as soon as you step outside of the linear and notice those subtler impulses, perhaps even the sturdier rescue ropes, that have run like a timeless thread across the “story” of your life. These are the clues sent by you to yourself to get you exactly where you most want to be via waves of excitement, of passion or utter absorption into something you wanted to be doing for its own sake, with no outside agenda except for a feeling of joy that came with it; a feeling you have tried to return to, perhaps, but many of us lose its grip once childhood is over. These lifelines are likely to have manifested as the most liberated, inspired expressions of you registered as those times you have felt the most whole (without need of anything else to occur or present itself to complete you)…and they can be used to find your way back to aspects of Self that never really went anywhere but, rather, are here to be reclaimed and fully integrated into a more complete and joyful version of life from this point.


How do I find myself?

Having newly appraised how I have always been the rescue party of myself across all timelines, back and forth, what does this amalgam of many versions of me look like and how am I allowing it to express and make itself known, using the guidance system of my feelings and the experiences of everyday life?

Describing how I am, to a whole new level, managing to rediscover this unbroken thread of  Self beneath all the clutter of life is such an abstract undertaking that I won’t go too deeply into as it will, obviously, vary for everyone. All I can do is give you some very basic clues as to the kind of things that came up for me as soon as I gave myself that carte blanche and asked “what do I REALLY want to do, no holds barred…in other words, if I was a kid again, how would I be spending my time?” (for its in that childhood version of Self that we so often rediscover our very essence).

For me, it has certainly included opening up to times in my life when I know I felt most at peace and at liberty to pursue my most creative urges, also free of almost all practical worldly concerns, and then using sensory prompts from those memories to revisit those times and some of their impulses. As I have gone into this more and more (just from simple acts like allowing myself to curl up with a light-hearted book in the middle of the day or doodling in a notebook without agenda…), I have had whole waves of sensation from childhood come back to me and, on the back of those waves, long-buried desires and aspirations have carried in on the wind. Thus, I have allowed myself to pursue whatever the passions were that consumed me at those times, however “childish’ they may seem to anyone of my own age (remember, no one else’s opinion matters when it comes to undertaking this important act of self-exploration…), including a willingness to dismantle all my own self-judgement and, yes, pride.

These are just a few examples: in recent weeks, I have taken up the piano (not in a terribly prim way but by selecting the most fun and unconventional  online course I could find so that it more-closely resembles the playful method I was using to try and self-teach myself to play tunes on my aunt’s piano when I was eight or nine years old…). This – and the fact I allow myself to do this whenever the urge comes over me – has become one the biggest joys of my life, with no other agenda than to pursue it for my own enjoyment (which is considerable); and which has nothing to do with the two-handed progress I am making, which has genuinely surprised me. I now have one or two other instruments in my sights…

I have allowed myself (yes, me, the professional artist who ordinarily paints in oils) to order a large rainbow pack of children’s colour pens and do “colouring in” because I used to really absorb myself in doing this so much so why not?

I have dispensed with the last remnants of time-keeping to my daily routines (not so straightforward for everyone to do, I realise) and have taken my art practice well away from the stuffy painterly approach that was already floundering and developed it into the kind of product design that I know my nine year-old self would have heartily approved of (in fact she would have had a riot playing with the storefront I am currently setting up where I get to design pretty much anything I feel like, from clothing to furniture, and create mock-ups of actual products that people can order online). When the first business model I approached in order to do this turned out to be far too limiting and heavily stacked against me as an artist needing to make a living, I quickly dumped it and sought out another one which now offers me the kind of freedom and returns that I expect as a bare minimum before I am prepared to work with anything outside of myself these days; and I know my nine year-old self would heartily approve of my decision (which, you could say, is my new benchmark).

As mentioned, I’ve started reading pulp fiction for the first time in over half a decade (had I really stopped myself from reading that stuff because I felt it was a waste of time or that I would rot my intelligence? Sad to say, yes!) and have been so enjoying diving into a page-turner or two just for the sheer fun of it. Letting myself off the intellectual hook has felt like a “big one” for me. Its true; not always having to be the intelligent grown up or guarding my academic persona for fear that a small detour could result in me loosing some kudos, some brain cells or even the grip on my own evolution has felt like such a break for freedom; in fact I find I can duck and dive easily between some very diverse reading material now (from pappy romantic fiction to quantum physics…) and get even more out of it all, somehow, as a result. Getting rid of fixed ideas as to what constitutes evolutionary behaviour is a serious case of getting our of my own way and finally getting that everything we experience contributes to that process, without having to filter things into desirable and non-desirable categories of how we spend our time. I have to say, life feels all the richer for it and I have relaxed many degrees in recent weeks.

I’ve been having fun with my clothes, my interiors, my lifestyle, my social life….choosing things from a far more playful place instead of driven by ingrained motivations that felt conditioned or maturity dictated (“you’re neary 50, you’re not meant to do that” – well, “pah!” to that). I’ve always loved to have fun with clothes and this is now fuelling my newly expanded business as fabric and product designer, which has lit me up in so many ways. I realise I had so much unleashed potential in these areas and they are all wanting to come on board with my very eclectic, experimental life of mine.

I’ve been spending much more time outdoors, not just for walks or to do gardening chores but to just sit with my feet in a river or wrapping up warm to read a book in the garden in the middle of the day when I might otherwise have felt I should be working. In fact this is the first springtime in a decade that I have had such a relaxed, unscheduled, routine as it is normally my busiest time in the sense of sticking to a routine. I’m still busy – but in an entirely fluid way. I’ve also been giving myself time off – LOADS of time off – from doing what I traditionally think I ought to be doing and letting all that entrained guilt fall by the wayside. I’ve be observing (and side-stepping!) all those entrained impulses to feel time-poor and all those other versions of lack-mentality that we use to keep ourselves running in ever more dizzying circles of supposedly too much to do and not enough time to do them all; allowing life to move at a gentler, more organic pace and some of that other stuff to just fall by the wayside as (frankly) unimportant. I confess that I am now regularly experiencing waves of the most wonderful feelings that I recognise from childhood but had not experienced in any sustained way for all those decades in between and it is tremendous to dispel the myth that they simply disppear when we become adults – what rubbish we have been telling ourselves; these feelings are our birth-right!

These are just a few of the things that have certainly helped me to find my way back to my true essence due to my preparedness to make room for them to surface and be expressed as key aspects of me, which feels like getting to know myself all over again, only far deeper than ever before. I heartily recommend it as a practice for discovering who you really are and what you came here to be (primarily YOU!) which is the most loving and healing thing you can ever do for yourself and can serve as the foundation block of a whole new way of being, going forwards.

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Out of the box

Pandora pre-Raphaelite painting JD Bitten, Pandora and the return of the divine feminineOn a reunion to my old university hall of residence last week; once “St Andrews Hall” of the University of Reading but now the Museum of English Rural Life, my eye was taken immediately (on entering what was once a sort of reading area beneath the galleried stairs) to a striking pre-Raphaelite painting on the wall. The fact it was Pre-Raphaelite didn’t overly surprise me; the building was designed by the well-known architecture of that movement, Alfred Waterhouse, who famously designed London’s Natural History Museum. So, I think, I initially assumed they had acquired an appropriate reproduction to go with the feel of the room, which now has display cases showing off books to do with cultural history but still has the feel of a pre-Raphaelite interior with its leaded lights, fireplace and panelling. Yet even in the relatively subdued light of this this space, the painting so obviously shone off the walls and must have been an original and, though I was primarily engaged with all the chit-chat of the reunion, I literally couldn’t take my eyes off it. By now, of course, I knew this painting, by pre-Raphaelite artist J.D.Bitten (1860-1932), was “Pandora”.

Where had she come from; why an orignal of such caliber in a museum about rural crafts? Without doubt, I knew she wasn’t hanging there in “my day” (I remembered nothing so striking or grand…and I would have known since I was already passionate about the pre-Raphaelites at that time). It wasn’t until I got home that I unearthed a story that startled me in more ways than one because of the timing of the rather bizarre events that unfolded around this remarkable painting of Pandora, a subject that already had my full attention from the first moment I saw her. They intersected hand-in-glove with a sequence of events that I had been quite preoccupied with lately, having written or alluded to them in many other posts on my other website (as a start point, I will send you to my post here) and now this almost comic story came to light, like some sort of parody of the very themes I had been playing with.

It seems, this obviously Victorian painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy as late as 1913, the year my father was born (which, to me, adds huge significance to the “start-point” for its tale). The fact it was therefore some sort of overhang from the Victorian era couldn’t have more aptly conveyed the attitudes of my father, and the influence they had upon my early life, if it tried. It then came into the possession of the university, intended for one of the main university buildings of what was still, at that time, the University College of Reading attached to Christ Church College at the University of Oxford. When the First World War broke out, concern that the university’s buildings may be commandeered by the army led to the painting being kept where it was initially hung, at St Andrews, where a female warden developed such an attachment to it that it was kept there until the late 1940s (it seems, nobody dared claim it back, such was her vehemence that it should remain).

Then, in 1949, along came another female warden with quite the opposite opinion of the the painting (gender really has no baring on such reactions, especially when they are provoked in those who are in denial of the source of some of their deepest and most uncomfortable feelings; usually meaning they have been suppressed by one means or another). Something clearly provoked quite a strong reaction in this warden since she went to great effort to get the painting removed any way that she could. “Just get it out of my sight” seems to have been her driving motivation and so Pandora was swept away in a cloak of confusion and total lack of care for the consequences.

Pandora pre-Raphaelite painting JD Bitten, Pandora and the return of the divine feminineIn other words, like the proverbial hot potato that nobody wanted to handle, the painting was “put into storage”, only to be unearthed in 1990 chained to a boiler (note how chains are alluded to in the painting itself), covered in grime and cobwebs, in the basement of what was known as The Old Red Building (which brings to mind the red clay for which Reading is so famous; and a more primal setting for Pandora, who was shaped from clay, I cannot imagine). Its as though she was banished back to where she had started (you could say, her point of creation) which, at the time, was somewhere no one was volunteering to meet her, being so fixated on such an “orderly” modern world that made very little room for the divine aspect of the feminine (or the art and classic references of an earlier era).

So, if this isn’t some sort of parable of the fate of the divine feminine in miniature, I really don’t know what is!

________________________

I find it impossible not to link these events sideways to a structure of events that is both universal in the sense that it relates to evolution and to my own personal “story”, also determined by that evolutionary chain of events. There is no easy way to cross-reference this to a new reader of what I am about to try and explain except to refer them to a book “The Nine Waves of Creation” by Carl Johan Calleman PhD and my own personal epiphany relating to the quantum-hollographic viewpoint of history that Dr Calleman outlines in it (see my post Using the Nine Waves of Creation to Heal Your Life).

In summary, the twentieth century saw the end of a Seventh Wave of evolution and, in 1999, the activation of the Eighth Wave which replaced the male/yang preoccupations and filters that had been such cultural determinants for the previous approx 5000 years with a decidedly female/yin perspective. Each wave has a pre-wave and myself (and many others) had been atuning to that for a good portion of the twentieth century, which accounts for the rise of feminism and a great softening in our perspectives across all walks of life. So, why is this relevant to the story of a painting rediscovered in a basement?

Because the subject is Pandora who, much like Eve, has been blamed for an huge amount of ill-fortune collectively referred to as the great “fall” of mankind or a loss of innocence that unleashed all our so-called problems. Similar to the female that famously fraternized with a serpent and offered an apple to her male counterpart, everything would have been all right, supposedly, if Pandora hadn’t opened up her box (actually, a jar) and unleashed all manner of chaos upon the world. This obviously has something to do with the transition from the Fifth Wave to the perspective of the Sixth Wave, which was when that milestone “flip” into a left-brain orientation took place, changing the way that we experienced, quite literally, everything thereafter. Coming from “clay” (as the feminine impulse does, rising up from the earth) the female aspect that was well established during the Fifth Wave”met” with the evolutionary wave coming in (the serpent of the Garden of Eden story) and, together, they unleashed something that hadn’t ever been seen before and it was distinctly male-oriented. You could call it an enclosure (an edge, a definition, a self-awareness) to the previously unfettered sense of reality that existed before…which allowed a sense of union with all things to be experienced and yet left the human far less aware of his or her own individuality than we can easily imagine from our current perspective. In other words, like Pandora, we had arrived, as human beings, naked and without chains (or definitions, measures…so called “knowledge”) but that was all about to change; and our world along with it.

What was “the apple” as offered to Adam by Eve once that evolutionary wave came in and allowed the expansive, unlimited sea of what she knew prior to that to take on a brand new form that was as a tangible as something you could hold in your hand and say “hey, look at this”? You could image it as a symbol of the newly acquired “circle” of enclosure around the mind (“I am this, that is other”), allowing human beings to “taste” about themselves what was previously unfathomable during the stage of evolution when there was no definition or self-awareness with which to measure, compare and thus know ourselves. The box or jar that was bestowed upon Pandora is more of the same; a Sixth Wave container for what, in the time before, was just there…undefined.

So the paradox is that the feminine aspect didn’t so much offer or unleash something terrible as collaborate with the male aspect to bring everything that was unlimited but undefinable, before that time, inside an enclosure or a box of sorts – the shape-sorter that is the human mind. Pandora’s box has only ever been regarded as a problem in the context of all the fear and suspicion mankind has since developed around what would happen if what has been so neatly enclosed for the last several thousand years was ever let out again; what would happen to the orderly little world we like to think we are masters over then? We have told ourselves we must never go back to that Garden of Eden, as though it would be our very destruction to do so, throwing away everything we have convinced ourselves is so important to us…and yet part of us longs for this; and rightly so since it is part of our evolutionary process to need to return there (not as before, but in a new way) via the Eighth Wave on our way to the Ninth, which is where we are now (this was activated in 2011 – more on that in my other post). No wonder one simple painting was able to provoke such wildly divergent responses out of two different people during the pre-wave of that highly controversial new wave.

Pandora pre-Raphaelite painting JD Bitten, Pandora and the return of the divine feminineLike a cursory tale, Pandora (somewhat like Eve) has been held accountable for all the ills of mankind for the longest time and the endless wrestle between left and right hemispheres (“the right” always wanting to overspill the limitations and controls of “the left”) has been the long-running history of humanity. Yet, in this painting, the beauty of Pandora shines out over and above all else. The loaded glances of the attendent goddesses bringing adornments and finery (resembling chains!) to “bestow” on Pandora’s naked form and all those other sub-plots seem to happen around her, somewhat detatched from her…while she just shines from that canvas, our focal point brought resoundingly back to the feminine perspective in all her uncomplicated glory; how can this radiant female, in all her innocence, have done anything wrong? We even see in the feathered serpent alluded to in the costume of the being creating Pandora (Athena?) the ancient symbol of the Nine Waves (a “serpent” energy that “flew” in); as suddenly introduced into many of our cultures around the time of the Sixth Wave, regarding which I refer you Calleman’s book (below) “The Global Mind and the Rise of Civilization”. Batten could be convincingly described as having tuned into the pre-wave of the Eighth Wave, 100 years before its activation, to have created such a powerful instrument of its impulse; a depiction of Pandora that captivated one woman so much that she fought tooth and nail to keep the painting on that wall for over thirty years (but then I have long suspected there was a strongly Eighth Wave impulse underlying the motivations of the pre-Raphaelites).

So, yes, I suspect Miss Bolam, the warden who fell in love with the painting, felt this Eighth Wave quality calling out to her and was already responding to those feminine impulses that are all about standing proud and radiant, without (or at least in spite of) all those adornments of the intellect and a far-more calculating world. They made her strident and formidable in her determination to keep that canvas hanging where, in her opinion, it was always meant to hang….in St Andrews Hall which, at that time, was for women only (as it had been since she oversaw its opening in 1911 as the first all-women hall of residence outside of London). How many women must have taken that image of the glowing Pandora into themselves and internalised it, affecting and encouraging them in dozens of unaccountable ways, possibly for the rest of their lives?

Pandora pre-Raphaelite painting JD Bitten, Pandora and the return of the divine feminine

In the context of where it is hung, something in the way the reflection of the leaded lights of the room open up and enlighten the heavy subject behind Pandora feels distinctly prophetic…

But then the backlash generally happens just as a pre-wave begins to gather strength and, by the mid 1940s, the pre-wave to the Eighth Wave was doing just that. We were less than two decades from the peace and love movements of the 1960s, feminism was on the rise and all-female hell was about to break loose in the world of those who gripped on to the values and structures of the Seventh or even Sixth Wave like their lives depended on it. Anyone who felt their world at all threatened by the divine feminine impulse that was rising would have struggled to stroll past Pandora on the way to breakfast every morning and the pressure to have the painting removed seems to have mounted to a climax in 1949. With that, she was duly removed to her “prison cell” of the next thirty years; though could she has been any more dramatically kidnapped away than to be put in a basement, in chains, fastened to a boiler, and nobody even noticing or objecting? Nobody, that is, except for the secretary to various bursars who knew immediately where Pandora was when asked.

But for this tip-off, the outcome could have been very different but then you can’t help feeling that card was always meant to be played as it was, when it was, on the crest of an evolutionary wave. In fact, you get the feeling Pandora’s time in the basement was, somehow, predestined to happen expressely so she could find her way out again; much like the detour “into the dark” that has been my own life. I find it so personally meaningful that a painting acquired as a result of an exhibition in the year my father was born (who stood like a concrete breeze block representing the Seventh Wave aspect in my life…and who had recently died when the painting was refound) had been removed from St Andrews by the time I arrived at the university that he believed I was unsuited for, being a female. It is with great fondness, love and respect that I remember my father but this does not prevent me from dispassionately observing that, whereas my brother, who read physics to PhD level at another university, received boundless support, my father was still nit-picking about the “point” of me going to university at all, long after I got there, and seemed only to be waiting for me to make my first inevitable stumble. Yet that time at St Andrews (as my reunion last week reminded me; for related epiphanies, see my post On the Crest of a Wave) was a hallowed time of finding myself a little…before the pre-wave of the Eighth Wave provoked a backlash of the Seventh that got even harder for me in the 1990s (as I’ve amply outlined in my original post about the Nine Waves). The fact Pandora came to light in 1990 just as the pre-wave “proper” to the Eighth Wave got started (Calleman gives the date 1989) along with my own most tough and cathartic years, even the fact that the article about the painting (below) announcing it had been found was first published in 1992, the most traumatic year of my life when I must have still been reeling from its impact, is very interesting to me indeed. In that synchronicity, I find she stands for the opening-up of my very own “Pandora’s Box”….like she came out of that basement with double the force and determination and I felt it at some level; but then, as I have come to realise, it was a box that was in desperate need of opening!

Perhaps Pandora was only ever meant to be the counter-impulse to a world that became so fixated upon compartmentalising everything that it was missing the point (or denying) that there is so much more than that which can be defined or pigeon-holed by the mind. Perhaps she was our safety-catch, primed to spring apart at just the right moment to save ourselves from our own self-defeating, self-limiting intellects. Perhaps many of us have experienced the unleashing of our own internal Pandora in recent years or decades and it is the combined effect of all these boxes springing open as one (mimicking many breakdowns and disasters in our lives…but, all of them, evolutionary in their nature) that is manifesting our next biggest evolutionary leap forwards. Who knows what small (or significant) part these archetypes have played, even as depicted in well-timed artworks hung on the walls of places where we spent our formative years; who knows what a painting in a college full of women did for over thirty years at a key time in history (one of many drops in an evolutionary ocean). What makes a story such as hers ebb in and out of favour across the annuls of time yet never fully disappearing, even when we have tried to bury it deep in the basement under layers of dust? Yet, not to be set back by that unpromising outcome (much like many of us…) she found her way back into the daylight. Perhaps she has been pushing forwards with her message, with even more vigour than ever; the somewhat inconvenient wake-up call suggesting we might all want to let ourselves out of that mind-box once in a while. Whilst there were always going to be those that weren’t ready to hear her, I take heart from the fact there were others who were prepared to seek her out from her cobwebs and put her back in full view where she was always meant to be.

To place this extraordinary story into context, I am including the full article from 1992 outlining the rediscovery of Pandora below (original source viewable on the University of Reading website).

Other related reading:

The Nine Waves of Creation: Quantum Physics, Holographic Evolution and the Destiny of Humanity and The Gloal Mind and The Rise of Civilization: The Quantum Evolution of Consciousness by Carl Johan Calleman, PhD

Using the Nine Waves to Heal Your Life – as a starting point to a growing collection of posts pivoting on The Nine Waves of Creation


Pandora by J.D. Batten

pandora

Pandora by John Dixon Batten (1860 – 1932), tempera on fresco 128 x 168cm, presented by the artist at the Royal Academy 1913

After the departure of the former School of Education from the Old Red Building to Bulmershe Court during the Easter Vacation 1990, a number of interesting artefacts associated with the University’s (and University College’s) occupation of the building came to light amidst the debris of ninety years. None however was more interesting than the large picture in a fine but damaged gilt frame found chained to a gas pipe and hidden under a shroud of cobwebs and dust in the catacombs of the basement.

When Dr Alder first came upon the frame it was so dirty and the light so poor that he at first believed it to be empty of a picture of any kind. Closer inspection with Dr Anna Robins of the Department of History of Art revealed beneath the grime the stunning colours of a beautiful pre-Raphaelite painting dated 1913 and signed JDB. Other evidence on the frame suggested that the work had been exhibited in a well-known commercial gallery. It was, by its great size (128 cm x 168 cm), high quality and superb frame, clearly something much more significant than a student copy emanating from the old Department of Fine Art. So what was it?

Dr Robins was soon able to establish that the artist was John Dixon Batten (1860-1932), a late Pre-Raphaelite who had been recently brought to public attention in The Last Romantics exhibition of 1989 at the Barbican Gallery, London. Batten was well represented there by paintings in tempera, coloured woodcuts and two illustrated books, Celtic Fairy Tales and More Celtic Fairy Tales, ed. Joseph Jacobs, which were lent by the Library.

Although Pandora was exhibited at the Royal Academy as late as 1913, its style and subject make it Victorian. Like many Victorian artists including Lord Leighton, President of the Royal Academy between 1878 and 1896, Batten had a lively interest in classical myths which had great appeal to an age which strongly identified with the Ancient. Mr Alan Windsor (Department of History of Art) identified the passage from Hesiod which inspired Batten’s Pandora – “The fictile likeness of a bashful maid Rose from the temper’d earth, by Jove’s behest, Under the forming god: the zone and vest Were clasp’d and folded by Minerva’s hand:”

The Victorians were deeply resistant to depictions of the nude in modern day settings. Whistler made a few attempts to test the moral climate but with little success. Yet it is one of the paradoxes of a paradoxical age that paintings of the nude with a mythological reference were accepted and indeed even welcomed at the Royal Academy, that most respectable of art institutions. Thus Batten’s composition which portrays Pandora as a nude statue being brought to life in the presence of other gods and goddesses was by no means unconventional. Like all pictures Pandora needs to be understood within the prevailing codes of taste and censorship of its time rather than of our own.

One of the most interesting aspects of Pandora is its technique of tempera on fresco. Tempera painting is a method by which dry pigment is mixed with egg yolk. The oily properties of the yolk create a hard smooth surface when the medium dries. Batten was one of the leading participants of the tempera and fresco revival in England. He was a founder member of the Society of Painters in Tempera in 1901 and its Secretary for twenty years. The society’s members admired the technical skill and craftsmanship in the art of the fifteenth century which they thought was sadly lacking in modern painting. Batten was often praised for his skill as a tempera painter. Indeed, he was asked to speak about tempera painting on the occasion of the Ashmolean Museum’s tempera exhibition in 1922. (Batten’s lecture was subsequently published in the Studio magazine with numerous illustrations.) Yet the majority of his pictures remain untraced which makes the discovery of Pandora so exciting for the University and the art world at large.

But how did the work come to be in the basement of the Old Red Building? The memories of those with long associations with the Old Red Building were ransacked without success. Many recalled that there had been a large picture in the basement since the early nineteen-fifties but none knew anything about it until Barbara Meade, Secretary to successive Bursars since 1954, was approached. She not only remembered the painting but immediately referred to it as Pandora, thus helping to confirm Dr Robins’ identification of the picture as the one exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1913. Not only that, but Barbara’s phenomenal memory soon unearthed from the strongroom in Whiteknights House, with some additional help from the University Archivist, Mike Bott, documents containing the answers to many of the remaining questions about the picture.

It was indeed painted by John Batten. He had been for some years External Examiner in the Department of Fine Art and had apparently revived there the art of wood block colour printing in which he so excelled. According to Professor H A D Neville, Professor of Agricultural Botany since 1919, the picture had been in the University College’s possession from 1913 or 1914. In a letter of 1 February 1949 to Miss Ursula Martindale, then Warden of St Andrew’s Hall, he wrote: “I am almost certain that Miss Bolam [first Warden of St Andrew’s Hall] was asked to find room for it because no suitable place could be found for it in the University. The walls of Senior Common Room [Acacias] were already covered with portraits and the present Library [now Gyosei College Library] had not then been built. Childs [Principal of University College and first Vice-Chancellor of the University] told me that they had every intention of getting it a place in the University and would have done so but, when the 1914-18 war broke out, there was some chance of the University buildings being taken over by the Army and the tendency was to get things away from the University and not to bring more things in. At the end of that war, Miss Bolam had acquired some kind of right to the picture and no one dared to take it away. I remember when Senior Common Room was very much enlarged, I suggested that we claimed the picture but Childs was obviously afraid of facing Miss Bolam’s wrath if we attempted it!”

It is a good story and very much in keeping with the formidable reputation of Miss Bolam. It may also in essence be true except that the formal presentation of the painting to the University College did not take place until the autumn of 1918. A Council Minute of 25 October 1918 confirms this and adds that the picture was glazed and framed by the artist himself. The Council resolved “that Mr Batten’s picture Pandora be temporarily hung in St Andrew’s Hall on the understanding that it shall be transferred hereafter at the pleasure of the Council to a position in the main College buildings.”

It never was. Perhaps the Council, like the Principal, was also fearful of Miss Bolam’s wrath. At all events the picture seems to have hung undisturbed in the Lounge at St Andrew’s for the next thirty years, except that in February 1922 it was sent to the Ashmolean, Oxford, for the tempera exhibition already referred to. According to a Minute of the Finance Committee of 10 March 1922, the picture occupied the place of honour in the exhibition and was highly praised in the Oxford Press in a review which “expressed satisfaction that the picture was the property of a public institution”. It is a pity that that satisfaction was not better earned by that public institution.

For Pandora returned to St Andrew’s Hall and seems to have remained, forgotten and unfashionable, in the Lounge there until 1949. Early in that year the Warden, Miss Martindale, made enquiries about the possibility of getting rid of it. In the letter already quoted, Professor Neville managed to counsel caution and damn the picture with faint praise in a single sentence. “I wouldn’t venture to express an opinion on it as a work of art but it is not intolerable and I am sure hundreds of old Andrew’s students would regret its loss. It has become part of the Hall by this time and old students do resent changes that are not absolutely necessary.” The Hall Committee, doubtless swayed by the Warden, was unmoved. A Minute dated 10 February 1949 records the resolution “that arrangements be made to remove the picture Pandora from its present position in the Hall and to deposit it in some other suitable place in the University”. The first part of that resolution was carried out early in July 1949. The second part manifestly was not. We must be thankful that little damage seems to have resulted from more than forty years of neglect in the highly unsuitable basement of the Old Red Building.

The University took the opportunity to give Pandora the public display it clearly deserves when on 6 March 1992 the painting was unveiled in the University Library by the Chancellor, Lord Sherfield.

Reprinted with minor amendments from READING reading 13, Autumn 1990. Written: December 1992; updated: March 1995 (see article in situ – University of Reading University website).

Original source: Out of the box on Light on Art

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On the crest of a wave

A couple of days ago, I attended a thirty years reunion at my university with an intimate group of people from a core of us that first met in October ’86 in our hall of residence. Part of me was filled with trepidation, even resistance, at the idea of winding back the clock and yet the feeling, afterwards, was quite sublime…So much so that, when I got home, I set up a deck chair in my chilly February garden and tilted my head back for an hour’s quiet reverie with the lasts rays of the sunset on my face. Something more than just the surface level of “reunion” had just taken place and I knew I needed time to integrate.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAs good as it was (actually) to be reunited with these people after all these years, it was primarily  a sense of being reunited with myself that had swept me off my feet. Somewhere in the corridors and corners of those old-familiar places, our accommodation in those first heady months of playing at being adults in a safely accademic world, I found many remnants and clues of an earlier draft of myself. In stepped a ghost of a “me” that I had, at some point, left behind and, in our reunion, I only felt more completeness, not the regression I might have expected. Then in those hallowed spaces, gazing up at the peacock light that used to fixate me as the last rays of evening angled through the library door, I also found aspects of who I am “today”, things that hold far more meaning now than ever, so that I know how I must have sent these clues “back” to that younger self, like a guide to my own future.

Since that time, I have been through more than one life-moulding trauma and I see how I had, at some point (I thought), swept away the debris of that earlier version of self, believing there was nothing more than ashes left where her innocent and optimistic perspective used to be. These people once knew one of the players associated with my later trauma and so I also see how I detached from them, in part, to avoid dragging them into my political mess or sullying the fond memories we all shared together with what later “went wrong”. In other words, I exiled myself in order to avoid making waves…only to ride some of the biggest waves of trauma alone in the subsequent years.

Yet I also see how all the events that occurred to me in the ’90s, seemingly tipping me off my Eighth Wave perch (again, I refer to The Nine Waves of Creation, my favourite book of the moment), were a Sixth Wave backlash that – at an evolutionary level –  I “signed-up for” as the necessary entropy required to grow me ready for the next incoming wave of evolution.

In finally getting this important thing about the events of my life, I realised that not only am I on the crest of a wave now but that I always have been. Like all waves, the wave of evolution that I am “on” has risen up and sunk back down in ever varying undulations that can seem daunting, terrifying, even destructive, at very close-quarters and yet it never once stopped being the formidable, life-affirming beauty that every wave truly is seen from afar. That wave has transitioned now so that it rolls back and forth to a somewhat different rhythm and speed (much faster, in fact) and yet it feels far less pernicious; not least, because I have gained this overview.

I realised more fully than ever that I have been doing important work all this time, seeing in my own version of a new era – as all of us are doing in our own unique way, played out as the stories we so often tell ourselves are nothing more than the random accidents of circumstance sweeping us along as the unwitting “victims” of chance. Not so, and I have never before attained such a sense of coherence and reconiliation as I am now in possession of in my own life (which is where, in all cases, it really matters in order for us to co-create a “new” world).

This new level of understanding lays me to rest like no other completion moment thus far (though there will be more up ahead); hence the sublime feelings that, two days later, I still find coursing through every cells. Through my reattachment with a largely unscathed “earlier” version of self from three decades ago, I find a new level of joy is sweeping in…not becuase I have erased or even hidden all the events of the years in-between but because they are now fully integrated with the whole that I am.

Important to clarify: these people with whom I so enjoyed reacquainting myself don’t hold the only key to this me that I so like the feeling of. I don’t need to become bosom friends with them all over again; this isn’t what it is about, though I would like to stay in touch. This itself is a key thing to understand about times when a “visit to the past” feels so good to us, like we have found ourselves in our nostalgia, otherwise we can be led into thinking we “need” to kindle all sorts of old flames in order to be who or what we long to be. Newly enamoured with feelings from our “past”, we can trick ourselves into believing these external things are some sort of portal to our wholeness. No, they have simply been the catalyst to our own inner journey in consciousness and we can sometimes come across what feels like a whole treasure trove of selfhood in one particular era of “time”. This can be a clue to an oportunity that awaits us in (typically) a Night phase of the Ninth Wave – as we are currently in (see the Ninth Wave calculator HERE). I notice how I seem to have reached a 30 year portal in more ways than one in the last few days as I am also re-appraising some creative aspirations I had back then, which I thought I had let slip away but with which I now find I have unfinished business.

Playing with “time” in this super-conscious way can be such a powerful modality and we can do it using all kinds of reunions as prompts, whether going back to a particular place or listening to a piece of music that opens up our memory box. We find we didn’t so much “misplace” or “abandon” certain aspects of ourselves in those times as leave them there as a quantum marker that becomes meaningfully entangled with our “now” just as soon as we rekindle it with our consciousness, like watering a dessert seed and watching it spring into life again. That latent potential can rise up again if given the “water” of our attention yet will become quite a new version of itself, this time around; mixed in with all we have become since we first planted it, which is a quantum superposition enacted as our most intimate human experience. These personal evolutions at the quantum level (see my post Going Quantum) are how we are – each and every one of us – poised to transform literally everything we have come to experience in our history thus far, both individually and as one.


This post, of course, makes reference to the Nine Waves of Creation and will make most sense if read in conjunction with my earlier post  Using the Nine Waves to Heal Your Life and, preferably, reading Prof. Calleman’s extraordinary book.

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That place in the middle

Its been an interesting week of watching the same patterns in myself and in the world at large play out like perfect mirrors of the same theme. The Schumann Resonance that has been riding so high was countered, mid-week, by a cork-screwing solar flare on 20th February which sparked geomagnetic storms that I have been experiencing as some of the most intense inflammation in my body for a long while. By Wednesday,  I didn’t know what to do with myself, such was the uncomfortable back pain and migraine that was happening to me day and night. Not only was I being “burned” on the inside but by the burning impulse to be constantly busy doing things, all of the time…yes, burning the candle at both ends, pushing myself hard, relentlessly. Yet it wasn’t a satisfying urge to be “doing”; I felt equally frustrated by what I was doing and not doing whilst disillusioned with them all, like I couldn’t remember why they were important anymore. I wasn’t the only one; a friend across the ocean was describing the same thing and another friend that I was looking forward to seeing at the weekend cancelled her visit due to a sudden onset of burning back pain. Talking to her on the phone, she too was in a spin of female frustrations, money frustrations, art-career frustrations. In my house, tempers flared and moods swang all over the place. All of this felt like a reaction to a distinctly “yang” backlash after the rising “yin” of the Schumann; like the more this solar flare made itself known, the more an outspoken edge of the divine feminine was refusing to quiet herself longer.

In my work life, I had hit a similar sort of impasse where “what I do” meets its commercial  aspect. It’s not a new theme but, suddenly, the blind-alley that is the venture of trying to make a living out of right-hemisphere talents such as art really hit me in the face this week and I was no longer sure why I was bothering. It felt like more of the same theme; a deep and pervading frustration that had me chasing my tail doing more than ever whilst, at the same time, feeling like I had had enough of it all and wanted to quit.

It occurred to me, this sense of unfair “odds” being stacked against these right-sided skills of mine feels like another subtle but pervasive case of being the underdog in the same way as being a woman has been for the longest time. Just as there are feminists, there are artists and yet we have feminism but no “artism”; so perhaps that’s what we need – people prepared to be outspoken, to speak out for what is so out of balance – in order for us to work through what is still such an major obstruction to the “yin” coming in. In a spark of new “Nine Waves” clarity, I realised how art came to me out of nowhere at the exact mid-point of the Eighth Wave 11 years ago; literally, as a box of old paints dropped out of the cupboard and the strangest urge came over me to have a go at using them, having never painted before. Two years later, on the fifth day of that wave (the fifth day has a special evolutionary role in each wave), I made my unexpected entry into the commercial world of art when a gallery suddenly approached me, a career turn I could never have predicted from the perspective of my life just a handful of years earlier but which altered everything for me, overnight.

So, if I had any doubts that painting is a core instrument of “my” Eighth Wave coming in, my grasp of this is solid now…yet, if so, the Eighth – for me –  keeps stalling; I have to notice that since it is really so obvious from my lack of viable income from what I do. I just can’t seem to get it to FLOW in a way that, in practical ways, meets the needs of my life on this planet. If I thought this was just my problem then a reunion with a group of  friends, all hard-working and talented artists with Fine Art degrees, reaffirmed to me that making a living out of art hasn’t got any easier over the last 30 or even 10 years; all are barely making “pin” money out of their skills. How they are doing seems to be in proportion to how well they court attention via either the corporate world or the internet (both much the same in many respects) and how supportive their partner is but none of them could live off what they earn…not even nearly. Where other ways of making a living seem to be able to stand on their own two feet, we artists are made to feel like we still need to woo the kind of patronage or favour that became the art-model during the Sixth Wave; no wonder I find myself kicking-up against it!

The internet, that modus operandi of the Eighth Wave (which is feminine in its impulse, being all about the urge to  communicate) makes it look as though the world has opened up wide to provide opportunity for everybody, across a wide range of talents, and yet the artist continues to tells a different story. Not that deep beneath the surface of our world-wide web, there’s a whole other kind of inequality built into our dealings with one another that makes second-class citizens of those who are not technology-minded or who balk at playing the marketing game that turns beauty into “commodity” and other beings into cannon fodder on the way to making a hard-nosed “buck”. We readily step on each others heads on that route and, somehow, the very intention of art gets lost along the way while those producing it barely manage to feed themselves; this is hardly representative of a world in hemispherical balance.

Why is there still such a problem when it comes to thriving as someone with primarily right-hemispherical skills? Perhaps because those old Sixth and Seventh Wave mindsets (patronage, status, money, power…) still underpin the whole system as it is currently set-up. Without the ruthlessness, the money-angle, the marketing drive and the tech, artist types remain the soft filler to other people’s income-generating game. The “cuts” we are offered in return for being part of their money-making schemes are abhorrently low; ten per cent or even less for our contribution to products we design, in other words, well below subsistence level. So we either remain the underdog or find we have to cross train in left-brained skills (to a degree that left-brain oriented people don’t feel they need to bother reciprocating) in order to survive.  How is this meeting in the middle?

So, perhaps a solution is to work on our left-brained skill set; to become more technology-minded so that we can be the ones starting the business, doing our own marketing and manufacturing, playing the current paradigm at its own game…well yes, that’s a possibility but not ideal if these skills lie outside of our sweet-spot. I could think about this round and around (and indeed I have, for several years now) and yet there is no ready solution, at the practical level. Until the world meets us half-way and starts valuing – and paying for – our talents we remain the latest discrimination factor in the same way that women used to be (still are, in parts of the world); along with similar attitudes that tend to put us down and make us less-than for our artistic talents, like they are not really very serious or valuable (though people like to use them for their own ends).

So there I was  lying in bed the with beginnings of a very severe migraine yesterday, while gnashing my teeth over the fine print to an art-related internet business  contract that I was reading through late the night before and which had me spitting feathers at yet another set of unfair and impractical exclusivity conditions coupled with extremely low commissions (in other words, tying my best work to this venture yet receiving peanuts in return). But then, out of nowhere, a new spirit of determination surged up in me and I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel; could see ways that I could go with this new business model but play it my way and not to their exclusivity condition in that it wouldn’t be the only thing I give my time to but just one of many irons that I will keep warming in my furnace. I could play the system to gain more, not less, freedom and I could work loopholes around that exclusivity clause by working faster, smarter, using more tech to generate derivative work from my own prior (more painstaking) artworks that I can remain free to market in broader ways. I could have some fun, go back to being almost childlike in my playfulness and experimentation. I could grow from this new approach, learn new skills, become more computer savvy. If they want factory mindset then I could do that…easily, cleverly, speedily…whilst still doing my other stuff in my own time, having my cake and eating it. In other words I could “yin” and “yang” all at the same time, using these two angles to complement each other in support of the “whole” that is me!

The more I allowed this new wave of formidable, much more determined and uncompromised “yin” energy to rise up in me, the more my excruciating head pain seemed to recede, which seemed to run counter to logic since I normally have to pull back from any kind of excitable energy and become passive in order to turn down my worst migraines. Yet I could tell how this “yin” version of turbo-charge was quite different to its “yang” counterpart and that, rather than making me more inflamed, it seemed to discharge me, like I had hot steam venting from the crown that had been feeling so sore and pressurised a moment before. Suddenly, I was wanting to be on my yoga mat yet was having to scribble my fast-flowing ideas about all of this on a piece of paper kept next to my mat and had pages of notes written before I had finished my routine; my headache now almost gone. This was like my own personal version of the Schumann Resonance rising up from my feet to my crown, asking only to be registered and used to clear what felt most obstructed on its way through and out to meet the solar energies half way. I was that conduit and, in being it, I got to sample my own flavour of what it means to know oneness in tangible form.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOn my walk the day before, in the midst of over 50mph gusts triggered by the solar winds, I had come across a massive tree that had just been tipped over by the winds in the corner of the field, its tender innards as sinewy and white as cooked chicken breast at the sudden exposure. This huge mature tree had only recently come into bud and was all a-fuzz with the reddish pink tenderness that precedes the coming season of regeneration and growth….and yet, right on the cusp of her next evolution, one incoming gust of solar wind had taken her crashing right down to the ground. I couldn’t help noticing how, though she had reached a very great height, her trunk had forked quite close to the ground, like she was trying to split herself in two; also how she was tangled and strangled all around with so many dependent creepers that had now so abruptly lost their support. The sight of this seemed to want to remind me that when we split ourselves up in two such distinct ways we only halve our power, trying to divide up our efforts in first this way and then that way. In doing so, we omit to centre ourselves; lacking that column of core balance and its strongly rooted attachment to the earth that sustains us. That all-important groundedness into the soil of this planet, its circumstances, the bread-and-butter world all around  us is something we often forget (or refuse) to give our attention or our interest to yet our most creative urges rely on this downward plunge every bit as much they feed off the driving aspirations that come at us from the ether. We not only crave but are dependent upon the sustenance of Gaia and all her beauty yet we have allowed ourselves to give this so much less of our focus, appeciation or reward; we simply don’t act like we value beauty for beauty’s sake in the same way that we constantly demonstrate how we value material trophies, power and all those other trappings. This is what allows us to tip over in life’s strong gales, not the gale itself, and its our job to right it if we want to thrive (w)holistically. It’s this fundamental imbalance that underlies our current paradigm (still), played out in all the ways we have structured our day-to-day reality to serve left-hemisphere persepctives and the way we value – or don’t – those skills which keep us most appreciative and connected to our planet; Mother Earth, the divine feminine and the kind of beauty that makes our hearts sing.

In reaching this new place, I find I have gained a new foothold in a paradigm that is still grossly off-balance but where I now see a way forward to continue offering my gifts without total compromise to the practical matter of sustenance OR of the joy that is inherent in all that I do. These two aspects felt  like complete opposites until this point; like I was always (frustratingly) being made to chose one or the other, neither of them even close to ideal. Those times that I have ventured into the hard-nosed commercial approach to art have always syphoned away the very source of my inspiration, leaving my creativity as dry as a piece of splintered wood. I now have a way forward…tentative as that is; can see how I might even spiral my talents to a new level on the back of the new challenge that I’m prepared to take on under these new terms (my terms),  allowing my creative urge to continue to thrive and to express in an unfettered way, using new oportunities but not making myself a servant of them. It might even be fun – I feel quite excited. Until the world more readily encourages those of us with these gifts by offering the steady income streams that match our abilities as are offered to those with more left-brained abilities, we must take our first steps to remain grounded and sustained and then draw the “yang” to us in ways that enhance what it is that we already do, without compromise to the spirit of that which we offer, which is not commercially driven in the same way as more left-brained pursuits. Somewhere in that middle ground, I like to think, I have found my own personal place of unity consciousness in action and perhaps it is this one step, from each of us, to the middle line that will see us all meeting there some time very soon.


Related posts:

Using the Nine Waves to Heal Your Life  for more on how to work with the Nine Waves of Creation in some very practical ways. The Nine Waves of Creation by Carl Johan Calleman, PhD is a remarkable book outlining a quantum-hollographic pattern of evolution that has modelled the world as we have known it across several distinct stages since the beginning of our history, culminating in the activation of the new age of unity consciousness that is currently unfolding.

Migraine as the primal scream of the suppressed feminine on my website Living Whole

The realities of art-selling as a spotlight on our culture: Are we ready to evolve yet? on my blog Light on Art

Posted in Art, Art purpose, Art transformation tool, Consciousness & evolution, Divine feminine, divine masculine, Health & wellbeing, History, Life choices, Life journey, Menu, Personal Development | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Beyond doubt

Like many people I keep company with, I subscribe to a wide variety of material and thoughts from the academic to the (by some people’s standards) completely woo-woo; and the path through it all – me! My resonance is my only guide. Often the connections from one side to the other of this broad field are quite startling and, where they cross over, I find myself.

I deeply admire those who delve into the unknown seeking to keep to the neatly mown paths of the empirical in order to garner credibility. Yet I smile to see how a number of so-called accidental tweaks of direction in my own life have parted me from that well-kemp path, for good reason since it would have trimmed my wings. I could have so easily chosen the path of the academic…yet here I am, the explorer of many things, master of none.

For what more “proof” do I need except for myself; I Am that proof.  We all get to become the so-called proof of a new world that our previous world failed to believe in…since we had no evidence for it until it manifested. As we lead ourselves along the winding path that is beyond doubt, thus needing nothing more than ourselves to be that benchmark in the experience field, we become the only proof we ever needed, as ONE.

To do otherwise is like chasing down the wave distinct from the particle or trying to see both simultaneously; we are so busy looking outside of ourselves for these elusive things that we fail to notice how we are already that which we seek. We are masterfully being both, all at the same time….over and over again, in every moment.

joshua-earle-14603.jpgLet life itself prove what it needs to in each moment, only to prove something different before we can nail that thing down or build walls around it; this is how we evolve most swiftly. When our thoughts no longer recoil from that fear of being checked by an opinion, a doubt, a precedent that holds sway, we become our most creative selves, weaving experience across the most magnificent tapestry of infinite colours made up of synchronistically overlapping threads from all directions. We open up like a magnificent flower that never ceases from blooming; no longer cut off in our prime.

A little freedom from doubt can be useful in our practical lives, its good to know our train will turn up, the sun will rise, we will have food on our table…but when we absolutely insist upon it, it turns down all our dials, makes us stupid and childlike in our need to check in with others before we believe in our own thoughts.

We can’t define where we are headed, there is no map, yet we can feel our way there; letting feelings meet the mind at least half way. When we do this, we are like the blind person whose other senses become more receptive, finely tuned, remarkable. We develop a second-sight that takes us further than we have been before.

Patterns beguile us yet they can tie us down to the tight weft of an old cloth when, really, we want to be weaving a gauzier web. When we only ever use the past to define the future, we repeat that pattern even though we think we are expanding out from it since we are still tied to its centre, afraid to unhook.

When we let go of the anchor of what we think we know, we can feel so afraid, it can unhinge us, make us feel like we are losing our mind yet perhaps we are regaining it. This is the frontline of our highest possibility and it can feel like free-falling to go with the inner guidance of what feels true for us in each moment beyond what feels safe and well-defined. We feel like we might fall down the cracks between realities and yet we are our own guide rope, our own continuity. We  look back at where we were (so fundamentally doubtful in all our “safe” knowing) and realise that, in this new place, doubt is still there and then gone again…back again then dissolved…constantly renewing and revoking in each moment, so fast that there is simply no time to build any proof structures, which pre-suppose that there is anything to prove against. Suddenly, we are affirming, not defending; following the path of light. So now we are beyond doubt…not in the sense there is no doubt but in that we no longer live according to its stern wagging finger but are joyful, fearless, open-minded and free.

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Going quantum

Here’s what I’m noticing at this remarkable time: I’m noticing that the Schumann Resonance is “up” like never before; by a factor of 5 compared to it usual behaviour (something I wrote about on 5th February in my post “Keeping Your Vibration Up High” on my website Living Whole). I’m noticing, in tandem with that, my body is registering peculiar nerve sensations on the left side of my body (related to the right brain hemisphere) from the feet up, something never experienced before across more than a decade of having a super-sensitised nervous system during which almost everything has been happening on the right of my body. In fact it was this sudden switch-over that made me consider that something energetic was happening under my feet for a change, which led me to find out about the Schumann Resonance being so unusually high, which is (I discovered) being talked about across the internet. It led me, last night, to an article by Dr Joe Dispenza, written a couple of weeks after I made my own speculation about this new development being evolutionary in nature, in which he states the following:

Increases in frequency create increases in consciousness, and when our consciousness increases, we have greater awareness—and that’s what gamma brain waves are. Gamma brain waves, which can be more than twice as high as high beta brain waves, represent an aroused state in the brain, however, they are not connected to the survival states of emergency mode, but correlated with a kind of super consciousness and awareness, as well as higher amounts of love and compassion. As the earth goes through her metamorphosis, maybe we too have to transition through this time of emotional intensity related to beta brain waves before we enter a new consciousness of gamma brain wave states. And wouldn’t that upgrade our nervous system and expand our perception and awareness of reality?

Perhaps we are on the verge of a great evolutionary jump.

The fact I am no longer alone in drawing such a conclusion from this news about the Schumann Resonance heartens me in my positive interpretation of what feels like an extremely interesting turn of events.

Then I’m noticing all the ways that this upsurge in Gaia’s “heartbeat”  presents differently to when we have solar events playing out, which (as I’ve written about many times now) register in my nervous system as some of my most familiar “symptoms”. What is starkly different is that solar events tend to trigger my neurology starting with my head and working downwards, primarily on the right side of my body; associated with the left hemisphere of the brain.

Hmmm. This led me to ask the inevitable, are we seeing more examples of “yin and yang” in action here (subject of my recent post); played out through these complementary impulses of the earth beneath our feet and the star at the centre of our solar system –  two formidable forces pushing us to our next level of evolution? I can’t help but think so. For a long time, I’ve observed certain trends when the sun is active, as it is right now following a flare on 20th February (described on Space Weather thus – “SOLAR TORNADO OVER-ROTATES, EXPLODES: Yesterday, an explosion on the sun’s eastern limb hurled a twisted plume of debris more than 250,000 km above the solar surface..”). These solar events can feel extraordinarily “yang” in their impulse and the sun has been associated with the masculine aspect for as long as we have had the civilisations to talk about it. Conversely, the Schumann Resonance feels like “yin” in action. I am now wondering whether, as the Schumann Resonance has been on the increase (since a moderate peak in 2014; but nothing so dramatic as we have seen in 2017), the push-back of the sun leaves us “stranded” for a time in the beta frequency range, which can induce feelings of over-arousal, imbalance and survival fear. What if the Schumann Resonance uses those times of solar flare to push hard against the counterforce and then, when the sun suddenly eases off, that’s when the Schumann rockets over that frequency edge into the gamma range that is associated with superconsciousness, awareness, love and compassion?  I  can’t help noticing how the Schumman Resonance exactly lives up to the idea of yin as “shadow” since she is to be found where the sun (solar energy) is not. In otherwords, she provides the very opposite impulse to those energetics that come at us from the direction of the sun (I like to think of them as yin and yang yodelling to each other more so than in some sort of conflict), and we get caught in the evolutionary cross-fire of their cosmic interaction.

In my own experience, solar events tend to present as migraines, heat, acidity, inflammation and a feelings of overstimulation (instigated at the time of the event; which points at a quantum connection to the sun). In fact, I’ve learned, the best way to cope is to go deeply towards the opposite impulse and make life as “yin” for myself as possible until things settle down. For some time, I have been noticing (such as my localised world  presents such observations) an increase in aggressive or hostile behaviour; or perhaps I am simply being more vigilant myself at these times. For instance, I always notice a trend of email scams targeting artists like myself with attempted sales using fake payment methods at these times when the sun is active. Also an increase in cases of fly-tipping in the countryside where I walk. These are fundamentally hostile, “couldn’t-care-less about other people or the planet” behaviours that set out to use and abuse other people since they come from a separation and  survival-fear perspective. This very morning, in the wake of the solar storm overnight, I had to suddenly swerve around a huge pile of concrete and other rubbish abandoned in the middle of a narrow country lane next to a blind bend, dumped in such a way that could so easily cause a head-on collision between two cars yet the perpetrator clearly had no care for that versus saving the cost and effort of going to the municipal tip. I notice in myself a rise in the frustrations I feel around making a living (survive fears) that seldom come up at other times since I tend to prioritise other things, most of the time. A friend has just cancelled her visit due to a sudden onset of extreme back pain and my daughter is consumed with frustration to do with  the “competitive” vibe at school. It’s like our dials get turned up suddenly at these times…yet most people hardly notice the patterns since they are looking at everything through eyes that are deeply invested in all the twists and turns of the survival “stories” they think they are locked into.

Yet when I registered the Schumann coming up so high, I couldn’t help noticing new feelings coming up with it; ones which were a power match of anything the sun has ever given rise to in my physical body and yet…different. I notice how there has been a new level of joined-up thinking about everything I am doing and collaborating upon with others, across a whole vast range of subjects. I feel inspired yet constantly surprised by the unexpected twists and turns of life’s most synchronistic flow. There is something newly imaginative about the subplots that are unexpectedly unfolding for me, as though life is now moving along to a rather magical script written by me at the highest level and everything dipped in gilt-edged potential. All of this feels energised…a bit like a solar flare can make me feel…yet in a different, softer way. I have had all these bizarre nerve pains ebbing and flowing in my foot, leg and hip… yet have kept myself  out of fear; knowing, somehow, it is all perfectly fine, a sign that Gaia is now stretching, yawning…and meeting the sun half-way. In other words, in some very fundamental way, I know I am untouched and unfazed by whatever presents to my physical body (my decade’s experience of weird and wonderful symptoms has taught me this) and am able to focus on the place where I am more than intact as the true focus of my reality. So, perhaps our most physical provocations are the very balancing act we have been waiting for, encouraging us to find a middle way where we are already whole and as one.

What’s this got to do with “going quantum”? Well, everything, it feels like, since as these two aspects play out their merry dance, I am left more than ever with that growing sense of the observer sat between them; the “I” that is watching the show. As has long been the story of my health journey, the more I pull back and observe that which is neither of these traits or sequences of events, the more I feel the sense of a new reality birth as “all that I am”, in the most abstract sense, is made even more tangible than what I used to think of as my “concrete” physical reality. Then, with the kind is synchronicity that is a prime instrument of the quantum perspective, I notice the same triangulation – two distinct “sides” and, in between them, the void that is me – play out across so many different aspects of life. Suddenly these triangles of experience are everywhere…and me sat like the pyramid point on the top of them all, experiencing what it feels like to be the unifier of everything in my experience realm.

For instance, I’m teaching myself the piano and it hadn’t escaped my notice how this instrument was an interesting choice in a year that feels all about bringing left and right hemispheres together. So, of course, I’ve been getting slowly used to using both hands on the keyboard at the same time and, yesterday, plunged into learning Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. For two hours, I practiced those left and right hand parts separately then together, inching closer to harmonious collaboration all the time but still in such a studied and mechanical way. But it was when I woke this morning with a far more accomplished version of the piece already playing in my head that I somehow knew today’s practice would go better; since I had managed to internalise the melody and make it my own, beyond the learned and rather hesitant mechanics of first this hand then that hand (which is, you could say, how we have experienced the various stages of our evolution thus far, flipping from one hemisphere to the other and back again). This is what every musician brings to their instrument and the sheet music on the page; the unfathomable quality that is uniquely theirs and which makes their interpretation quite different to the way anyone else would play the same piece. We all do a version of this every day without even noticing most of the time; seldom placing our attention on that all-important space between our activities that is so uniquely “us” and which observes everything else that is going on and yet which stands back from it all. This is the quantum void that is neither particle or wave but something in between, choosing in each moment which way to go and opening whole new portals of possibility through the expansions of its limitless perspective. Its how we create our own unique reality and its time we realised how much scope we really have to play with this; to make our experience of life the way we really want it to be.

stefan-stefancik-106115.jpgI’ve been playing with the quantum perspective for years now and it comes very naturally for me to seek out the spaces where my mind gets to step into unlimited possibility, to find that sweet spot where I get to drive whatever manifests next through what I chose to focus on. And now, having taken The Nine Waves of Creation so seriously, I feel very strongly that  what we are seeing occur here is the Ninth Wave in action (see my previous posts Using the Nine Waves to Heal your life and Consciously Creating with the Ninth Wave). A friend of mine, who has also read Prof. Calleman’s book, pointed out that all the various left-right (black and white) hemispherical diagrams in the book, relative to the various evolutionary waves that we have been subjected to thus far in our history, resemble binary code: in other words, black and white could equate to 0:1, rearranged in a different format for each wave. My goodness, yes, she has a point and then this slotted into my own experiences of the Ninth Wave, which feel profoundly quantum in nature; like this quantum quality is what makes it quite different to all the previous waves in a similar way to how quantum computing is different to the binary computers that came before. For instance, when the Night phases of the Ninth Wave take me back “in time” to other eras in history in such a visceral way, it feels like quantum entanglement in action; like part of me is simultaneously existing in “those other times” and yet….there’s no mistaking it…I am profoundly aware that I am driving all those prior versions of self from THIS current perspective, like I am sat in a control room selecting  my choices from a giant switchboard. Perhaps the coincidence of more than one cellular memory of a previous wave during the “night” phase of the Ninth Wave is the equivalent of a superposition, creating a new quantum state out of a combination of a variety of other states…and that super-mind tying them together, us!

In other words, when two or more waves overlap, they have the potential to magnify themes that they share in common (for instance, where fifth and eighth wave themes coincide, this could exacerbate the effect of the “yin” or feminine traits that they have in common) or they could simply cancel each other out but, ultimately, as the conscious experiencer, we get to choose.

In other words, memories, emotions, thematic flashbacks, outdated belief systems, a whole variety of traumas or limited ways of seeing the world can flash through the mind and experience (and often do) during those phases….and yet, I know from experience, it’s just an opportunity to pick and choose, to iron out, to make different, to use those old building blocks like an under layer or foundation on which to build something more enlightened. I get to BE that creator-god in action, dipping my hand into all the perspectives of multiple lifetimes and select for myself what to carry forwards into the “day” phase that follows swiftly on its heels. And in those “day” phases of the Ninth Wave, it’s as though I am lit up with new possibilities; things tend to materialise almost as fast as I set those newly enlightened intentions to work on them and I can SENSE so powerfully how I drive it all with the focus of my mind. Previously hidden doorways seem to open up, the kind of people and information that evaded me a short time before suddenly appear right before my eyes (is this how I found Dr Dispenza’s article in such a timely way, as though I jumped timelines as soon as I considered that the Schumann Resonance had evolutionary significance?) and many pieces of life’s jigsaw fall effortlessly into place. The only limitation to ANYTHING, in the Ninth Wave, is how we choose to direct our minds including how well we come to know (and trust) our own power of focus and how fundamentally open and optimistic we are to allow anything to happen.

This IS the quantum mind in action and we are just starting to get our feel of all those new switches in a control room that has never been so expanded or unlimited in human form. In fact, we hardly dare believe that its true and so we so-often self-sabotage ourselves back to square one, failing to see how the super-power we have will keep looping us backwards (just as easily as forwards) if we focus too much on the shadows during the “night” phases, when we are tempted by so much that still evokes emotion and learned behaviour traits. So many of us still dive into those flashbacks of old only to lose ourselves back in the mire of them, missing that they are now (in the Ninth Wave) merely flashcards of opportunity and that there’s no NEED to keep jumping back in with both feet. I saw something in my newsfeed yesterday, one of those posts that are becoming so popular about how the divine feminine is hung all-around with the wounds of so many witch-hunts and tortures, so many eons of not being seen or heard ; well, yes, but if we keep licking those old wounds, using social media to keep pumping out verbose descriptions of all that we’ve been through “in the past”, shoving graphic images of our trauma beneath the impressionable eyes of a tentatively awakening public, we are only going to keep dragging humanity back into even more trauma. This is so important to know about the quantum perspective – to our mind, the visuals we conjure up in imagination are just as real as anything that is happening right now in front of us since it makes no distinction between memory and experience. We’ve ALL been through vast amounts of trauma before – that’s everyone, without exception – so we are at a choicepoint: we can choose to stay there or we can say enough now, lets focus on what we really want to manifest as our reality.

As soon as we get the feel of that quantumly creative void that is absolutely ours to wallpaper and decorate as we choose, we get to move this show along now; manifesting a world that far exceeds anything we have imagined since we haven’t fully opened that box yet, having always held back until now. So we can notice the push and pull on our planet with great interest now (and there will be a great deal more push and pull yet…) and we can choose to get excited by what we hope it all means; yes. Above all, we can allow ourselves to know that, ultimately, we get to decide what it all means and how it turns out…which is to take hold of the super-potential of the quantum void  to be found inside  of all things in creation; that’s everything we think of as most solid, including us. This is where we create from, this is where we are already whole, this is the aspect from which we get to lead the process of realising unity consciousness on this planet…guided from the “place” where it already resides. This is what it really means to “go quantum” and its an opportunity that awaits us all the very moment we choose from this place.


If looking at the world through quantum “eyes” still phases you, there is a really accessible, award-winning film that might help to make it more relatable to your everyday experiences. Its called What the Bleep Do We Know!? (available to stream via the link) and is how I discovered Dr. Joe Dispenza and his blog. Here’s his article as refered to above – “What does the spike in the Schumann Resonance Mean?

Keeping your vibration Up High” is my original article about the up-turn of the Schumann Resonance on Living Whole

The Nine Waves of Creation – a paradigm shifting book by Carl Johan Calleman PhD

Posted in Books, Consciousness & evolution, Divine feminine, divine masculine, Health & wellbeing, Life choices, Life journey, Menu, Personal Development, Recovery chronic illness, Space weather, Spirituality | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Lets sort this out, what are “yin” and “yang”?

“Yin and yang” – I talk about them such a lot but what are they in our everyday lives, beyond some abstract idea or a symbol we see daubed on the side of camper vans and on people’s tattoed flesh? Well yes, they are very “real”aspects of human existence; pivotal, in fact, to where we are in our evolution and yet how many of us have a clue what these things really are? As  phrases such as “the masculine” and “the feminine” become increasingly fashionable parlance in our world, it strikes me that many of us are  still no clearer what it is we refer to (this has nothing to do with gender) and even I find myself stumped to adequately do justice to the topic when put on the spot though I feel like I have very real, relatable experience of both yin and yang, which is why I am making them the topic of so much of my writing. Both abstract yet utterly fundamental to our very existence  – is this the nature of the beast, are we really confused into not knowing ourselves to this degree? So, while confusion reigns or we treat them as some sort of weird spiritual concept with no applicable meaning in our lives, how do we get any closer to using what we understand about yin and yang to recalibrate our experience of the human condition? This is really important stuff we are so studiously side-stepping or being so flippant about and I want to take a deeper dive into what it is that I have come to know about these very different aspects of our reality play out together.

There at the heart of that sentence is the very “issue” we have at hand; this tendency to see them as divided, as black and white, or Venus and Mars…you get the idea but is that really the case? The way we talk about them, you would think Yin and Yang were some sort of cartoon couple presenting for marriage counselling. Some of us tend to regard the “yin” or the feminine as the heart and the “yang” as the mind….just another way of looking at it…but it took a friend to suggest to me that it was actually the other way around (and me to bristle with all the uncomfortable feelings of what felt like a territorial invasion) for me to notice how neither perspective is strictly “correct” so why the hot-under-the collar reaction that rose up in me? This “competitive edge” feels like the very problem that underpins the current stand-off between two so-called divergent ways of looking at the world; flagging up how off-target we have got since they are not meant to be in conflict at all, in fact they are so deeply woven INTO one another that they are irrevocable tied to each other’s fate (this is what we have so far missed…which is what has been the “downfall” of humanity thus far). When we suppress either the masculine OR the feminine, the black or the white, the east or the west, the logical or the spiritual (you get the idea….) we all stand to lose out; there is no choice to be made. The wholeness to which we are heading, evolutionarily speaking, requires that we really start to get this in some extremely practical ways and at all levels of our lives!

yin_yang-svgSo lets get to it by summoning a more practical visual in our mind’s eye. For a prop, conjure up the familiar yin-yang symbol. The yin/feminine is considered to be the “black” part of this and the yang/masculine the “white”; and this derives from the idea that the yang is “light” and yin “shadow” (a concept which goes all the way back to ancient culture…and that’s not just a Chinese idea since all of our ancestors seem to have had a version of this symbol and its associated meaning). This is one of the areas where we have got ourselves all ravelled up in recent times since people confuse shadow with “bad” or regard earth as somehow “less than” sun; missing the point that without something “other” than unlimited light we would have no experiences at all but would remain as one with source. On the premise we chose to have an experience of something, earth is that very thing from which all of our tangible human experiences derive or are birthed (like a seed from the soil, child from the womb…) and any artist knows that a painting is nothing without its dark spaces, its contrasts without which it would be impossible to create anything of definition. Our very creativity as human beings – which is source getting to express and thus know itself in form – derives from the ability to dip our brushes in that shadow, making outlines with our “brush”, so that we get to choose the void spaces that we want to be held within those lines; which is yin in a nutshell. More on that later.

So, first notice the complementary dot or circle in each half. This is absolutely key and occurs at every level of life, from the way energy plays out in our human bodies to the way the world and even the universe organises itself (yes, as described by Prof. Carl Calleman in his book “The Nine Waves of Creation” even the universe is organised according to the masculine and feminine divide…..) But then, this is not a system of one versus the other and  it is crucial to note that each of these aspects incorporates an expression of the other within itself….like those circles on the symbol above.

In other words, without the “white” circle inside the “black” portion of the symbol, we do not have the yin and without the “black” circle inside the white symbol we do not have the yang. Each of them are both black and white, not either-or. It is the composite  of both that is just so important and yet it is the very factor that seems to get overlooked or down-played all the time, possibly because we have been entrained to be so adverse to the concepts of “darkness” or “shadow” that we try to pretend it’s not there, seeing only light.

yinLets look at it in ways with which we are more familiar; in terms of our actual life experiences. The yin could be said to be the heart as “love” (I’m not talking about the physical organ), held within the human body which is the tangible structure that “creates shadows” and which defines our edges as this person or that person (you could say, a “black” outline shape with a white “heart” circle lit-up inside). Love itself is like a white void…not in the sense of being empty but of being fundamentally undefined, unconditional and universal to us all. This is the level at which we all connect with one another, regardless of all the trimmings of life. Our physicality serves as a “hard” supportive vessel to the ephemeral “heart”, like a chalice that supports something so fluid that, without its sides, it would disappear into the vast sea of everything; so, put together, they become our holy grail, you could say (which is why our out-of-balance culture has developed such a strong sense of seeking that grail like something we have mislaid). A distortion of that is when we can only see our light in the dark; thus we keep generating dark structures/circumstances in which to hold up our candle flame; which has fed our history much more than we probably yet own.

yangWhen we make our humanness central to our experience rather than the heart; like a solid backbone structure to everything we know, the softness of our experiences gather on the outside of that and so we – potentially – get to look out upon a vast unlimited reality from a sort-of anchor point of human perspective, which offers us such a great deal of material with which to play, not to mention a feeling of security since we become attached to the feelings of familiarity and control that come with the turf. This attachment can morph into our biggest problem and the whole paradigm of such an experience can turn into a monstrous stronghold that we defend like a fortresses lest anybody should come and knock a hole in what we think we know and “own”. We can get carried away with ideas of the mind and a sort-of addiction to how powerful we think these make us at the centre of our own universe, ceasing to see anything else. When this happens, evolution is seemingly halted in its tracks (or at least, its breaks are slammed on though it can never be fully interfered with). In its most divine expression, the yang perspective of experience was always meant to serve us with the most creative potential imaginable; a whole universe with which to play freely, using the inventiveness of our minds…and yet the overriding impulse to strength and control what we think we know has, so-far, insisted upon bolstering what is human and denying all else. This is the yang in its most distorted and counter-evolutionary form and is the era of our history that we are just emerging from.

Neither yin or yang perspetcives are “wrong” or less-than although their distortions, when either of them get out of balance, can create systemic problems at all levels of human experience. It’s when we put the two together as one balanced unit that we get to realise the wholeness that is our destiny; now realizable as never before in the whole of our human history.

Where we have been before in that history has tended to emphasise one “side” at the expense of the other. We have had our matriarchal perspectives before (and they have been reasserting themselves again recently) where it was all about this expansive soft experience with the little human within that infinite scheme, regarded as smaller by far than this endless sea of connectivity linking all life together as one giant organism of barely tangible energy. Yet within that scheme, there was a real power to being human, albeit the kind of power that was unfathomable, unmeasurable…we somwhow knew what we were in the great scheme of things without the words or hard-edged concepts to describe ourselves. Then the scales tipped and the masculine asserted, turning everything inside out. The desire to label and decipher, to own, predict and control, to expand and compete for more….all these urges grew out of the masculine. This territorial expansion of “what we believed ourselves to be” was at once empowering in that we now claimed to be (and thus acted as) the masters of our universe and yet it was also deadly limiting since we became the inmates of our own mental prison cell. Our whole world was suddenly limited to the capacity of the human mind, which only knows what it has experienced before. Without empirical evidence or “proof”, nothing could truly exist and so we were condemned to live life in endless circles, seldom spiralling out of our own dire circumstance since we could only manifest what was predictable, based on what history had shown us. While very small lip service has been given to our more imaginative, intuitive viewpoints (things we envision or know without knowing how we know them…), these have largely been out of favour for a very long time now. No one really takes those other “wacko” perspectives seriously to this day; which is the fault of our current paradigm.

In the human body, the territorial urge of the yang – to keep creating things and making them manifest in solid form, at the cellular level – can backfire in a world out of balance, expressing as the kind of disease that chooses the very tangible materials of lymph, organ and bone as its building blocks; including to create cancer. Cells backfire or get greedy, hard-shelled barriers are built and suddenly we have some of the most deadly illnesses of our time which…through our determination to fight them, which is only to push back against them with more of the very energy that they are an expression of…we create endless wars that really have no victor in the end.

Conversely, when the yin backfires in human form, she chooses the most ephemeral means of expression that she can; which, in the human body, such as fluid or, better still, electrical impulses…the realms of tissue inflammation and then leading into the domain of the central nervous system where chaotic signals can be fired across large distances in no time at all, creating havoc on a very broad scale. This allows the yin impulse to play out as “flow” in action; made manifest as us, using the most cobwebby structures that we have at our disposal in order to move swiftly from one area of the body to the next whilst constantly evading being pinned down, diagnosed or labelled. Really, the level at which this all happening is quantum; the level where thoughts drive cells, which is why healing modalities that make use of that quantum level of existence, not to mention meditation and mindfulness, are far more potent than pills in this area

The gift arrives in either of these situations as soon as we realise that both the yin and the yang have a place in our biology and, when they over-express in either of these ways, it is because they have so-far been denied proper expression in ways that would manifest as homeostasis in the body. In ways both subtle and overt (could even be deeply buried in our subconscious) we have omitted to include them in some way or other and so balance is being asserted for us; through us…as cells that speak our truth for us, until we notice. Perhaps now more than ever, this systemic rebalancing act will assert itself through the biology of people that are most in need of this timely mission to reclaim their wholeness just as we all do this together on a global level. I say this from the personal stance of having watched such a recalibration play out in my own cells over the last 16 years and beyond.

In other words, when the extreme expression of either yin or yang reaches its tipping point in our system, the in-built antidote to that extremism arrives as its very opposite flowing at its heart; the circle within the symbol, that we might see it more clearly. Like the antidote that grows close to the “poison”, so our own answer lies inbuilt within us and, when it first starts to manifest, it often seems chaotic, destructive and like the very opposite of what we are all about (like a “stranger” or enemy in our own camp)….since it is that very opposite; necessarily so. This is how the yin or the yang (whichever is most called for, in order to recalibrate) expresses itself in counterpoise with what was too-loudly having its say before that.

So, in our era of entrenched science arrives the quantum perspective to blow all empirical theory apart and in the hardness of our cancers, did we but know it (I have a friend working with this very thing) we find the loving perspective that was at the heart of the very reason this thing started to grow in us….for all it really wanted was the opportunity to experience the unleashed creativity that so many of us have written out of the story of our lives. I strongly suspect that understanding this “creative” and “loving” aspect of cancer is an in-road to cancer prevention and treatment that will be explored in the future; as we start to really work with the connection between our suppressed emotions and desires as made manifest in the cells of the body.

Likewise, in time, that aspect of yin that feels suppressed and unheard, that longs to find voice, that has no place in the world as we have currently made it since a world based on “proof” gives no credence to that which “just knows”, that is innate; that aspect will find other means to express than through the misfiring cells of the planet or the human body. Once we allow this aspect to “talk” and be listened to, there will be no need for the most unfathomable expressions of our planet or of our human spirit, which is currently wailing in the frustration and pain of being ignored. We will hear Gaia’s cries as sensitively as we currently drill and manipulate and suppress her living systems as though we own them; and in our human beings (whether male or female) we will encourage and reward expression of that which is without label, currency or proof as equally as we currently give credence to what we think we know “as concrete” from the machinations of our logical mind.

So, going back to my original point, the yin is neither the heart nor the mind but the heart WITHIN the structure of the physical human body, the white dot of light within the “dark” space (you could say shadow…in the sense that anything that is made of structure creates shadow when stood in the path of the light). So, the yin is not the shadow so much as the shadow that includes the light within; making that light possible, “black and white” together as one. The heart-flame is like a candle that lights up that space from within…and yet, without the dark, there would be no contrast to show up that light since there would be light everywhere. I have come to experience this most viscerally through the journey of my health; the dark path of which has shown up so many lights that I might not otherwise have come to experience. The fact this journey coincided with the activation of the Eighth Wave in our evolution process (I refer you once again to Prof. Calleman’s book “The Nine Waves of Creation“) is no coincidence to me; telling me that the yin – consisting of both darkness and light together – was in full expression-mode for me during those years, bringing me back to wholeness. There is a space within that yin where all things are already known and fully reconciled, even while the physical shell of “not knowing” and utter confusion seems to surround it and this place is where the most profound healing has taken place, for me, in recent years.

Conversely, the yang is not the mind per se but the mind within the context of a spiritual, ephemeral, impossible-to-pin-down universe that will continue to elude that ever-seeking mind for as long as there is electricity sparking through its neurology (“black within white”, both together, in the opposite configuration to yin). The human condition, at once, separates the human mind from truly ever “knowing all” while providing all the great incentives for that mind to keep seeking and longing to know. And so, within the context of a broader spiritual awareness (not closed off in some sort of empirical nightmare where proof is everything…), the open mind becomes “source seeking to know itself”, which is the very pivot-point (such as we can ever truly understand what the point of life is…) of life.

When we put these two aspects together (that inquisitive open mind fuelled by the incentive of all that it can see in the light of day and the tender torchlight of the heart that shines unconditionally in all circumstances including darkness), we have the yin and yang in perfect partnership; neither truly complete without the other. Perhaps once we stop insisting on such a hard definition between what is “light” and “dark” in our experiences we will start to heal what feels most unhealable in our world. Try insisting to those who take a stance about cancer that the motivation of those cells is a love of creativity longing to make itself manifest in form and watch the typical reaction of incredulity and even anger that unfolds (my friend with cancer deals with this almost every day). We are so entrenched, even in these areas where we consider ourselves so enlightened and, until we stop taking sides and fighting what we think we know at these levels, the struggle of life will continue to play out in the most unbridled way. When we allow the most brittle, obstructive, nonnegotiable structures of our world to be seen as creative love in action (at some level of their motivation), they are received back as love and so their hard walls dissolve into light. When this happens, we are left with their core motivation (no longer walled in) which is the darkly defined circle in a sea of universal light; a desire to be here, to manifest as something, to create what hasn’t been created before in a sea of all potential. When we bear witness to this desire to create, we get to channel it into other pursuits of our chosing; creative activities that uplift us and others around us and no longer require our cells to aggressively misfire and entrench their way into being. The same could be said of our world at large…

Likewise, so many people are in resistance to giving form and expression to the most ephemeral ideas that they cradle in their heart; holding them secretly or even fearfully to their chest yet much too guarded and bashful to say them where they will be heard in a world that feels judgemental and obsessed with “proof” and “credentials”. Say them or find some means of expressing them, I urge you; or they WILL express in other ways and, ultimately, through the most bizarrely ephemeral, impossible to pin-down health conditions that will keep you entrenched in so much confusion you will feel like you are losing your mind. This is the body’s way of insisting that you take what is intangible, undiagnosed and, often, not given any credence by others your full and serious attention; more so than anything you previously thought you knew with your mind. It becomes a training ground for making the yin an equal partner in your experience range; until you know the ropes and can extend that practice to all aspects of your life. If words elude you, give this desire to express the inexpressible some paint to play with (as I did) and then let that confidence lead you to where you do, finally, dare to give them words and watch how your life (and the lives of those around you, encouraged by how you lead the way…) begins to blossom. Most of all, let it express as you; as love. This is the flower of the yin opening up from the heart, a process that only starts with the dark soil that feeds its roots.

This post is, itself, such an expression of what some might consider impossibly abstract and without demonstrable substance and yet the gifts keep arriving from my growing courage to say outloud what others might pass by as the deluded machinations of a rambling mind that thinks it sees well beyond the mind’s limitations. Those gifts include the growing number of people that make contact to share their resonance and the many ways that these perspectives are impacting their lives in some very tangible ways. Here is one of the first clues that a great rebalancing is presently underway; that more and more people are prepared to consider experiencing life without the filter of seeing it all one way or the other, entrenched in ideas of right and wrong, black and white, proven or no. This inevitably leads to the kind of wholeness that  our world very-much needs at this evolutionary juncture; and it all starts with us.

 

Posted in Consciousness & evolution, Divine feminine, divine masculine, Life journey, Menu, Personal Development, Universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Polishing-up your energy field

When we are similar, but not the same, as another (whether that “other” takes the form of an individual person, a point of view or a full-blown community or movement) that similarity can take us on a journey of self-discovery; one which calls us to step in and play our unique part, which may be to say “enough” to those differences at some point. It’s a key part of the process of recognising our “I”-ness when we spot these subtle variations from our own theme and say “no thank you” to them; which is to live most closely as our divine self since this is exactly why Source came into living form – to better know itself from many angles. Your angle is unique to you and you are here to express that viewpoint through your actions and choices, honing that experience by saying “yes” and even “no” to situations that present themselves in each moment, remaining fluid and responsive, not dogmatic and habitual, which only slows you down to the point of hardly evolving at all. People can get so confused by that; they become so focussed upon “oneness” that they think, at some level, they have to stop expressing opinion or individuality and say yes to everything. To do so is to miss the point of being human where the most direct route to realising your highest aspect in form – as part of a collective – is to be yourself as closely and expertly as you can possibly be and this is so much more important than all those alliances and affiliations with which you may have cluttered-up your life along the way.

In other words, the occasional clear-out of some of the people and things that clutter-up our life is as essential as clearing out those cupboard of old stuff we don’t know why we keep any more…and it should be attended to as often as possible. Especially on social media, we form these knee-jerk attachments to individuals and ideas that we forget to re-evaluate further down the road and so we just leave them there, attached to our energy field for the longest time spans. Having a good clear-out has never been more important than at this time as we upward-spiral ourselves to a brand new reality faster than we would have ever thought was possible before.

We all know it before we embark on such a project: some of the supposed matches we have made with other expressions of energy (since that is what people and ideas are…) may look like they are familiar to us at first (like versions of ourselves mirrored back at us) but, scratch under the surface, and many of them aren’t at all. We may have formed these attachments years ago before we changed so unutterably that we’re simply not that person anymore; or it may be a case that this thing seemed more familiar than it really was because of something it seemed to represent to us when we first came across it. We tend to dive upon these familiarities when we see them, especially if we carry the burdensome belief that we are particularly unusual to the vast majority of other people or that we don’t really fit in. This makes us more desperate than ever to “find our tribe” and we can tend to imagine we see this tribe in all sorts of places where, really, what we are seeing reflected back is our own wishful thinking. So this person or entity expresses an idea or two and we think “ah, that’s me” and we follow them…and half a decade later, there they still are, in our morning newsfeed. We build whole structures such as communities and even close friendships around them (which is not to say that all of these have to go) and yet….long after this pivot-point truly resonates…we ignore the uncomfortable truth that this person or thing no longer speaks to the truth in our heart. In fact, we may notice how we find them jarring to our sensibilities. We know that, if we were to meet them for the first time right now, we would pass them right by and yet….still…there they are in our close circle of activity so we put up and shut up. This is careless living, at the energetic level; and it can’t help but have an impact on our lives. We even know this, if we are honest with ourselves, and yet we have learned to ignore the signs or feel bullied out of listening to this higher wisdom. Well, anyone who has read my posts for any length of time will know just what I think about bully energy and that it’s one of the themes I am here to help dissolve. Its days are truly numbered in the forthcoming paradigm of humanity and it can be given its marching orders just as soon as we say so…by choosing different, disengaging our energy from it.

In fact the feeling of familiarity that caught our eye in the first place can be the very thing that makes these affiliations so tricky since they allow this entity to get very close to our heart core and our daily routines; their mindsets and words slip under our wire until we almost believe they are are own and so we get drawn in. Even when we start noticing the resistance we have to them, the energy we give to examining and ruminating over this conundrum with ourselves and others (“why don’t I like the feelings around this person any more?”) only gives the misfit attachment even more energy in our life. If we are still giving our time and thoughts to this thing, we might as well give up the keys to the kingdom since they have us either way. Our own spiral of spinning energy can nose dive whenever we see them pop up in our notifications or hear their name; and so we are still being siphoned of our energy, knowingly or otherwise….but only we give them this amount of our energy, through our attachment. Its like the battery drain that occurs when one domineering electrical device is unwittingly placed close to another and suddenly there is no power to switch our gizmo on in the morning; well, people and ideas can be like that to us too, draining us away so subtly we hardly notice it taking place and yet it happens, if we let it.

The key is to notice those pieces of communication that leave us – repeatedly – feeling “off” and to take the necessary action to clear them out of our personal space. That’s not to say we have to clear out people who deliver occasional bad news or have a rant about something, we all have those moments…but when it consistently happens, especially dressed up as spiritual wisdom…it may well be time to move them on. By turning that blind eye rather than dealing with the situation, we passively give the nod to whatever energy this thing is doling out and we send misleading messages to others who may value our example and remain in, say, a community for fear that they are alone in wanting to leave. By passively remaining there, saying or doing nothing, we seem to give encouragement or approval to this entity and this can be so misleading when it comes to the signals we send out to those who value our viewpoint (and this is where we are undeniably connected to others in ways that make a difference). Its true, many people seek a sense of security and validation through the numbers of others with whom they are associated – its why they like to form so many groups – and this inevitably means that whole communities are built upon no one daring to say anything contrary (or leave) in case they are suddenly the odd one out or missing something “important”. Because of our convoluted history, fear of marginalisation runs deep through the cellular memory of humanity and this fear superglues people to whole mindsets they no longer share or feel comfortable with. Our die-hard habit is to attach to something…even if we are really not that sure about it…to safeguard our own survival but those times have now ended and we need to cultivate the nerve to disengage with what no longer feels resonant with who we are at our core and be that leading example of someone who lives their truth through all of their actions, even (perhaps especially) the unspoken ones. There’s no need to engage in conflict or get all judgemental about anything or anyone you don’t agree with; you can vote with your feet – which is really your energy (which is where it is all happening anyway).

Yes, the time has come to be done with that “insurance policy” reason for being attached to anything; its time to take the personal steps that walk us to our own truth and away from what no longer feels resonant…and if we don’t know what that means, our feelings will tell us. When I encounter behaviour that feels “off” to me, I experience a whole body reaction that seems to emanate from my solar plexus like a knot in the stomach followed by a wave of deeply uncomfortable sensations..maybe heat, prickles, shaking, weakness. It doesn’t last long but its strong enough for me to take it seriously so I bless the nature of the extreme alarm-system I have running that, once upon a time, I know I kept suppressed so hard that it had to use other, more pervasive and long-lasting (health affecting!), means of gaining my attention. These days, I give this early warning system my ear and I follow through with my actions whenever the necessity arises, knowing I owe this to myself above all things and that this is how I build the self-trust that allows me to thrive, come what may. You could call it “integrity” and its like a spinal column of strength that sees me through anything, now I allow it to be there. Its amazing how the body calms down AND becomes more responsive, in ways that support you, when you offer it this degree of respect. A woman reaching her middle years will find she has these body-skills waiting for her to hone in order to best support herself through the rest of her life, as her wisdom allows. Many women suppress the first signs of this occurring, reading the “symptoms” as though their health is crashing all around them but really they are stepping into their power-years, if they are prepared to listen to all the abundant clues.

let-goSo, if I need to say “thanks but no thanks” to an entity or person; that’s what I do then I let it go to the four winds with no regrets, nothing left to even have to forgive (which is a Sixth Wave concept that just attaches more energy to the very thing you are letting go of). Ruminating upon what just happened (analysing or discussing it) afterwards is only to continue giving it more energy; so, without judgement, I let it go…I mean COMPLETELY go; even thanking it for being the “dark angel” catalyst that it was in my life (until its expiry date came up). Its a mindset we can spin out into all aspects of our life; areas such as consumer choices, family belief systems, office politics and our very lifestyle….if these no longer fit, let them go, without the post-mortem. For the record, we are so over needing gurus to show us how to find our way; we are our own gurus now and all the guidance we will ever need to help steer our lives is encompassed by the north star shining inside our own heart.

By the way, cutting ties when called for isn’t a case of even more “separation mentality”, as so many people seem to fear (which is one of those examples of a popular, if over-used, spiritual idea turned back in on itself, leading to inertia and disempowerment). Rather, its a case of getting MUCH closer to the truth of who we are as an individual…which has the knock-on effect of cleaning up the intention of the whole of humanity, which can only bring us all closer together as we show our true colours even more brightly than ever. All those most innocuous-seeming tendrils of allegiance fuelled by fear and self-interest, which are really the parasitical blight to our upward growth, can fall away to allow unfettered expansion to occur. When we give our energy to what “isn’t us” we straightjacket and dilute all that we truly are and this stalls or even crashes our progression towards a whole new level of experience.

When we throw ourselves out across such a wide area, energetically, we become like the spider sat at the centre of the most ambitious spiders web; which lacks in practicality what it gains in kudos for being so immense (but since when has the size of its web been more important to the spider than where she wisely chooses to place it; this has been the distortion of the recent paradigm, which is all about “more” and “bigger”). The spider is now registering so many vibrations from so many far corners of her web that she hardly know which signal is the one she wants to be listening to for her sustenance so she ends up bewildered, exhausted from running here and there checking all these calls for her attention and…in the end…utterly depleted. I see this whenever I notice people with hundreds if not thousands of connections on Facebook, like they are in some sort of competition to have the most “friends”; but what is the point of this when you are no longer noticing the conversations that are most important to you and are drowned out by announcements that bring your energy field crashing down? I have a rule of thumb…no more than 70 connections (and that still feels too many…) and, when I havent had a positive interaction with someone for more than 6 months, I reconsider whether to be attached to them at all. Make no mistake….all these things we connect ourselves to (whether “live” with interaction or not) hold  a distinct electrical charge and are an attachment of sorts so we owe it to ourselves to be mindful about whether we actually want them in our field.

Politeness can also keep these attachments going for far longer than they were ever meant to be there…as can business interest (staying connected to lots of people in case they help fuel your income) or sheer complacency. All of these things can be detrimental to keeping your own tone as crystal clear (and truly representative of YOU) as it can be; for yourself and for others to “hear”. The long-running status quo we allow to remain in place can make our energy field stodgy and resistant to wonderful new possibilities coming in…and we barely notice this until, suddenly, something jolts us to our feet and we notice what we have been putting up with for the longest time. These non-matching voltages plugged into our own are often invisible to the eye and yet they can be straining our circuit or even on the verge of blowing our fuseboard. The very fact of being connected can hold us back from achieving our potential trajectory since we all know how an inch or two of distortion at ground level can take us completely off course once we reach for the sky. Its amazing how, once you clear your field of what no longer matches, you can feel your energy flame flicker up inside and, all of a sudden, you are attracting better situations, more resonant connections, good-vibe interactions left and right, without any effort at all. This is because you just made room in your field for fresh new encounters that can now hear your pristine clarion call summoning them into your experience!

I’ve focused a lot on social media but all the same things apply in our daily lives, including our work situations. We sometimes have people in those fields of operation that we “put up with” without really wanting to; and these can either be like the heavy old piece of furniture that we no longer like sat right in the middle of our “room” or like an insidious vapour that gets into all the nooks and crannies of our being, making us feel toxic. Either way, by not dealing with them…or at least setting firm boundaries of what is acceptable (or not) when we are with them…we nail ourselves to their reality and its like unwanted ballast hanging off our balloon when we want to take off. Whether in virtual or “real” life, taking charge of these situations can elicit some remarkable shifts that we register suddenly in our bodies. I’ve heard people describe how physical pains or blockages spontaneously cleared when they took these situations in hand; I have a friend who made such a move and her blocked sinuses disappeared in the very same moment. Whilst this might sound bizarre or too trivial to take seriously, one thing I have come to appreciate is how the body never lies. Dr Christiane Northup often talks about how the painful breast cyst she was about to have removed suddenly healed when she dealt with an emotional blockage around a dysfunctional relationship she had allowed to perpetuate.  One part of the body that can often register blockage or pain when we avoid taking charge of this portion of our life can be the throat chakra since we are, quite literally, failing to speak our truth when we allow other energies attached to our field to speak for us as though by proxy.

Even if these characters or entities in our lives do not seem all that formidable by themselves, when we are attached to many multiples of such people and their viewpoints that are out of alignment with who we truly are, this can have a compounding effect and….like any quantum reality…will start to permeate our physical reality through the consistency of its vibration. In other words, what starts out as complacency around an invisible choicepoint (doing nothing about something that requires our attention) can turn into the hard fabric of our life circumstances. By choosing (and expressing) or OWN unique vibration through all our attachments and interactions, we take back our power and the reins of our life in a way that is so on-key with the current times, which are geared for the kind of super-rapid evolution that occurs on the back of integrity and empowered selfhood, without all the heavy baggage of other people’s belief systems. As ever, I assert that the area of personal evolution (in other words, being the change we want to see in the world) is exactly where “the rubber meets the road” of planetary evolution and by polishing-up our own energy field until it sparkles, giving it the springclean and makeover it deserves, we walk that talk  in the most remarkable and instantly realisable way.

 

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