Energetic time machine

“…every year in early November, Earth passes through a broad stream of debris from Comet Encke. The resulting drizzle of meteors emerging from the horns of Taurus is remarkable, not for its quantity, because Taurid meteor rates tend to be low, but rather for its luminosity. Comet Encke produces fireballs–meteors so bright that they can cast shadows on the ground.” (Spaceweather 2 November 2018.)

The Taurid meteor shower always flags up as a point of interest for me as I seem to feel it as it occurs. No really, every year, I seem to have a heightened pain episode around this time and, because I check the spaceweather reports for GM and other events that affect my health rhythms due to being electro-sensitive, I will often clock that this meteor shower is underway at around this time of year. A small part of me has joked internally, for years, that perhaps I’m being pelted with rocks and fireballs because that’s what it can feel like in this season.

This year I took a closer interest because Spaceweather mentioned that these meteors, which are bigger and come closer than most, often causing bright fireballs in the sky,  are likely the debris of a cataclysm 20 to 30,000 years ago.

“Encke’s debris stream may be unusual because it is actually detritus from the breakup of a much larger comet some 20 to 30 thousand years ago. At least two small asteroids (2015 TX24 and 2005 UR) share the approximate orbits of Taurid gravel swarms, and there may be other small space rocks hiding in the stream as well. It all bespeaks a catastrophic event in the past–and potentially spectacular fireballs in the future. Every night in the next two weeks is a good time to look as Earth crosses the zone of debris.” (A piece of the comet Encke from the Taurid meteor shower burned up over Arizona this week after hitting the atmosphere at 65,000 mph –  read full article on Spaceweather 2 November 2018.)

My regulars know I have a special interest in the possible cataclysms this planet has undergone in the past as I have long played with the theory (set in motion by reading Barbara Hand Clow’s excellent book “Awakening the Planetary Mind: Beyond the Trauma of the Past to a New Era of Creativity”) that a past cataclysm set our planet on “tilt” – literally and metaphorically – by causing a significant change in climate along with the deep emotional-trauma that has become embedded in humanity like a post traumatic ailment affecting our psyche in ways we are still in recovery from. Such a fear~separation~lack~survival mentality, which does indeed seem to be deeply embedded in our collective DNA, would go a long way to explain ways that our history has played out since, taking us on a trajectory that we are only just starting to step back from with any degree of objectivity as we make new conscious choices…doing so as (like any recoveree from trauma) we gain conscious “handle” on what we’ve been through and stop ourselves short from repeating those same fear-based behaviours on endless loop. As we start to gain this new perspective of ourselves, we see how we have been off-centre and all the ways we can redress that. Our chronic patterns come up for review and we notice the opportunity to move on.

So what if these rock visitors to our near environment carry the reminder of something we’ve been through, as a species, in the far distant past…either when predicted in the above article or at some more recent time, as Hand Clow speculates (or both since repeated traumas always embed the deepest). These meteor rocks are, as all things, molecular chunks of energy holding a record of all they have been through,  like a direct remnant of the past, and as big as pebbles in many cases. In my view, we are getting close to a time when it will become more general to take into account our broader environment, to include the higher atmosphere and way beyond, when it comes to assessing the inter-relationship with our human energy field. We are not living in isolation from the universe, or what is commonly refered to as “space”, as most people seem to think (an idea as ridiculous and naive to me as the world being flat or the other planets circling around earth, as was also once commonly believed).

“Sprites are an exotic form of lightning that shoot up from the tops of thunderstorms. Although such sprites have been seen and reported for centuries, many people did not believe they existed until researchers from the University of Minnesota finally captured them on film in 1989. Now we know — sprites are real, and they’re made of electricity.” (Spaceweather 1 November 2018 – sprites are another elusive space phenomenon seen to “rain down” on Earth and their occurrence is often associated with meteor shower events.)

Yes, another space phenomenon observed to be raining down on earth this week are sprites, otherwise known as space lightning. These are, in effect, energy rain known to be full of electricity….as are we. A reminder that energetic particles, of all sizes, enter our atmosphere all the time; all of them holding a particular “charge” and reminding us of our universally shared origins beyond anything we remember with our heads. As I have learned through sheer necessity, when we open up and become responsive to our energy field beyond the five senses, we encounter what are usually unacknowledged energies that are as much a part of our experience as anything we think we know though logical routes and we share a common history with these…in fact, there is no linearity in the sense of “history” since what happened “a very long time ago” is current, relevant and open to transformation. We can write new endings for things that feel ancient, embedded and stuck when we work openly like this….and all the data our sensitivity can throw up for us is relevant which is why it is no bad thing to feel what might otherwise make you uncomfortable (if you were to approach it with the mind).

While these kinds of thought might sound “out there” for now, it’s simply because the extent to which our energy field stores emotion, and is subjected to reminders of “the past” by similar energy-conditions that replicate what we have labelled traumatic, is only just starting to be understood…initially by those of us who are most energetically sensitive. As above, my energy body is sensitive to a fault when it comes to GM storms, solar flares, sunspots and other spaceweather events such as Co-rotating Interaction Regions (transition zones between slow- and fast-moving streams of solar wind which contain density gradients and compressed magnetic fields that often spark auroras) which are what I fondly refer to as “the lemon squeezer”. So perhaps I am energetically sensitive enough to be picking up a reminder of deep trauma once a year as these reminder messages come close as the Taurid shower. After all, energy never goes away, it just shifts around and, if we still hold the matching energy frequency in our cells, which is then able to read what it “says” (a quantum potential, surely, if part of our energetic body experienced the same event that it is the reminder of…) then it can return its energetic message to us in some very timely ways, like a life-review of sorts.

Yes, just like a quantum messenger from “the past” and all we have been through and learned from experience (we’ve come such a long way; its time to reap the benefits of what we’ve been through now). This happens to us all the time; subtle cues in our environment (could be a scent or a song on the radio…so why not a meteor shower) can open up these memory pockets to allow us to reprocess them again and again…hopefully in new and ever more evolved ways each time it “happens”. So, if we are starting to reprocess some of the deepest traumas of all, those which set us off on the planetry trajectory of thousands of years’ worth of fear-based thinking, then we are getting into some seriously transformational potential as a collective right now. Just a bit of a mind-bender and food for thought on this early November morn.

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Crossing over

We seem to have become deeply afraid of crossing over, in any which way that takes form. Could be in our work-leisure balance, our gender, or the ways we mix up our clothes…we’ve even been told its “bad for us” to cross our legs…so we’ve made it edgy and rebellious but, beneath it all, the subliminal message is that it’s “not the right thing to do”.

In my meditation practice, I find often want to cross over my legs, my hands or both yet we’re told, like children, to keep everything uncrossed; “keep your two hemispheres separate”, this seems to say. Yet, as someone who advocates going with what feels right at every choicepoint, I keep coming back to this. Why is it so wrong? When I’m “in there” channelling all aspects of who I am (human me, higher me), I find I often have to cross my left and right sides over, it feels progressive and like where the “conversation” starts. I don’t meditate, any more, just to get off planet and run away…I do it to merge all that I am, as embodied me!

It felt deeply resonant and potent when Donna Eden taught me, though her Energy Medicine modality, how swinging the arms when I walk and doing what she terms the cross crawl and other cross-over techniques, rebalance my energy (see her explanation). I do the latter every day, in the mornings at least, and when my energy feels depleted or “off” and it helps enormously. As Eden demonstrates in the video, these crossing over practices make us demonstrably stronger!

From my own healing journey, I pay attention now to when my body wants to cross over, sometimes one way more so than the other; but I don’t make it wrong, though I’m much more aware of how well it serves me to position myself in a particular way, noticing when I have just got into a bad habit or gone unconscious (like when using a computer for too long…). We’re far more intuitive about what we need than we generally allow!

A phrase always springs to mind when I think into this topic and its “attraversiamo” (“lets cross over” in Italian), as used by Elizabeth Gilbert in her autobiographical novel “Eat, Pray, Love”. In the end, though she had pursued each of these things separately, she found that the ony way forwards was to mix them all up!

Seems to me this paranoia about crossing is something to do with that distorted cross we long worshipped, as I wrote about in A Short Account of the Evolution of Humanity”  . We were made afraid of crossing over through association with sacrifice and sin.  Yet the true cross is about balanced choice, not separation; its where we exercise our conscious awareness to become who we intend to be. Like I said then, we were taken off track by that other cross for just so very long yet that doesn’t make all crosses wrong; we just need to adjust our centre-points, to those areas where we choose to create with our lives, as the experiences we generate. Our crossing over points are where we get to know ourselves better, to express ourselves and manifest what we choose…indeed, where we consciously create ourselves through our very choices to mix a bit of “this” with a little bit of “that”. They’re what make us divinely human via daily exercise of our manifester skills, based on our own personal recipe…of both head and heart. Perhaps at one time we weren’t deemed “safe” to let out with the ability to choose where to cross over in our lives, like children playing with very advanced toys. But now it feels essential for those of us who feel ready to progress to cross over…consciously and with emotional wisdom…wherever it feels right. Instead of remaining wary, if we notice where we feel compelled to cross over and feel into those times, we can become master manifesters on a whole other level.

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When did you last cry?

When did you last cry…seriously, when? If the time is right (…if not today, maybe soon) let it out. Coax it. Do what it takes to breach the dam. For me it was a day of self-compassion, a hot bath and Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2. They did what I needed them to do; I felt it rise up and spill my edges, wept my hot tears, shook from the shoulders, acknowledged the release that came oh-so quickly, like molten lava through my veins. How long had it been building? I can’t even say. It had passed through at last and I felt unspeakably better for it.

So many of us have become accustomed to not crying, for months even years…telling ourselves it’s not our character-type; equating it with weakness or waste of time or back-tracking or failure; fearing it will somehow break or consume us, becoming the relentless gnashing and wailing that will never cease. We like to think we have it all locked-up, contained, out of sight…even from ourselves…but we’re kidding ourselves if we think its gone. Sometimes we just need to shift the immense electrical charge that has built up in us, to release that static, allow the more passive back-and-forth flow to return between our head and our weary heart. Better, more productive, to admit the emotion and allow it to move up and out of us, fully seen in the light of day…then be stronger for it, having heard ourselves out and held that space with such tenderness and humanity. The catharsis so often feels bigger than ourselves. It’s as though a tangle gets untied in the fabric of reality and, like a tornado set in motion by the wings of a butterfly, ripples its release to the whole of creation.

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Getting out of the sacrifice mentality

Not so very low beneath the surface, our modern lives are built on a bedrock of sacrifice.

We expect to give things up, not least our precious time, because we tell ourselves we want other things more.

We teach our children they’ve got to work long and hard (the longer and harder the better) to get to where they want to be “someday”; and we devalue routes that seem easier.

We’re told that blood sweat and tears (and more than a little suffering) is what it takes to be what we want to be, to look how we think we should look or to be considered “deserving”. So we diligently stick to that mantra all our lives, under the gaze of the “no pain, no gain” taskmaster monkey, who drives us on even when we can’t remember why we are doing these things for ourselves anymore.

We sacrifice our values….daily…to do our jobs or “get by”. Or we sacrifice to a cause, taking it way beyond enjoyment or health levels of involvement.

Then we so-carelessly sacrifice our health in so many ways that I daren’t even get started on this vast topic but I watch health being thrown away all the time for such trivial addictions and a moment’s pleasure.

We even sacrifice our dreams, like they were a childhood fiction. Or we compromise them, telling ourselves its “normal” to work ridiculous hours or commute every day to pay for the house of our dreams, where we spend all our weekends recovering.

In fact, everything becomes a barter, a transaction, an acceptable trade-off to get something we don’t currently have and because we tell ourselves we need it to survive or be complete. This suggests a perpetual state of lack and puts us into hock to the concept of an ideal future, which we never seem to get to.

Then we think we have to give things up that we would prefer to be doing in order to be a good spouse, good parents or good children (in ways that our shambolic relationship track-records fail to give good reason for; you would think so much sacrifice would make us into model families). Often, just as we reach a juncture in our life when it might be possible to claim that longed-for freedom of routine, to have those experiences, to travel or move to the country, we trade those aspirations in order to do the right thing for others in our immediate family, again because its expected. Because, of course, our society is structured on separate family units which must fend for themselves in a way that indigenous people…who tend to take care of children and the elderly as an entire community…would think is bananas. Yet, often fueled with resentment and a martyrish amount of disappointment for our own lives, we still do it, expecting our children to do it for us…and repeat.

Of course, this sacrificial mentality pours out of our TV sets. Arch villains (and children mimicking them) declare “You’ll pay for that!” and we may laugh, but our entire corporal system is based on tit-for-tat punishments that deliver very poor results, doing little to rehabilitate people back into society or set a better example. Then, of course, people take the idea of sacrificial pay-off into their own hands….and repeat that too, as we keep seeing in the news…and these ideas are horribly contagious. I was sat with friends outside a vegan restaurant in Italy a couple of weeks ago when a little boy holding his daddy’s hand walked past us and pretend machine-gunned us all with the plastic weapon in his hand. We seem to be in such a bloody mess with it all.

Why is that the case? Flip back to that last post I wrote (A short account of the evolution of humanity…and where we are now) and, about half way down the page, take a look at that distorted intersection we made, a l-o-n-g time ago, between matters of head and heart (we moved our centre right away from the heart…) and there it is – sacrifice mentality. Religion formalised its message (“we have to give something up in order to get into heaven”) and we bought it for a very long time. Many of us say that we’re over that mind trap now, but are we really? Where are the results? Why are so many people still running around on errands of sacrifice?

I know this is becoming a hobby-horse of mine but only for the reason that it feels just too important and relevant not to say. I do wonder if we are encoding the concept of sacrifice so deeply and unshiftably into our mindset because of the diet we eat, taking it so deep into our cells with our food that we just can’t seem to break free from its shackles, even when we see it and want to be rid of it in our ideals. Its like there is a fundamental miss-match of intentional frequencies going on within ourselves, and it has to come from somewhere.

If you doubt this is possible them bear with me as I was just reading about the gut-brain connection and (yet again, as I wrote about the other week in my post The vagus nerve: leading us back to our health) the amazing vagus nerve. I learned that the gut and brain are just so closely connected that they grow out of the very same clump of cells as the foetus takes shape in the womb; and that connection continues in ways we are only just starting to fathom but I suspect its at the root of why so many people are developing severe reactions to certain foods. I learned, 95 per cent of the vagus nerve’s fibres run upwards towards the brain, suggesting the gut is telling the brain how to behave more so than the other way around…in fact, many people now consider the gut to be a kind of second brain in its own right. What we eat determines our moods and our mindsets in some very intricate ways. It contains its own self-contained nervous system known as the enteric nervous system which acts independently of the brain or spinal cord and this thing is huge – containing far more nerve cells than the spine. Its language is the language of neurotransmitters and these communicate with the brain fluently and constantly in an arrangement now refered to as the brain-gut axis, facilitated by the vagus nerve. (Paraphrased from The Spiritual Anatomy of Emotion: How Feelings Link the Brain, The Body, and the Sixth Sense, Michael a Jawer & Larry Dossey).

From personal experience, with several years of intense neurological challenges behind me, those neurotransmitters disseminate messages from molecules in the food we eat to the cells of the body in virtually no time at all; it’s like a digital radio signal, heard “live” and clear as the broadcaster says the very words, as though he is in the room with you. When I accidentally eat something that doesn’t agree with me, my head and the rest of my nervous system knows about it pretty instantaneously; and one of the effects is that my mood suddenly drops significantly. I can be perfectly fine one minute, then suddenly its like rewinding the clock five or ten years…I feel hopeless and, somehow, small and limited in my options, I get snappy with other people, my high-vibe is gone out the window. It doesn’t happen very often these days; I’m too much on the ball with what I consume!

Now I may be the extreme but its fair to say I demonstrate what everyone else’s gut is also doing, whether they notice or not. In other word, the gut unpacks the food, reads the messages held in those nutrient molecules and distributes them liberally and instantaneously to the body, as frequency. It’s why we are finding that the source of our food, how it was grown, whether it was factory processed or modified by chemicals, whether given pesticides or organic, and so on is just so important. So what if that food came from living flesh, a sentient being with an instinct, like you or I, to be natural and alive…and that that this creature was held captive, mistreated, tortured and sent to a terrifying and traumatic death? While it was going through all this, the animal’s own neurotransmitters were in full-throttle, disseminating messages of trauma to every cell in its body…and then we eat it. What I’m proposing here isn’t rocket science, nor is it woo-woo…in fact it seems very logical indeed. When we eat meat, we read all those messages of trauma via our gut; we hear all about the animal’s sacrifice, even if we choose (as  most people do) to shut it out from our conscious mind or rationalise it away with excuses as to why we continue to do this. The gut bypasses that completely…it is its own mind…and it tells the story of that sacrifice to each and every one of our cells. Cells which become us.

I believe that the meat and fish that people choose to eat is heavily encoded with such messages, all of them holding the frequency of sacrifice (which incorporates ideas such as unkindness, fear, loss, bloodshed, murder, loss of freedom, torture, slavery, domination…etc). If you eat meat then your gut fluently interprets those messages and distributes them to become YOU. In an instance, your body knows exactly what those meat cells experienced and that part of you that already knows we are one with every other living being  in creation takes that as though we have experienced the sacrifice ourselves. Gradually, wearily, over years and years of hearing this same message drummed out by our food, we become this message and we think it is our own lot in life, sacrificing ourselves to its mindset of inevitable bloodshed and trauma. And like all sacrifice, there’s no need for it; we can call a ceasefire. We no longer believe we have to sacrifice other people’s lives to the gods to get what we want (that’s where the whole meat industry started, encouraged by dire lack of food in times other than the ones we currently live in). There’s simply no justification for meat as food any more, either nutritionally or in terms of food lack, though the territory is riddled with myths. It is broadly demonstrated now, across the world, that

“it takes more land to grow plants that we feed to animals we eat than it would take if we consumed plants directly. And the production of meat has the largest impact on the destruction of the world’s biodiversity due to its pollution, deforestation, soil erosion, land degredation, greenhouse gas emissions and so on”. (Eat Like You Care: An Examination of the Morality of Eating Animlas – Gary L Francione, Anna Charlton).

Yet where one falsehood is maintained as a prop to all our behaviours around it, we can be sure there are many other falsehoods lurking in the shadows. Equally, when we expose that flaw in our thinking, those old limiting mindsets come tumbling down, which is why choosing not to eat meat is so much bigger than it looks, evolutionarily speaking. It can be like removing a lynchpin that was holding together a soaring tower of false mindsets about who we are and what we are really capable of. The irony is that tower of falsehoods, to which we seem to so willingly sacrifice ourselves, is something that those eating meat are complicit in maintaining, even though it goes against their core values. To quote Melanie Joy, author of “Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows”:

“The way that is maintained is by continuing a wider narrative that validates it. These oppressive and dominant belief systems condition people to act against their core values of compassion and justice and to disconnect from their natural empathy. Carnism depends on maintaining a mythology about veganism and vegans and the central myth is that veganism is abnormal, unnatural and unnecessary. But vegan values are all of our values, and most people don’t want animals to suffer so intensively and unnecessarily. Most people would be deeply offended if they were aware of animal agriculture and how carnism has shaped how we act against what we would normally be opposed to.”  (Melanie Joy, Author of Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows – in an  interview with The Independent)

Yet as I’ve said, eating meat is more than just a mindset or something that (mis)represents our values, though it is that; because it quite literally takes our whole body over with a frequency of “the necessity to sacrifice life”. You could say, it lowers our own vibration from one where we feel empowered to one where we (ironically, for all the meat industry’s claims), feel subliminally weak and helpless. Once you are out of it looking back in, it feels like an intrinsic part of a sinister machine designed to keep us small and quaking in our boots. So when we eat meat, we encode that message of sacrifice into our own cells…and then we subliminally expect the same degree of sacrificial trauma to happen to us as a sort of inevitability that we surrender to…and repeat. Its almost like we are sacrificing ourselves to the pain of going against our very natures, as some sort of punishment or payment…but for what? Its a whole other level of self-harm.

In fact, we can’t seem to get out of it, until, for some of us, it just happens and thank goodness. For me, it was an instant decision…I just stopped consuming meat one night, though I loved its taste, with no forewarning, not a single clue I was about to do it (it was ten days before Christmas and I had all my butcher’s food on non-cancellable order; a still-living turkey on that farm had my name on its neck). Something just shifted like a rock rolled away from the door and I saw a different quality of light coming in. I simply knew, very suddenly, that eating flesh was out of sync with where I had got to and, more importantly, where I was headed, though I had no idea where that was. Something just told me that I wouldn’t be going there if I continued to do it so I had a split second choice to make, with no guarantees, and I just stopped there and then.

And yes, its been a real eye-opening few years (six now); quite the different trajectory to what I imagine would have predictably happened if I had continued down the old path. Things that have unfolded for me simply wouldn’t have along that other path since there are direct links to other circumstances that have monumentally altered my experiences for the better. Yes, I feel so much lighter, more capable of joy and far less prone to sudden dives in my vibration. Most of all, my mindset around sacrifice has never felt more blown wide-open. Even where it persists, I see it there and I look it straight in the eyes, which keeps me on my evolutionary toes.  Where I still find it, I stop and take the cue to examine what my real motives are, including any that are fear driven, and to notice where there is a better feeling option, which often takes me towards a higher outcome. Let’s just say I feel generally more aligned with my heart these days because it feels more straightforward to attune to it and then use it to navigate, which is such a powerful place to be. Though I notice how sacrifice mindsets are still prevalent all around me, I don’t feel succumbed to them or like there is literally no way around their obstacle except to give in.

You could say that, like meat, I just don’t buy it anymore!

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A short account of the evolution of humanity…and where we are now

Cross usWhen we “arrived” here in our most primitive physical version, humans were like this figure (you could take the circle to be their Whole World); in other words, we were an aspect of wholeness and knew nothing except this seamless experience of unity conciousness. Us, other creatures, our environment, the weather…all these things were the same and “of” the same source, with no stark division lines so what we experienced was interpreted fluidly, without segregation into logic or labels.

Then, as the first stirrings of evolution occurred, we became Us True crossfragmented…at first into two portions (“me” and “other”) and then into four (shades of preference within those segments = “good/preferable” or “bad/not-so-preferable” versions of “me” and “other”). So now we were like a cross (some people call it the True Cross), equally divided into four aspects yet there was balance, or sorts, since we operated from our heart-core…and we lived like this for A Very Long Time.

Then, at some point, massive collective trauma happened to us, perhaps a cataclysm, and fear drove us away from the heart as the Need to Survive in the face of unprecedented hardship presented itself. So it was decided for the majority, by a minority who saw the self-advantage in this, that we needed Cross person 1our brains far more than our hearts, thus our centre point was moved from heart to the head, resulting in a very different paradigm of existence to what had been there before. This, diagramatically speaking, looks like a very different cross to the True Cross in the way our priorities were weighted off-centre, in favour of the head (both within the individual and in society at large). This distorted cross came to represent bloodshed and sacrifice, separation, fear, blame, lack…not to mention the need to appease, to negotiate or to Pay A Price for everything that was once freely available to all. Mixed in with all that were some new concepts on the block; materialism, competition, ownership, poverty, dominion, discrimination, abuse and slavery. We have lived like this for at least 6000 years now and our heads have been deemed to be central to absolutely everything we think we know during that off-centred time.

Underlying all of this, there is another segmented circle that runs core to everything in creation and it is shown to us constantly by the moon. The phases of the moon demonstrate the Cross 3same four-segmented circle made up of waxing and waning, further divided by dark (hidden) and light (in full view) portions, that we used to operate to when we were still in our centre (and when the moon reminds of us of those times, we can really feel its pull). The dark side represents the feminine aspect and the light the masculine; their balanced partnership being intrinsic to everything in creation.

When how we operate as humans was apportioned by the true heart-centred cross, our feminine aspect remained deep below the surface as the most mysterious aspects of our awareness and as our inherent earth-connection whilst our masculine revealed itself in full view as the manifest world we engaged with day-to-day. While there was heart-centred balance, these two aspects worked in easy partnership and were both valued and incorporated.

Cross us 2After our collective trauma and the relocation of our centre to the head, this was no longer tenable since the feminine aspect could not be without a heart centre and the masculine aspect, whilst believing it had claimed the best power-seat in the house, is also naturally competitive (and this arrangement left the feminine aspect with the larger territory, as shown to the left). So the masculine aspect began to delve into matters that were often best left to the feminine “below the line” and closer to the earth, as it were (seeking to formularise and control such information in the name of “science”), even plunging and plundering that territory in ways that are now manifest as a long human history of sexual abuses and our ecologically challenged planet that has been near drained of resources. It did this in a way that almost always, by the way, made the body and the earth second-class domains thus subservient to the will and dictatorship of the head. Meanwhile, the feminine gradually made her way towards the head, seeking first to keep communication channels open in order to negotiate a say in things (hence the long history of the feminine aspect voicing concerns, which has not always ended well for her…). In more recent times, she has had to play the masculine at his own game by making headway into the realm of academic pursuit and the material world. On the back of this crossing over of interests, the split between masculine and feminine rotated to become primarily a vertical “line”, rather than a horizontal split between head and heart…made manfest as a peculiarly distinct separation of left and right hemispheres of the brain (and thus the entire nervous system).

Cross us chakrasNot content with such a carving-up of her domain into hard left and right hemispherical segments, the feminine aspect then worked to evolve a series of energy centres like a ladder of communication points along the dividing line between “sides” and so the chakras came into their rainbow-coloured existence, which lead to leaps in evolution for those who were able to attune to them. This upward momentum served us well as it formalised our connection to the universe (which had always been there…if somewhat woolly since the days of our trauma, after which the right to connect with the spiritual domain was claimed as yet another dominion by the masculine in the name of “church”). Now, there was a distinct energy flow made possible between “it” and all the physical centres of the body and so kundalini was able to flow with increasing velocity; an intrinsic part of our evolutionary process…

Bringing us to where we are right now; in full flow yet still significantly divided.

Evolutionarily speaking, all this fragmentation has served a purpose; the challenges it has presented growing us for a time when we would be ready to come back together as whole once again. Only, this time, we would come back into wholeness knowing ourselves whereas, at the start of this evolutionary process, we knew only that wholeness, to such a high degree that we had no concept of the self that was aware of it. This time we would bring self-awareness into that unity consciousness, which would make divinity manifest in physical form; you could say, the name of the game.

In moon phase terms, the still-popular idea governing our world today is that the more fully masculine or brain-oriented you are, in the way of a full moon, the more manifest (you could say, “successful”) you are in human terms. The feminine aspect knows that we need equal portions of both dark and light and that, like the cycles of the moon, we do better when we dip in and out of both sides of that circle, experiencing all those perspectives without making them wrong. While the dark aspect of who we are continues to be denied, it will continue to assert in all the distorted ways that we hear about in the news since we innately crave its presence (not as these modern-day distortions but as the more mysterious qualities that represent the feminine aspect of who we are and how we connect to source).

Once we own this feminine brand of “darkness” as an intrinsic part of ourselves, it can easily be reincorporated into who we are at every level, from micro to macro, and will bring healing swiftly, on a grand scale. At this point, all the hard-won communication channels that we have had to formulate over eons of evolution will dissolve into free-flowing highways of awareness. The two hemispheres of the brain will collaborate freely to reach all-new heights of understanding whilst the head and heart will collaborate in easy partnership to realise a world in which sense of “other” is no longer cause for conflict. Division lines will soften and blur to allow us to radiate in a whole new way; which will have to be seen to be believed.

Us fully whole and embodiedYou could say, all division points will be healed, from within our own energy field, our cells, our neurology and our physiology to “out there” in the social and environmental planes of existence, to where we seamlessly hook-up once more with all the off-planet energies from which we came. Because while we remain so desperately fragmented and out of balance, those openings of communication remain off-bounds or distorted to us; so we have only the faintest guess available to us , so far, as to how this could evolve.

Now, at last, as we go into this next stage of our evolution, we manifest a new kind of wholeness…you could say the (w)holiest of whole…since we are now AWARE of that wholeness, having been fragmented into a magnificent kaleidoscope and then come fully back together again, in heart-centred human form.

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Lead from joy

Try doing what you want to do in the world from a place of affirmative, not what you don’t want. What fills you with joy and enthusiasm? Go there.

Stride forwards into new rather than turning back to take on what you don’t like.

Share truth but don’t waste time on the point score.

Check in with what you’re sharing; how can you flip the message to be “yes” instead of a “no”.

Model the change. Be the example. Choose from love. Be prepared to let others see how you are being strong in that love.

This is where we are more powerful than we have yet realised. When we do these simple things, our energy is mighty instead of wounded; we are a tour de force. All our projects light up within and we have the wind behind our sails.

And this is how, together, we start to make massive collective headway as so many projects that are already running turn on their boost-button of contagious joy.

Like a string of lights, they were just waiting for someone to flip on their power switch.

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We are all absolute at the core of our cells; in that void of pure potential that has yet to take shape as the matter we more familiarly know as the substance of life. So, the more we wake up and become conscious of this absolute core that is just as much “us” as anything we can touch, the more it spills out…as the deep understanding that we are not separate from anything in this world.

This is why becoming conscious beings alters everything for us, although (in truth) nothing ever needed to change. That momentum of change comes from us and our innate desire to return to what we already know; which is the very rocket-fuel of evolution. In other words, in order to live in truth with what we now remember about ourselves, we start to iron out all those practices that assert we are separate and this is what manifests our divine blueprint in human form.

At some stage, this inevitably comes up against the vast territory of all the ways that we play out an idea of separation through mindsets related to the body. There is, after all, no avoiding the human body that we “live in”, however abstract we may prefer to remain. When we perpetuate separation in this way, we inevitably perpetuate it through the matter of each and every cell in our body, these being relatively long-lasting markers of what we believe in and, thus, do including what we consume. When we manifest a separation idea as our body, through our choices including our thoughts, this becomes a deeply uncomfortable state of being to a consciousness that is now aware of its absolute nature, since it creates obvious dissonance. This can manifest as pain, health crisis or even a back-flip into even more unconsciousness to make that pain go away (facing up to it is not for the faint hearted) and, yes, this dissonance can prove to be an evolution point since its friction serves as a catalyst to personal growth. Sometimes, a person will put themselves through one dissonance rubbing-point after another before they start to get anywhere but it can be a powerful way to work on areas where we have wandered very far from out absolute selves; often choosing separation though we claim we no longer believe in it.

These seperation behaviours relating to the body can be as subtle as what we think about ourselves in the absence of self love but it is easier to describe how it works by focusing on what we choose to put into the body and what this says about what we claim to believe (which may no longer be consistent with what we now remember about ourselves at the absolute level). And, of course, it spirals out to how we live our life in the “outside world”, including where we live, who we spend time with, how and why we work, what we use to motivate ourselves. Under-running all of this, we are designed to constantly gravitate towards creating a state of homeostasis; you could say, where inside matches outside. Which is why people start to notice that they can no longer perpetuate behaviours that were normal to them before their consciousness began to stir; which can feel like it unleashes a whole set of new challenges for them to now wade through, just as they expected things to get easier because they feel more enlightened!

Say, for instance, a practice such as drinking alcohol or taking drugs (including many that are prescribed); these practices exacerbate a state of separation from ourselves, in the way of taking a holiday from who we experience ourselves to be, which is why they are so popular as a habit or recreation of sorts. Sometimes we can get away with these practices since we only feel separation for as long as the hangover or for a day or two of remorse over what we did or said when we were outside of our consciousness. At other times or as we get closer to our absolute state, these “harmless” recreations become longer lasting zones of dissonance and pain because of how agonising separation feels when we are so consciously aware of its opposite state. Paradoxically, this can result in chronic addiction to use of substances that perpetuate seperation in order to run away from ourselves more consistently, to avoid this pain (assuming ourselves to be the source of it…). In other cases, we come to realise the joy of non-separation to such a high degree that we start to put aside the need for recreations that take us back into the experience of a fragmented self “for harmless fun”, no longer seeing the point in it, even when it harms no one but the person indulging in it. There is no judgement of it or those that still choose it; simply, in our case, no need for it.

Take, then, the habit of consuming other living creatures as food under the mistaken belief that this is necessary or healthy (it is neither, as science is now amply demonstrating, but there is a very determined backlash insisting that this is the case). You could say that, at the absolute level, there is no right or wrong and so this practice is perfectly fine. However, what we eat comes into the realm of the manifest and, in that zone, we have only one dilemma; either to become in form as we are at the absolute or to perpetuate a belief in separation. If we take it as read that we are all one, as is absolutely the case, then it is also a given that we would never do to another what we would not want to experience, or agree to, for ourselves. In fact we would only ever want to express love and respect for other living beings and so there is no question of being prepared to claim dominion over other creatures or causing them any harm, entirely for our own pleasure.

So, once we become conscious, we are well and truly confronted with this dilemma and it simply won’t go away until we face up to it; because to perpetuate the meat-eating habit we have to deny we are all one…which is to perpetuate a separation belief. We perpetuate it not only for as long as it takes to consume the “food” but for a much longer hang-over period as that “food” takes shape as the very cells of our body; the stuff out of which our skin and organs, blood and bone are made. In other words, our belief in separation becomes who we are as a manifest being for days, weeks and even months until the body renews again, which it does in overlapping phases. Thus we are forced to live in a state of dissonance day-in-day-out until we cease this practice for as long as it takes to, quite literally, recreate ourselves from a completely different belief mindset and its associated lifestyle habits. This is one of the reasons so many people who cease eating meat report no changes and, perhaps, even a state of feeling the worse for it; since there is an adjustment period that requires a full cleanse-out and, in the interim, their cells (used to the familiar and not yet tuned-in to the new) can feel all at-sea and really quite unsettled.

So, to recap, our choice is to do something about this dissonance and change, or to live with it… perhaps, even, send ourselves back to sleep via a denial that eating flesh is out of sync with who we remember that we are at the absolute level. Because to have one foot in and one foot out of that knowing is to feel very divided indeed, in ways that can be quite unpleasant and physically challenging  and our body will often tells us…and keep telling us…when we are so out of sync with ourselves by producing health crisis after health crisis, until we start to listen.

If we take that easy route of falling back into forgetfulness about our absolute self, we can at least take comfort from the normalcy, the tradition, the massive cultural advocacy of the habit of meat-eating and this can feel like slipping back into a cosy bed or a favourite pair of old slippers. We self-congratulate for avoiding a near-miss with social ostracism and continue on as we were before, gripping onto the comforting habits of old, while feeling, at some level, stuck or slowed-down in our self-realisation process yet unable to quite put a finger on why.

However, should we turn around to face new territory and dare to stop these separation practices…and once we get past the oh-so precarious cooling-off period, when we are liable to change our minds back again…we find ourselves in a whole other territory that is like realising another dimension in apparently the same (through really quite different) body. Once we get safely past that initial trial by many temptations, with our mind jumping around like a monkey on the furniture, trying to tell us that we made the wrong decision, that we don’t feel any better and perhaps even worse for the changes we have made; and when that monkey-mind fills us with scare-mongering such as how we are now marginalised or considered weird, at risk of losing all our family and friends, socially displaced, untenably inconvenienced, spiritually mistaken and even nostalgic for those good old days…oh yes, then great things start to happen.

It’s as though a new quota of light starts to flood our body cells as the message of non-separation filters through the processes of renewal. And as though a heavy burden of disharmony has been laid down by the side of the road to be left behind forever. Its like having the scales drop from our eyes so we can see, at last, so clearly what was once a longed-for concept, almost a legend, about how this world used to be before separation took such a grip. Like filling up to the brim with the joy of knowing (not just hoping) that we are, after all, literally “all one”, unified by our sentience plus the added joy of bumping in to others, who start magically appearing, who also know and live by this. We start to dare to look other sentient beings, animals that we once averted our gaze from, squarely in the eyes and see their souls shining right back at us; no longer denying our shared qualities. We even notice how they seem to appear more often, step much closer, stay for longer, speaking volumes to us without words and no need of translation. We start to meet what feels like family literally everywhere we go and find that same somewhat bizarre, at first, feeling of familiarity reciprocated (without guardedness or agenda) by those others whose paths now synchronistically cross ours to the point our numbers seem to swell so we no longer feel so isolated. People met only briefly, who we can sense have been through this same transformation process, feel like souls we have shared whole lifetimes with and can pick up with exactly like we were never for a moment separated (because, of course, we weren’t). Our step feels lighter on the earth; we walk taller, more confidently, less apologetically and significantly less burdened. There’s a different quality about our cells, as though they are freed from long incarceration to become resonant with other molecules that, say, make up the leaves of the trees or the patterns of snowflakes; which we now feel in a whole other way to how we used to experience the so-called “external” physical world before. In fact, we become tuned-in to Nature at a whole other level, as though let back into a secret world that was never meant to be exclusive; only, we were the ones to slam the door in its face when we decided to leave and become separate, in our own mind’s eye, and now (at last) we have returned.

And if you are already experiencing aspects of all this and feel you are doing just fine slipping some separation mindsets into a no-go area, hoping to preserve and step around them, believe me it gets so much better when we work through them instead. Especially if they are ones which contradict a perspective of love, for self and for other; this, in my experience, is the trickiest territory to deny when personal evolution is your aim. You can postpone it but it will keep on coming back into view.

The other thing is, it can feel (as you embark on this journey back to who you absolutely are) like you are in danger of making yourself even more seperate….initially….as you break free from mass behaviours that no longer feel resonant. When you lifestyle habits make you the oddity, when you can’t travel so easily without planning how you will get your next meal or just say yes to hospitality and do as others do, you might feel like you have never been more separate in your life and yet here’s the beautiful paradox. You are more connected in love now than you ever were in a paradigm that gathered together over shared separation behaviours; and, in no time, you will find your own tribe and that tribe is growing, fast. But it takes courage to believe in this and to be one of the ones that is prepared to go there on trust. Of course we are in a minority, for the moment; that’s why the world has been in such a fragmented state for so long.

As separation breaks down in us, we are able to discern other, deeper, separation mentalities that are only keeping us from ourselves and our best manifestation practices, including our health. In short, we are well on the way to re-gathering ourselves from places where we had become the fragmented and dispersed idea of who we are over many eons. As we hug ourselves back together, cell by cell, being by being, we can’t help but notice how that which is (and only ever was…) absolute at our core, which was never fragmented or separate to start with, becomes more and more manifest in the world, as us and around us in an ever-widening circle of realisation. This is the true process of absolution; no need of forgiveness…much more of a blessing that we bestow upon ourselves as we come back together again with all that we already are.

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The joy of finding tribe

I really don’t spend very much time amongst people; honestly, you would be amazed at how little contact I’ve had in 12 years since I gave up work to regroup my health. Outside of immediate family, I meet up with my much-dispersed friends “of old” once every few months and, though I often strike up conversations with strangers in shops and when out walking (I can’t help myself because it’s not that I’m shy), I seldom ever see those people ever again. These days, my most like-minded friends are met across the Internet and, though these can become incredibly intimate, I have become so aware of feeling almost depleted lately for lack of that magical ingredient; the physical presence of other people and the knowing of them beyond just their mental processing, their words and their FB feed. Of course, its something I’ve got used to and have learned to “live with” and yet I know it’s not ideal or healthy, especially as its part of my personality type to need that feeling of being part of a tribe, as I used to be earlier in my adulthood, for my utmost wellbeing.

When I went back amongst people at a vegan hotel called I Pini in Tuscany last week, I admit, I secretly hoped to find “tribe”; after all, we would have that first premise in common – a love of food, without causing harm to other beings. Yet I still hardly dared to expect what came to pass, which was remarkable. In the space of seven days, I connected with what felt like a small family of like-hearted souls, two couples in particular, who not only felt like the tribe I was seeking but like old friends from the moment we met. In fact, from the second we first sat down to dinner, we seemed to pick up from where we had left off in some other incarnation, with hardly a beat skipped in the familiarity of our conversation. Both couples had already been to La Vimea, the “big sister” vegan hotel of I Pini. Some of the other synchronicities we shared, always a favourite clue of mine, were quite incredible or even bordering on almost impossible to believe!

I Pini 2Perhaps as well as the vegan-thing there was something in the air or the water, or perhaps it is because this glorious rural retreat, with its self-grown ingredients, is situated on the 12th degree longitude; an auspicious place to be according to Prof. Carl Calleman, author of The Nine Waves of Creation, who considers this to be the joining place between global east and west or (like the human brain) hemispherical left and right – so, a sort of quantum-hollographic lynchpin and a very dynamic place to situate yourself – and yes I have had many interesting experiences along its length over the past 30 years. Whatever the reason, such as there needs to be one, something magical happened there and I seemed to make up for my 12 years of retreat with 7 days non-stop conversation. In fact, we were frequently the last to leave the dinner table, shooed away by staff wanting to get to bed, and managed to extend at least one breakfast to nearly four hours duration, not to mention all the other impromptu chats and trips out. All of this was an utterly delicious state of affairs to that part of me that craved communion with other wide-awake souls and which had almost given up on it being possible.

In this space, there was no holding back, no dumbing-down…we just said it like it was and covered huge amounts of ground. We took to bringing pen and paper to meals and each took away notes of interesting resources we had pooled. I was astonished, in fact, by how much of usefulness I had to share; information and thoughts that I seldom sense are considered of relevance, value or comprehension to others and yet here we were, the avid audience to each other, gobbling it all up. We also read thought-provoking books that we picked up there and these ignited conversations that were no longer compromised or politely restrained by the need not to offend vastly contrary values in earshot. In short, we got straight down to the business of extending and igniting ourselves to new levels of enthusiasm and intention; fired up and ready to take all that we were sparking in each other back home with us and put it to action.

It made me realise that I had been kidding myself that I could do all this equally well exclusively via internet friendships and virtual discussions. Those can be life-altering and have had such a potent impact on my life in too many ways to list. Yet there was something just so potent about being in each other’s presence, locking eyes over the table, feeling that electric frisson of excitement when the conversation was resumed and never knowing quite where it was going to lead since no one was being guarded or carefully tweaking their words to keep a persona intact. And we laughed such a lot…which was the glue of the whole piece. In fact, there was so much hilarity and enthusiasm and down-right positivity and cheeriness, it was like oil to our wheels. Having worked to keep those same conversations going since returning home I can report “it doesn’t feel the same” at all as just sitting down in the same space together. There was pure magic in the physical meeting of tribe that I no longer feel contented to live without now; I miss it like a deep yearning in my heart and this is only propelling me to seek out other places where I can find my tribe lurking with intent to mingle.

There was one day when we gave two of our friends a lift to the town of Volterra, forty minutes drive away, as referred to in my last post. We were already in the full throttle of a good time when we made our way to the vegan restaurant that we had earmarked for lunch (such a rarity in Italy that I had been taking packed-lunches from the hotel with me wherever else I went) and so we had to laugh when we walked straight into two more of our tribal friends from the hotel. So we made a big table together and, along with Enrico, the owner of the restaurant and a vegan-enthusiast extraordinaire, our conversation ignited into a long conversation that had us laughing and waxing lyrical  with anecdotes like some sort of family reunion…which is what it felt like, truly, since we were family in another sense. Enrico has so much energy, passion and vision, and so many eco-projects up his sleeve, that you can’t help feeling like you want to transform the world alongside him, not to mention longing to stay in one of his “smart” apartments nearby so that you can diet on his particular recipe of enthusiasm, innovation and sheer determination several times a day with your breakfast, lunch and dinner. Being stood there in this impromptu gathering in an ancient Etruscan street felt like standing at the centre of a tribal vortex towards which countless more of our vegan, eco tribe would no-doubt continue to find their way in order to be enthused. You got the  distinct feeling that Volterra was about to be come a “hub” of such activity, launched by Enrico’s passion.

It was a contagion that infected everyone in the vicinity; and people walking by stopped to do double-takes at our obvious high-vibe (no alcohol involved). There was a family of Americans – not even sure they were vegan – sat inside the restaurant (we were outside so we had every excuse not to mingle) who, by the time they left, was waving and calling out farewells to us, having told us all about the purpose of their trip and where they were headed next.  The night after we returned home, Enrico brought his family to dine at I Pini on our collective recommendation and so the enthusiasm party became a cross-pollination between two vegan hot-spots, we are so glad to hear.

I Pini 1That’s a feeling I never got from being one of the mass consensus that munch their way through vast menus full of meaty dishes in one of the endless array of other restaurants on offer in these tourist spots. We could be elbow to elbow with people at every meal for a week, back in those days, and never say a word to each other. Something about being part of this niche plant-based commonality made us eager, bright-eyed, open, enthusiastic and more likely to smile warmly at strangers, then again wryly at the irony of finding ourselves in a place famed for spit-roast wild boar yet never more determined to be how we are against the flow. We were invigorated somehow by knowing we are “the difference” or “the conscious choice point” (even when it presents hardships…such as struggling to find many places you can eat!), in a world that seldom notices what goes on beneath its very nose. It’s as though we were instant family as soon as we walked through the hotel or restaurant door together and the rest of the positive vibe was easy to generate; so just imagine that posibility rolled out to the rest of the world. When the premise of all your most basic human decisions is “do no harm”, you arrive in communal spaces where this is already accepted with all of your boundaries set pretty low and so you allow the free-flow to happen. Yes, we really let it happen at I Pini and the effect was remarkable.

One thing I really noticed about all this, from a personal viewpoint, was how much energy it seemed to give me to live like this for just a handful of days. Normally (and this is one of the reasons I have cut-back so hard on socialising or mingling) just half an hour’s vigorous conversation would leave me feeling floored. Typically, I would go into deep fatigue or even pain and need to stop or even lie down after a relatively short social gathering. Yet while I stayed at I Pini, I was talking endlessly (we all were) for many non-stop hours and I only ever seemed to feel more energised, often going to bed wishing we could have stayed up longer. One day, I laughed to count-up that we had talked to our new friends for pushing 10 hours that day, on and off, and still couldn’t wait to get down to breakfast for more the next morning. It was like we were all catching up on a whole lifetime’s lack of it. To start with, I assumed I was the minority for not having close friends with whom I can so freely be myself and have open conversation in my “normal life” but no, the others we met described the same. Just because you work in an office doesn’t mean you have things in common with all those people; not even regarding the most basic attitudes to life, I was reminded (and I do remember that from being there) so we were all seekers of tribe, and open to that eventuality flowering out of this unique place. The shared premise of our vegan-ness simply acted as a sort of passport to get us into the territory quicker, allowing us to make massive headway on topics as far-reaching as you could possibly imagine. It brought home for me that finding ourselves in like-minded community makes us stronger in every respect and is so life-affirming; and how I had almost allowed myself to forget how much this is true. What had started as a pin-prick of recognition was ablaze at the end of a few short days and it literally felt as though our hearts were expanding and glowing.

Perhaps that’s one of the main reasons we were all there; and why this exceptional place with its relaxed vibe and elbow-close dinner arrangements was created; the vision of its owners whose alpine hotel we had a remarkable time in last year. Love and positivity seem to seep out of the very walls and up through the ground from the moment you arrive there, to be met from above by the golden Tuscan sunshine. It bathes you in a hard to pinpoint yet powerfully familiar frequency that is often hard to find “out there” in the modern world at large and so you gratefully immerse in it. Of course, we didn’t want to leave…but all of us have carried a portion of the feeling back home with us; not to mention that all-important taster of “tribe” that will, hopefully, eject us from our complacent tendency to assume we are all alone in this world and somehow better for it; I’m so done with that self-defeating belief system!

Vegan places –

I Pini Agrivilla – small yet perfectly formed biotique vegan hotel in Tuscany

La Vimea – biotique hotel in the Italian Alps (the “big sister” hotel to I Pini)

Life Bistro, Volterra – plant-based restraurant and retreats in the heart of Tuscany


Books referred to –

The Nine Waves of Creation:: Quantum Physics, Holographic Evolution, and the Destiny of Humanity – Prof. Carl Johan Calleman

Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows: An Introduction to Carnism – Meanie Joy

How to Create a Vegan World: A Pragmatic Approach – Tobias Leeneart

Posted in Consciousness & evolution, Environment, Health & wellbeing, Holiday destinations, Life choices, Life journey, Menu, Personal Development, Spirituality, Symbolic journeys, Travel, Vegetarianism | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Memories from the stones

‘To the Etruscan, all was alive: the whole universe lived: and the business of man was himself to live amid it all. He had to draw life into himself, out of the wandering huge vitalities of the world.’ (D H Lawrence – Etruscan Places.)

I was recently drawn back into D H Lawrence’s most-particular perspective of the world, revisiting a couple of favourite novels and starting to read one I had never picked up before…but, just as quickly, felt the moment drift away as I found other things to read that felt more present-day relevant. Yet Lawrence and I have done a very long dance together, spanning many decades, since I grew up just a handful of miles from where he also did, a century earlier. He took me to deep places in my teenage years, when his raw and painterly language spoke warmly to my soul in a way that other writers left me, at most, simmering-to-cold. Since then, he has been like a wildly-plumed bird that lands on my shoulder just before I spot something interesting; like a talisman or guide into the underbelly of things that might otherwise press their surface layer upon me…until my attention is taken far deeper by the mere fact of his sudden arrival.


That view!

That happened once again, today, when I discovered some of his writing on the subject of the Etruscans, as quoted above. Newly returned from Tuscany just yesterday, I had that rarest-of-rare (these days!) fire in my belly to dig into historic matters, which only happens when I am about to go beyond the “given” version of what that typically entails; yes, there is so much beneath the surface of what we are presented as the masculine version of our past. We had spent the day before that in Volterra and I noticed a particular feeling there; one I truly relished, that felt familiar…and I noticed how it energised and invigorated me, how I walked in unfamiliarly brisk strides up steep inclines that would normally have me paused in pain many times over.

The night before, I had dreamt of a glowing city that was almost a seamless part of an outcrop at the top of a sheer cliff-edge-like hill, high above an astronishing landscape, and the word “citadel”, which I had hardly ever given consideration to or used before, rang clearly in my head over breakfast. I hardly knew a thing about Volterra before we set off, except that it had impressive Roman ruins and an Etruscan beginning. I had spent several visits to Tuscany staying in the once Etruscan hill town of Vetulonia when I was in my 20s and found the energy there quite dark…heavy…for all the busloads of colourful tourists yabbering and snapping pictures beneath the ancient Etruscan wall that made up the lower portion of the house in which my bedroom window was tucked just beneath roof tiles. The nights there had been hot and challenging, my dreams troubled and restless until those first tourists showed up to disturb me (more often, I was to be found snoozing in a deckchair on the roof, having got up to watch the sunrise). I therefore had no particular desire to repeat this rendezvous with what I remembered of “an Etruscan feeling” and Volterra’s antiquity didn’t draw me; rather, it seemed to put me off to the point I kept changing my mind back and forth. However, we had only one day left in Tuscany, it was meant to be one of the “best” places to visit in the region and held the promise of vegan food, an absolute rarity in Italy, which is often a clue as to an unexpectedly resonant place.


(Still relatively) modern-day Volterra

So we went and it was only as we drove the steep hill towards the town that I realised it looked more than somewhat like my dream-place, if a little time-weary and far less dazzling or pristine above the still-impressive Tuscan landscape at its feet. Once there, we spent perhaps too long enjoying lunch in that vegan restaurant, owned by a wonderfully energised native of that town, Enrico, who told us enthusiastically and at length (with much arm gesticulating) about multiple eco-projects he has up his sleeve. He also told us a far more intimate history of Volterra than the guidebooks get close to, informing us that out of the 12 Etruscan cities (…that sacred number no accident…), Volterra was its spiritual centre; its beating heart. We talked to him at such length that, when we got there, I found the Roman ruins not only less interesting than I expected but out-of-bounds, having been locked up for the day or perhaps even the season (we never found out which) and had to take our view of them from either up-high or through fences. Yet I’ve long since stopped regarding such a mishap as a disaster but as more of a source of curiosity in the way of a clue to something unexpected about to happen.

Because it was at the “Roman cistern” more so than the far more impressive theatre (that cistern, really, an Etruscan acropolis desecrated by being turned to such watery use) that I paid most attention for all I was, once again, stood outside a wire fence looking in. It was like I was being held in an energy vortex and heard the sweet sound of a most particular frequency coming in through my crown while I was standing there,  in spite of all the chatter and distraction of our group and the nearby children’s play area. I could even “see” this place as somewhat how it would have been at the edge of that astonishing view, long before city carparks grazed outside the town’s border and tumbled down into housing estates and industrial areas. My husband, seeing my dead-stillness, started to stroke my shoulder, concerned, but I remained absolutely still, needing to throw off all reminder of present time as I strained across the bridge of time towards some other feeling, waiting there still. There was such a potent sense of “return” that I was riveted for as long as I was able to prolongue the visit, held at bay from the actual spot by chicken wire and a locked gate. I knew I had found some lost fragment of myself and that this place was so profoundly, potently, powerfully feminine as to feel like being swept off your feet by it yet somehow made more complete, more forbidible, for the reunion. These Etruscan ancestors may have dwindled their sacred feminine way toward another kind of society, a later political excuse for being there, one not so very dissimilar from that of the Romans who subsequently came along and absorbed them into “empire” with bearly a break in their stride, but I knew I was feeling into a much earlier Etruscan intention, with more of the feeling of “matriarchy” about it (or at least a society founded on equality; there seems to be some evidence of that), a sense of their mortal life being lived in connection with, and consideration of, the vast universe at large and of profound respect for Gaia. I later learned that the principle deity of the Etruscans was the goddess Uni; “who has facets of a mother Goddess, birth Goddess, star Goddess, and love Goddess” (The Obscure Goddess Online Directory). This is what I was tuning into; and this, I have now discovered, is what DH Lawrence also tuned into so powerfully during his time spent living in Tucany, as so eloquently written about in his posthumously published work “Etruscan Places”. Why was I surprised to find that, once again, he and I were so in tune?


Vast stones

Lawrence, akin to many of us today, was at large in an era that felt desperately out of sync with himself; straddled as he was between the high-Victorian industrial~religious frustration of his youth and the fascist regime that was now sweeping across Europe following the mass destruction of World War I. All the primal passion and feminine-creative flow that he took inspiration from felt like it was being knocked into a cocked hat by a generation driven mad by materialism, modernism, greed and power (oh, I so get that feeling). The quote above captures something of the feeling that seemed to pulse out to him from all those mammoth Etruscan stones (how ever did they lift them?) still serving as foundation to so many once-Etruscan settlements and particularly that era’s artworks with its raw subjects and the sheer primal passion of their wild colour-juxtapositions. To quote Xavier Salomon writting for Apollo Magazine, to Lawrence, who was also an artist, ‘one Etruscan leopard, even one little quail, is worth all the miles of’ John Singer Sargent, who Lawrence somewhat unfairly, but true to his own taste, describes as ‘utterly uninteresting, a bore’. Whatever it was that he felt, I caught more than a trace of it for myself and, for an afternoon, it transported me; was as alive in me as it ever was maybe almost 3000 years ago, maybe long before that. Yes, these folk have long antiquity, though the details are mostly vague, missing or made up of contrictory academic speculation; instead, I would just remain open to what their remnants wake up in us, breathing it in as an energy charge…as Lawrence so clearly did. I should add for the sake of clarity, I had no idea Lawrence had written a book about the Etruscans until I chanced upon it this morning, after my return, though I knew he has spent time in Italy; but why should I be surprised.

My time spent in Volterra certainly charged me up and stays with me since; stirring up new curiosity and alertness to something – call it a frequency – and with the distinct feeling of having just answered a familiar call across resonant wavelengths in this place far from home. I think, without question, Enrico (with his enthusiastically vegan restaurant built over Etruscan ruins closely viewable through a glass floor beneath tables and chairs) is thoroughly tuned into it, day in and day out; plus I think there is probably something in the water. I never felt such potent energy spiralling out of one individual so eager to change the world with the vibration of love (he talked about that a lot and you could feel it distinctly) and one eco-project at a time. It was a truly invigorating place!

If you happen to visit Volterra, make sure you go to…

Life Bistro – much more than just a vegan restaurant in Volterra; also accomodation and retreats and lots of enthusiasm to make the world a better place!

Further reading:

DH Lawrence Among the Etruscans – an article worth reading as an introduction to Lawrence’s Etruscan Places (now on my read list). Interesting to hear Lawrence’s view of museums as I found myself totally unwilling to go into any of these on this latest trip to Italy, recoiling from the sense of “out of context” disassociation of artefacts from their intended location as well as the insistence upon reading information over feeling into what these objects have to say.

Posted in Ancient sites, Archaeology, Art, Art history, Art transformation tool, Biography, Consciousness & evolution, Culture, Divine feminine, History, Holiday destinations, Life journey, Literature, Menu, Personal Development, Remembering, Symbolic journeys, Travel, Vegetarianism | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Staying dry?

Its been three years since I last had a drink. There was no judgement in my decision to give up; I felt I simply had to, my body was shouting at me to do so. I needed to get a foothold on my other health issues and this habit was only holding me back.

Lately, I feel the nostalgia around it calling me back, partly as my daughter joins the throngs of young drinking people and feels saddened that her parents don’t (how ironic since, when she was younger, she hated that we did). Part of me wants to accommodate her and every other person that ever holds out a drink to me; I want to be able to go with the flow. I so dislike imperatives and, if this is dry, how much harm could a little wetness do, like a shower of rain in a visiting season?

Also because we are soon going to be staying somewhere that the whole culture of drinking will be in our face again due to the organic grapes that form part of the biodynamic way of life. Like the lovingly prepared plant-based dishes we will enjoy at every meal, I am aware that alcohol will be ever-present along with the chance to sample it, watch it being made, learn how to pair it with food, to make laughter and conversation over it with other guests from far and wide, that ice-breaker of old. As the sensual, earth-type that I am, I love all of that and long to take part fully. These are nice, enthusiastic, people who mean well (those holding out things we still, personally, need to think twice about often are; there is no “one size fits all”). Wouldn’t it be great to just graciously accept everything they have to offer? Yes, I know I am on the verge of being seduced and it would be so easy to tell myself that, in this context, it would be OK…

Yet in the dead of night an uneasiness surfaces over and over again. I feel the certainty in my gut that to do so is to choose a whole other trajectory to the one that feels like my joy; one with other outcomes, snowballing though they merely distort with great subtlety at first…little actions here, conversations there, mostly a change in my feeling about myself, plus an unconscious habit reignited, then a sea-change in our domestic life. Our way of being with each other, in more ways than I can put my finger on, bears little resemblance to our life of more than three years ago when opening wine was such a knee-jerk habit. These days, my sleep has a different quality, I awake with crystalline thoughts, the feeling in my body has altered so much it is beyond description, my personality feels consistent and I own all my behaviours, I live without regrets or misplaced actions. I simply haven’t missed drink; nor have I felt lacking when I’ve needed to be social or funny or confident (quite the opposite, actually). When I imagine a return to that old drinking habit, even if I tell myself it will be infrequent, I see it as a loosening of the mortar of all that I’ve built…like harsh weather erosion against a pristine pathway whose stones have been purposely placed there, leading directly to where I want to be going, somewhere new and exciting. That other way, with its baggier joints, the occasional pothole for stumbling over, so many distractions and detours and a ditch to sleep it off, leads somewhere I like less yet which is powerfully familiar…

To resist what everyone else will be immersed in doing for a week will be hard and will test me a great deal more than I’ve been tested by making my quiet choice not to drink at home.

Yet I didn’t come here for an easy way, I came here to be purposeful.

And my purpose, that other way, feels a little vaguer, more wooly, lost in the mists of forgetfulness. It feels like throwing myself back in with the commonplace and the consensus to be a little dumbed-down, to rub off my edges and “the point” I came with. That way, I don’t like myself as much and that feels almost worse of all, having worked at this so hard.

And for what? For that warm fuzzy feeling, that addiction we have to joining the lowest common denominator, to making ourselves “the same” as others in order to belong with them. Just like the way we are addicted to sharing tales of mishap and woe in order to have things we can all relate to with each other, never noticing how it drags us down, keeps our light dimmed, holds us back and gobbles up our uniqueness.

And oh how we have been in these places so many times before…a warm, sleepy path of familiarity. Lifetime after lifetime; this is why this profound sense of comfort and recognition tugging at me like a Christmas-feeling, a longing to return home, whatever the cost and the predictability. But that’s not where I want to be headed, this time around, this uncommon life (I decided that a long time ago). I aim for exception and newness, not repeats.

It’s so interesting to me, how compelling this herd mentality is; why can’t I just decide against having the drink without all this deep contemplation? Why do I feel I have to be sure before I even get into its vicinity? Because to go against it is to face up to a largely unacknowledged fear of abandonment, of being left out in the cold, that lies deep inside most of us. When people around you drink and you choose not to, it’s like watching them set sail on a particular sea and you left standing alone on the shore. It tugs at our most primal terror.

It would be easier if I didn’t relate so much to these people I’m about to spend time with but I do, in all the other ways; and I want to relax with them, to immerse in their micro-culture, their hospitality. To say “no” is to feel like you seem ungrateful, resistant or negating of what they “do”.

But where and how they live, the grape is part of another culture to mine; the sunshine, the food, the livelihood, the family life made up of many generations celebrating life together. In my life, drink has taken me to darker places. Was I ever an alcoholic? Yes, I suspect I was; it’s easier and more commonplace than we think. I come to it with my track record and the memories of that stored in my cells. This is why no two people have the same decision to make when it comes to drink (or anything else); our emotional memory, held in our cells, determines so much of what comes of the repeat behaviours, even when we have done so much work to wipe the slate clean. Can I be quite sure I’ve wiped that cellular memory clean through all my deep-healing and healthy ways? I’d have to be so sure and these powerful misgivings I have, disturbing my dawn hours, tell me otherwise.

So, I know, I need to choose this outcome through intention. There is no room for unconscious autopilot, which is what addiction amounts to; the chemical imperative that takes us over in ways that we hardly notice. Those lost hours of numbed-down senses undermine the desire and ability to be as crystal as I have become; I forget myself, forget what that other place even feels like, though I weep to leave it, even for a moment, so the remorse associated with drinking has only grown bigger. And the very action of deliberately poisoning the body for a feeling of relaxation goes against my higher intention and the whole focus of these last few years, which is to regenerate the body, to reinvigorate every cell.

I know drink’s symptoms of old; the toxic rush whose swoon feels like a facsimile of relaxation and bliss, then the heat and intense inflammation in the body as it works to burn it off, the lowered mood, the self-loathing and regret. I see in it so clearly the chemicals of certain age-old cultural beliefs, disempowering beliefs, released back into the blood.  If, due to good fortune of genetics, perhaps a wonderful lack of cultural or personal baggage, you can drink without this effect then drink away but, if not, you must choose carefully indeed.

My high-sensitivity only makes me feel every reaction in the body more minutely, even when I am under its influence, like a lucid nightmare; so maybe I react more extremely than others to drink (and why would I expect this to be any different from any other aspect of my highly sensitive experience of everything). The misplaced actions, the regrets, the embarrassments, the stupidity only add to this until I’m mortified and ashamed at myself, inside and out.

I came to notice, last time I drank, how the higher my vibration became, the harder it was to cope with the depths of that alcoholic deep-dive that once felt temporary, like a holiday from my high-energy, which can wear me out at times. At some point, that holiday became a hell; as the breach between those vibrations became wider, like a grand canyon cleaved through the landscape, and the climb back to myself, the next day, ever harder and more demoralising to endure. I felt lower and more forsaken each time I went there, on less and less volume of drink; it was like the kind of bereavement that leaves you on your knees and almost unable to stand up again. Made worse because I had done this to myself; the betrayal of betrayals, a broken promise to my higher self.

Again, if I dislike what I remember of these effects so much, if I am just so conscious of them, why is this still a topic of contention; why do I even consider a replay…this still continues to fascinate me.

So here I am, caught between this benign-seeming, socially acceptable behaviour plus my longing to be “normal”, if only for a week…and the  inner warnings sounding their extreme alarm for me not to go there; not even on the pretension that it would be temporary. And while I dislike imperatives, preferring the freedom of new choice in every moment, there are some things I know I would never consider doing…murder, for instance, and maybe this? Maybe I need to reach such a conclusion, to be clear in the face of an unconcious urge that still holds sway at some level of my being.

This is how hard it can be when we switch from following the mind to following the heart, though we have told ourselves so many times that this should be the easiest thing of all. Oh no, not easier, just a little more obvious when we are on track as that feeling of rightness, relief and even joy washes over us.

In the short-term, following the heart might make us feel more isolated and separate than we did when we lived in the separatist world of the mind. This is its paradox.

We are also, now, getting into much more personal, or individually unique, territory; this can also be disorienting as we are so used to thinking as a pack. What is “right” for one person may not be “right” for another and this is subject to constant evolution as we explore our individual adventures of self-expression. Again, I make no judgement about drinking; I just wanted to explore out loud how I have been processing my own dilemma and just how retrograde the habit has felt compared to where I have been. If you can still drink and all it does is give you warm-fuzzy, joyful feelings plus radiant health and added relaxation into the bargain then as you were –  drink away. The non-compatibility  I have personally noticed with the crystalline frequencies doesn’t make alcohol “wrong” but, perhaps, suggests its appeal will fall away for many as they explore other ways of getting their kicks in the years to come.

We are not infallible on this road to our higher consciousness, even though we may notice we have the wind behind us once we get on our way. Part of that awakening consciousness is to be aware of the potential for what feels like further hardship (we are still human…) and the paradoxical nature of the territory…and to notice where we are still vulnerable; where old addictions and fears draw us back to what no longer resonates for reasons such as familiarity or wanting to belong. From time to time, we may need to think into these areas as well as using the heart (the head is not our enemy; it can be our servant when we need to be quite clear…). Which is what I am doing here, in readiness for whatever I decide, which remains open, yet I am on a better footing, now, to  approach this decision openly, without any pre-conceptions or an agenda, except to serve the highest outcome.

Posted in Health & wellbeing, Life choices, Menu, Personal Development | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments