Month: January 2019

Instagram – Day Eighty

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Photo by L. Weikel

Instagram…      

Or “what I did on this frigid cold day.” OK, full disclosure: this may not be the most scintillating Ruffled Feathers ‘1111 Devotion’ post you’ve read. But the fact that my desire to be read by as many people as possible is pushing me to actually start creating a presence on Instagram  is big news in my living room.

Talk about getting messages. And being resistant to listening.

Face It, Facebook is Becoming Passé

I’ve watched and listened and observed first hand that younger people are eschewing Facebook. I’ve not wanted to acknowledge what I’ve been seeing because, heck, I’ve been busy feeling all ‘not-archaic’ for posting my blog’s link on my personal and two commercial FB pages!

While this realization about the fading status of FB wasn’t exactly breaking news, it seemed to culminate over the holidays, and I did. not. want. to. hear it. I did not want to admit that Instagram has quite obviously supplanted the popularity of Facebook – even if I was seeing it with my very own eyes. Well, through my kids’ eyes. So I just looked the other way.

How Many Times Did I Have to Hear It?

Then about a week ago, I’m in the local health food store and recognize a young person who used to stay at one of the places I would give Listening Retreats. When we started talking about when I would be scheduling my offerings for 2019, I asked her for her email.

She looked at me a little funny and said, “Gee, I rarely check my email.”

I wondered aloud if she was on Facebook – I could ‘friend’ her and she would see when I posted a Hoot Alert there… I let my voice trail off as I could tell she was going to lay on me the same comments my kids had. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I try to stay away from Facebook. It’s just too…” she reached for the right word.

“Yeah, I get it,” I said, interrupting her search. “I bet you’re on Instagram, though, right?”

I had a hard time hiding my irritation at the way her face brightened at the mention of Instagram. Not with her, but with my own annoying resistance to learning a new technology platform.

And then, again, when I was attending that CLE seminar in Philadelphia last week, weren’t there a few what I can only presume were Millenials standing near me on one of our breaks, waiting for hot water for tea. (And I make that presumption because I am pretty sure none of them had hit the big 3-0 yet.) I could see them scrolling on their phones, occasionally stopping the scroll, thumbs flying over the keys as they elicited that soft ‘slup slup’ keyboarding sound as they made comments or posted something of their own. One of them caught my eye and I laughed. “Instagram?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling. “It’s how I keep up.”

I Get By (or Got On) With a Little Help From My Friends

So today, with some shepherding and encouragement from Sarah (mysustainablechoices on Instagram), I took some steps, big to me, to actually make my Instagram account ‘live.’

And of course, when I excitedly shared my breakthrough with another of my tech-savvy friends (probably the most tech-savviest), cosmic.meta.crow, she helpfully (if a tad tongue-in-cheek) mused that I will now have a forum for all the photos I’m discovering and organizing. Ha ha. (But hey, at least that shows she’s been reading my posts!)

So this is the extent of my post today: to let the world know I’m going to be making my Ruffled Feathers blog, and 1111 Devotion posts, available on Instagram. And hopefully posting some cool photos, too.

Stay tuned you guys. You never know what’s going to happen when I start getting the hang of this. (I know, though. As soon as I really start to feel comfortable with it, some way cooler platform will come along and I’ll be going through this metamorphosis yet again.)

It does give me pause to wonder: Was getting over myself enough to give Instagram a try maybe at least one of the messages being sent to me by my Bat? It’s entirely possible.

Oh – and in case you’re wondering, my (what’s it even called? Account? Handle? – Don’t worry, I know it’s not that) is: owlmedicine29.

Join me! No. I guess it’s “Follow me!” Ha ha. And if you have any tips, feel free to share.

(T-1031)

Perspective – Day Seventy Nine

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Photo: L. Weikel

Perspective   

I’ll admit it; I got lost in the rabbit hole that is my photos again this evening.

But I did find one photo that I’d like to share. I was glad to see that I’d taken it, since another photo I’ve already used in a couple of posts is indeed great, but it does not give anywhere near the sense of perspective that this newer photo provides.

As you can see, it is the photo of the Chinggis Khan statue that overlooks a massive plateau on the outskirts of Ulaan Baatar, the capital of Mongolia.

The photo I’ve used before is taken from just below it. You can tell it’s no ordinary civil war statue, if you know what I mean. But this other photo helps give perspective.

It’s interesting to contemplate perspective. It is, as they say, ‘everything.’ Everywhere we look (or feel, or ‘find ourselves’) lately, we’re being bombarded with circumstances or experiences that are seriously challenging our understanding of perspective.

It’s Chilly Out There

Just off the top of my head, I’m thinking about the nearly mind-numbing arctic conditions swooping into the upper mid-west and slowly making its way east. I’ll admit; I’m having a hard time comprehending potential wind chills of negative 60 degree Farenheit. I think I saw Chicago is supposed to have a ‘high’ of negative 14 degrees. Straight up. No wind chill taken into account.

That’s frigid. That’s Siberia cold. And while I’ve never been in Siberia in the winter, I do have a little bit of perspective – we lived in Buffalo for three years back in the early ‘80s. But even having Buffalo for perspective, this ‘polar vortex’ being experienced in our country now is virtually unprecedented and simply lethal.

Shout out to my friends and family who are in the midst of this weather: please stay safe and warm, snug inside your homes.

Something Seems Awry

Another example of perspective that comes to mind this evening has to do with the daily outrageous revelations that erupt from Washington D.C. If we’ve been paying attention at all, we know that this presidency is unlike any other in the history of our country.

(I will admit here to having written several paragraphs on the revelation this evening about additional meetings that have been held between D.T and V. P., notes and transcripts of the conversations between the two securely – and most importantly SOLELY – in the hands of our adversary. But I have deleted all of those paragraphs and will sate myself with simply making this brief mention here and asking – no, entreating  –  you to please consider putting the egregiousness of this flaunting of our right to know what is being said in these meetings into perspective. And by ‘our’ I mean those who are tasked with protecting us, the American people: our intelligence agencies and other governmental experts and advisors.)

Perspective in this situation is critical to perceiving the enormity of the unprecedented ‘kompromat’ taking place right before our very eyes. And all of us have a gut feeling about it, even if we adamantly do not want to believe it could be true.

What happens when we lose perspective?

Because so much takes place every day, because so many scandals smack us in the face like a relentless battering of waves after we’ve fallen on the beach, keeping us from even being able to catch our breath, we are in danger of losing our perspective.

We cannot allow this to happen. (I say that, knowing full well we already have. And yet…) The stakes are too high to simply look the other way. We must do our best to seek and maintain perspective.

So perhaps a mnemonic might assist. The statue of Chinggis Khan looks pretty big as it is. But wow – when we step a few paces back and look at it in context to everything and everyone around it – you can feel it in your bones. It’s massive.

We can and must apply that same exercise in perspective to our government, and specifically, those in the Executive Branch. I think if we take a few steps back and look at it from that perspective, we just might get that weak-kneed, watery-insides feeling that tells us: this is massive; we need to pay attention.

(T-1032)

Photo: L. Weikel

So Many Photos – Day Seventy Eight

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So Many Photos       

I am in the midst of being seriously distracted by the discovery of the astounding number of photos I recently removed from my iPhone and placed on an external hard drive. (You know…to free up space on my phone for more photos.)

I’ve been frustrated by the fact that I knew I had a ton of great photos I’ve taken over the years, both with my camera and my iPhone, but I wasn’t sure where I’d stored them. Well, at least I’ve found some of them. But I’m absolutely certain there are a lot more yet to be rediscovered.

Writing this blog has made me acutely aware of how much I have that I do not use.

Wow. Just writing that sentence whacked me upside the head with its ugly truth – and not just with respect to photos (although that certainly does apply).

I hate to admit just how many photos I discovered on this external hard drive. Something like – no lie – 9,000 photos and videos. How could that be possible? I think a big culprit is how I tend to take about 50,000 shots of the same subject. That’s a real and present danger with digital photography. The tendency to take a million shots of the same stupid thing over and over again in an effort to capture whatever it is ‘just right.’

I’ll bet if I patiently wade through the photos I just discovered, only about 1,000 are actually worthy of being kept at all. And of those, probably only 200 would be worthy of being printed.

And There Are More Where They Came From

Perhaps even worse is the fact that, for as many photos as I just discovered, I know there are exponentially more stashed on some other external hard drive (or two) somewhere else here in the house. For instance, I know my photos from my first trip to Siberia (Tuva) are somewhere. I need to find them.

The thing is, I’m not one to make people look at photos I’ve taken of my trips. Indeed, I tend to wave off requests to share for fear of making people’s eyes glaze over. As a result, I honestly don’t know if I’ve shared any of my photos from any of my trips: to Tuva, Peru, Ireland, the Netherlands…and elsewhere. And since I never bothered to show them to anyone, I’ve not taken the time to organize them.

Hmm.

The Pitfalls of Digital Photos

This is definitely yet another very strong negative about digital photos. The first is that tendency to take too many photos of the same thing. The second is that I don’t organize them. And the third is perhaps the saddest of all: I neither look at them myself nor share them with anyone else.

I have to wonder where this odd habit of being loathe to share my photos with others comes from. Part of me suspects it comes from the years I sat in the dark watching slides taken by my parents and their friends. ‘Looking at slides’ was an extremely common past-time when I was growing up. It was always a big production: setting up the screen, getting the projector out, loading the carousel on the body of the machine.

Let’s Gather Round the Projector and Screen

I can still hear the whir of the fan inside the projector and the smell of the air it expelled – there was a distinct aroma to the machine as it heated up and the light bulb used to project the images documenting our lives became so hot that your skin would blister if you accidentally got too close to it. I distinctly remember the dust motes dancing in the beam of light broadcasting our images across the room, onto the screen, bigger than life.

I’m transported to what feels distinctly like another life as I recall sitting on the floor, leaning against a couch or laying flat with pillows under my head, through endless hours of “whirr, cuh-chunk, click” as each slide dropped into place before that withering light bulb.

Even though I declined to chuck those Kodak carousels filled with family memories, they’ve simply moved from my parents’ attic into ours. I used to have a projector of my own for some of the seminars I gave about 30 years ago, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work anymore. I’m equally sure I could get them transferred to digital media…if it were worth it. But I can practically guarantee I probably remember only a fraction of the names of the people depicted – and would I look at any of them, ever? Doubt it.

I don’t want that to happen with my memories. It behooves me to both cull and organize the photos I’ve taken and at least gives some context in case anyone ever looks at them in the future.

If nothing else, I hope to use more of them in this blog. Although you guys are probably going to get really tired of all the clouds, sunsets, creeks, rivers, oceans, trees, flowers and every animal that’s ever crossed my path. But there’ll be a couple cool shaman-shots mixed in.

(T-1033)

Lucky 77 – Day Seventy Seven

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Lucky 77       

I don’t know…this seems like it should be a ‘lucky’ post, don’t you think? The seventy seventh one?

Not only is it a multiple of 11 (let’s hear it for the 1111 Devotion, folks, the reason we’re all here – or at least the reason I am), it’s also the year I graduated from high school. Which kind of jump-starts me to thinking about my birthday that’s coming up in a couple months.

For some weird reason, I’ve been thinking about it lately. I’ve found myself literally reminding myself that this birthday will be different. Not on the outside. Not with respect to anyone or anything outside of my little old self.

But the very fact of it is already different inside myself.

Approaching 60

It’s strange to think that I’ll be turning 60. Of course, everyone surely feels this way when they get here. And when they continue to be lucky enough to reach further societally-acknowledged milestones. I realize I’m not unique. Unless you count those who don’t reach this number. Or won’t. Ever.

It’s weird for me to think that I’ll be turning twice the age Karl was when he died. I’ve had twice the number of years to experience life, although I am quite confident that he encountered many situations and had a myriad of scares, adventures, and opportunities (for good and for ill) that I may never have (or would never seek out). And that’s true in spite of the fact that I’ve had more than the average bear’s chances to do some wild and crazy shit.

In fact, I sometimes wonder if my willingness to recount some of the adventures I had spurred him on to take some of the chances he did. Probably.

Was My Approach to Life a ‘Contributing Factor?’

And there have been moments, usually when writing in my journal and perhaps reflecting on how I see or perceive other people and how they react and respond to their kids, that I’ve asked myself if my parenting should or could have been a substantial contributing factor to his early death. (Not that I’m saying it was ‘my’ parenting. To be clear, it was (is?) mine and  Karl’s – one thing we strive to always be unified on is our approach to raising our sons.)

What I mean by that ‘contributing factor’ musing is that in listening to others and how they respond to their kids’ dreams and ideas, I’m often genuinely surprised by how outlandish my instinctive responses seem to be in comparison.

I’m all about gathering experiences.

Which is probably why I am so attracted to living a shamanic approach to life – the essence of which is based in one’s own unique experiences.

There were at least a couple of moments in the eleven months that I was in Europe when I was 17-18 years old that I could easily have died. In a few, I could have been killed accidentally. In a couple of others, I was simply lucky that the glint in a few people’s eyes didn’t turn into something deadly. I even knew it in the moment of each occurrence.

Learning Through Experiencing

Knowing I’d been lucky in those times that I surely was, though, didn’t make me swear off adventure or unique opportunities. But I know that that knowing  served to hone my instincts. I distinctly remember realizing that the little niggling edge to the wildness I’d seen in someone’s eyes might next time be a ticket to horror.

A couple of times I knew on some level I’d been given a lucky break. You can’t count on them happening every time. You can’t even count on them happening twice. But you can learn from them. You can reflect on what that situation taught you to avoid next time.

I honestly don’t know where my philosophy of life came from. But I’ve always known I wanted our sons to never say no to an experience simply out of fear. Out of intuitive caution? Yes. An assessment of risk that said in their head and heart, “That’d be dumb?” or “That’s a risk not worth taking?” Yes. But due to generalized fear as a result of other people thinking it was a crazy idea or it was something they wouldn’t do? No way.

I know Karl pushed his edge. I know he did things that pushed the edge of his fear, sometimes going too far and paying the consequences (or getting lucky) and other times because he had thought it through and considered the experience worth the risks. And I know he had stories he wanted to tell me – but was waiting until the ‘right time’ to tell. I regret I’ll never hear them; and I regret he never wrote them down the way I asked him, repeatedly, to do.

Regrets?

There’s the chance, I suppose, that Karl (husband) and I could have tempered Karl (son’s) ambition for adventure. No. That’s incorrect. We could have, possibly, attempted  to temper his ambition for adventure. But I truly believe that if we’d spent our time trying to talk him out of things (or more likely, threatening, cajoling, or forbidding), we would have ended up either repulsing him right out the door without encouraging him to be smart when choosing risks, to use his brains and his instincts and his intuition, or we would have broken his spirit and condemned him to a life of mind-numbing (and illusory) safety.

So no, I guess I don’t regret the way we’ve encouraged our sons to approach and live their lives. And if the way we raised them resulted in Karl living the life he did in his 30 years and dying the way he did? I have to rest in my core belief that a life lived full on, as they say, is a life worth living.

Wow. How did I get to this by beginning with a comment about the number 77?

(T-1034)

Sunset Dakini – Day Seventy Six

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Photo by L.Weikel

Sunset Dakini         

We took a walk late this afternoon. I’m including a few photos I took of the western sky as we crested the hill about half a mile from our house. This is the place where we’re wowed most often by the artistry of our atmosphere.

When I took the photos, I knew the designs in the sky were remarkable. But sometimes it’s not until you get home and you have a chance to look at them in a different context that the images make an even greater impression.

When I saw the first wispy squiggles taking shape, I almost ignored them. My attention was much more powerfully drawn to the burning brilliance of the sun’s rays blazing through the gaps in the clouds just above the horizon.

But something called to me. Those much paler clouds that looked like a feeble attempt at calligraphy asked to be noticed.

And as I did indeed start paying attention to that seemingly less dramatic part of the sky, those strokes of water vapor seemed to coalesce into a face of startling ferocity. Indeed, it appeared to be swooping down toward Earth in a fiery whoosh.

The word that came to mind was dakini.

mayumioda.org

Photo by L. Weikel

I honestly had no idea I was going to write about these photos – nor, especially, of my thought, “Dakini,” that had whispered in the back of my mind when I first looked at the photos I’d taken on my iPhone. Consequently, I’m a bit astonished that my Dakini – my “sky-goer” or “space dancer” which is what the Tibetan word for dakini, khandro, means, is asking to be acknowledged.

But here she is. And this is the little bit I’m finding in my brief search of the word. I refer you to the website from which I’m offering a few quotes, Dakini Power.

Dakini (Sanskrit): A Female Messenger of Wisdom

“A female embodiment of enlightenment is called a dakini. In the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit. (…) “‘The dakinis are the most important elements of the enlightened feminine in Teibten Buddhism,’ says American teacher Tsultrim Allione. ‘(…) Sometimes the dakinis appear as messengers, sometimes as guides, and sometimes as protectors.’”

I don’t honestly know why I’ve written this post. Perhaps the Dakini (it feels right to capitalize this, I’m not sure why – probably out of respect?) simply wanted to be acknowledged.

I’d like to think perhaps she is acting as a messenger to me. Perhaps she is bringing me some wisdom, perhaps tonight in the dreamtime. Or maybe simply by spurring me to look her up in this way and write about her ever so briefly, I will receive some transmission.

Who knows?

From what I can tell, I’m no further along in my understanding of what the message that I described in yesterday’s post is about.

But I saw a dakini in the sky tonight. That’s something.

(T-1035)

Sometimes It’s Not Obvious – Day Seventy Five

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boyslife.org

Sometimes It’s Not Obvious          

Even though I haven’t talked about it in quite a while, Karl and I continue to pick Medicine Cards each morning. And even though we’ve been consistently picking them every morning for the past, oh, twenty five years or so…sometimes it’s not obvious what Spirit’s trying to say through them.

For instance, I’ve had Bat in some configuration of my cards for the past four days in a row. And that damn Beaver’s shown up with it half the time. (You may recall Beaver was underneath my Prairie Dog on January 1st, setting the agenda for the year.)

Bat, Bat, and More Bat

So, yeah. On Tuesday I picked Bat/Beaver. Wednesday, Beaver reversed/Bat. (How’s that for weird, when you remember Karl shuffled and chose his cards between my two picks). Thursday I chose Fox reversed/Bat. And today I chose Bat/Eagle.

To be honest, I’m a little frustrated. Bat is one of my favorites. I love when it shows up in my cards. Not only do I love bats in the wild, but I also love what Bat represents archetypally, which is rebirth. And of course, in order to bring about rebirth, there has to be death.

Birth/Death/Rebirth

Bat is all about the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.

On the one hand, that’s a tad scary. It’s a cycle of rather cataclysmic experiences, when you think about it. Giving birth is no walk in the park, although I can honestly only consciously reflect upon what it feels like to give birth. Not be born. And even if the cycle doesn’t pertain directly to our physical bodies, there is a finality to death that can be unsettling, at the very least.

And sure, there’s always rebirth. But will any remnant of that which died be recognizable in that which is reborn? Who knows.

Truth be told, I like to look at Bat as an opportunity to start anew. Yeah, something has to die. But I’d prefer to think I’m being asked to give up a way of being that no longer serves me (or maybe never did, and I’m only figuring that out now).

“Symbolic Death to the Old Ways of Life and Personal Identity”

“Bat embraces shamanistic death. The ritual death of the healer is steeped in secrets and highly involved initiation rites. Shaman death is the symbolic death of the initiate to the old ways of life and personal identity. (…)”

I love the idea of initiation, because for me it speaks of the sacred and signifies beginning – a fresh start – the act of setting foot on a new path of exploration and growth. I love the mysterious challenge inherent in the prospect of learning something unique and (hopefully) heretofore obscure, for when the word initiation is used, it always calls to mind, for me at least, something esoteric.

For the life of me, though, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be relinquishing.

Another paragraph that leaps off the page when I read Bat is:

“If Bat has appeared in your cards today, it symbolizes the need for a ritualistic death of some way of life that no longer suits your new growth pattern. This can mean a time of letting go of old habits, and of assuming the position in life that prepares you for rebirth, or in some cases initiation. In every case, Bat signals rebirth of some part of yourself or the death of old patterns. If you resist your destiny, it can be a long, drawn out, or painful death. The universe is always asking you to grow and become your future. To do so you must die the shaman’s death.”

I’ll be honest: I do not want to be so obtuse that I force myself into a long, drawn out, or painful death. And I am willing to embrace, and am even a bit excited at the prospect of, growing and becoming my future.

I sincerely yearn to ‘get the message.’ And I would much rather figure it out and consciously  let go than dither around bullshitting myself. So that’s what I’ll be contemplating this weekend.

Sometimes it’s not obvious.

Or maybe it is, and I just have to open my eyes (and my ears) and pay attention.

I’ll keep you posted; (wink). Pun intended.

(T-1036)

worldatlas.com

Listening Wins Again – Day Seventy Four

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Listening Wins Again         

One of my greatest passions in life is witnessing the healing power of listening. The corollary to that is the thrill I get in conveying my passion to others and helping them experience first hand how listening can transform both their lives and those to whom they listen.

My delight in listening and its many gifts is so ingrained in me that I actually feel my entire body quicken when I hear of an instance in which listening is happening for people – and it’s making a difference. Actually, that last clause is oxymoronic. For whenever listening is really and truly taking place, it makes a difference.

I’m thinking specifically of something I heard today that gladdened my heart.

I was in Philadelphia today, attending a CLE (Continuing Legal Education) program. Just as in almost all other professions, lawyers must take a certain number of course credits per year in order to keep their licenses current.

Some Background

I decided to take a course on Family Law, since a big part of my practice used to consist of these types of cases. It’s been a long time since I handled a divorce, support, equitable distribution, or custody case, and I wondered if things had changed much in the intervening years. This particular course focused specifically on the practices and procedures followed in the four counties surrounding Philadelphia, Bucks County being one of them.

Honestly, I think I was surprised by just how little has changed since I first started practicing here 36 years ago. Except for one thing: I noticed that the court personnel who were presenting the course and describing how each of their offices specifically handle various aspects of these cases genuinely are committed to improving our clients’ sense of being treated fairly.

Seems obvious, doesn’t it? Isn’t that the whole point of having a judicial system?

That’s what I thought, too.

The Wild West of the Legal System

But when I first started handling family law cases I was absolutely horrified by the fact that, at that time, there were no standards or guidelines, for instance, on child support. You went into court with your client, armed with proof of your client’s income, as much proof as you could muster of the other side’s income, and a long and tedious list of all of the expenses of raising the children. And then it was a crap shoot. It was as if you’d stepped into the wild west. You literally had no standards, no guidelines, nothing with which to even give your client an idea of what they would owe (or receive), other than what you could guess from other cases you’d handled. And even those outcomes were often disparate, for a lot depended upon which hearing office or judge heard your case, and whether they were cranky that day.

Luckily for everyone, this started to improve almost as soon as I began practicing. Guidelines were enacted statewide, giving people at least a ‘ballpark’ range of what they could expect, and some predictability was introduced into the system. It is hard to believe things actually ran that way back then.

Everybody Has a War Story

The worst part of that, though – which is something that actually continues to this day – were the war stories that would inevitably circulate among every client’s family, friends, and acquaintances. These stories (perhaps more accurately called fables) would tell of exorbitant weekly or monthly sums being levied (or scored), and in the realm of equitable distribution (the divvying up of the assets and debts of the marriage), one side or the other receiving monumental (or paltry) percentages of the value of the parties’ assets.

Needless to say, with no clear idea of how any particular hearing officer or judge was going to decide what was going to be fair for your particular client to receive (or have to pay) on any particular court date, and many of those surrounding your client kibitzing on what she or he should or shouldn’t get (or pay), this area of the law was rife with misery. Not only were their worlds falling apart emotionally. No one felt heard. No one felt treated fairly. And few felt they’d received justice.

By the time I stopped handling family law cases, a lot more uniformity in the treatment of cases had been introduced. But there was still a very callous manner of treating people (in my experience) when court appearances were required. Clients were often shushed and only allowed to speak through their attorneys. Perceived injustices were dismissed out of hand, and if an attempt was made to voice such perceptions and simply tell their stories or at least explain their position, blowback could, and often did, occur.

A New Respect and Appreciation for Listening

So I felt a real thrill today when I heard how committed many of the “masters” (those court personnel who hear and resolve roughly 85% of all equitable distribution cases) are to going out of their way to treat parties with respect. They make a point of showing them exactly how they are proposing splitting things up and why. And many encourage each of the parties to express their position and have their opportunity to not only be heard – but be listened to.

If I heard it once today, I heard it at least a dozen times: “It’s amazing how much easier it is to achieve resolution when the parties feel they are having a chance to state their position – and that we’re listening.”

Divorce is painful. Splitting up our possessions is hard. Figuring out how to best handle custody and support is always a challenge. But when the system offers dignity, listens, and explains, even if we don’t agree, it can make the whole ordeal a lot less traumatic.

Listening wins again.

(T-1037)

Not Politics – Day Seventy Three

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Photo: theconversation.com

Not Politics

As I sit here staring off into space wondering what I could write that might be of even the slightest interest to you, I keep coming back to politics.

I don’t want to write about what’s going on ‘out there’ right now. Actually, you can thank your lucky stars, right at the start of this post. Why? Because I just wrote a medium-sized (for me) post on my ‘birth’ into activism some 18 years ago.

And then I chucked it.

Finding the Sweet Spot

I don’t want to talk or write about politics (at least not today), and if I write about activism, and how mine was sparked, that presumes speaking about the issues that call to my heart and stir my passion. And probably like many of you, I feel there are a myriad of things happening right before our very eyes that are, quite simply, incendiary.

Indeed, it’s tough to find a sweet spot these days when it comes to balancing civic responsibility with maintenance of even a modicum of mental, physical, and spiritual hygiene. It is nearly impossible to keep up with everything that’s going on and not feel mired in muck. Or enraged to the core. Or hopeless.

And yes, I do turn the tv off while I write my posts, so anything I write pretty much comes from a place of me sitting in my beloved silence. But it’s hard. And even when I do, it’s swirling in my mind.

Setting a Disturbing Precedent

I’m finding our current state of affairs to be setting a truly disturbing precedent. It’s just like smart phone use. It’s addictive. And making matters even worse, it’s also akin to driving slowly past an accident on the interstate. We can’t help but look.

All of us know things are accelerating in Washington D.C. The pace of revelations is unsustainable – although it’s only just now reaching the top of the first (and usually biggest) rise of our cultural rollercoaster. Prepare for more – and at stomach-dropping speed.

The disturbing precedent I mentioned, though, is that fix of dopamine we’ve all become habituated to receiving every ten or fifteen minutes every day, or even more frequently if we are hopeless ‘refreshers.’ The only thing that saves some of us is when we are fortunate enough to have a task where our full and undivided attention is required.

It’s a problem, and it’s disturbing. I worry whether we will ever allow ourselves as a society to drop back from this break-neck pace of constant “Breaking News.”

Will We Ever Return to Peace?

I ask you: Can you honestly imagine our society returning to a relative sense of calm and trust in the day-to-day institutions that keep our lives running with some sense of normalcy, order, and trustworthiness?

Sometimes I am glittering with hope in humanity. Other times…not so much.

I’m going to wrap up this post and bring it to a close. My eyelids are heavy and my heart’s close behind.

Aren’t you glad I didn’t talk about politics? Ha ha. Yeah. Me too.

Have a great day.

(T-1038)

“It’s scary out there.”  – Cider

The Power of Words 2- Day Seventy Two

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

 

The Power of Words 2

I thought I had nothing to say last night, but I’m glad something seemed to bubble up to the surface.

I decided to write about the power of words because I’d recently noticed a number of friends and clients repeatedly using some pretty awful-sounding expressions. Most of these expressions are used so routinely in our everyday speech that I’m pretty sure we barely even register them. Indeed, most of us don’t actually ‘hear’ them – even when we’re the ones uttering them.

Worst is the Stuff We Don’t Even Hear

In many ways, that’s an even more insidious state of affairs than when we actively embrace what some might consider ‘hate speech’ or language that is clearly meant to inflict pain of some kind. That’s because the literal meaning of the common expressions we use so often slips right into our subconscious without a blip on our screen.

Interestingly, too, most of these insidiously harmful statements are directed at ourselves. We most often are using the expressions to describe how we feel using hyperbole: obviously, we know when we’re experiencing even the extremely dire circumstances in a business deal – we’re not literally ‘dying,’ or ‘getting killed.’

But if we subscribe to the power (even if small) of affirmations to potentially shift our reality and bring our desires toward us, then surely we must consider what saying, “That’s killing me; that’s killing me; that’s killing me,” over and over to ourselves might have on our health and well being.

When we commit to paying attention to what we speak out loud, we obviously must start by paying attention to our thoughts and to what we’re thinking before we speak. That can lead to some distressing realizations, believe me. Even if we tend to think of ourselves as pretty optimistic, kind, and thoughtful people (to others), we can be in for a rude (and sometimes horrifying) awakening when we realize we rarely extend those courtesies to ourselves, or worse, actually brutalize ourselves internally.

Cancel That!

One technique I was taught a long time ago, to enhance our awareness of what we’re speaking and thereby manifesting, has to do with the Akashic Records. You may recall that the Akashic Records is a vast library of sorts that contains our every thought, word, and deed. Well, I was taught (by my very experienced teacher who specialized in reading the Akashic Records) that the record is not ‘made permanent’ for, I believe, 7-8 seconds. Thus, if we do not want to add weight to a hastily spoken expression, we need to ‘cancel’ it.

Not only does canceling the expression of the objectionable words or sentiment keep it from being made permanent, it also, ideally, makes us more personally aware of our own thoughts and what we’re allowing to come out of our mouths. If we’re vigilant, it can cause us to pay attention and self-correct.

Yes, We Can Harm Others, Too

Another consequence of the misuse of the power of words is something we may or may not be aware of or intend to have happen – causing harm to others. And that’s where my work can get a little edgy for some people.

I’ve removed a number of energetic manifestations of words and intentions from clients’ bodies over the years. Usually they were hurled at a client in fits of rage or fear or loathing. They are almost always literal representations of the thought form that was being projected toward my client.

I’m sure you can guess some of the things I’ve removed: knives and other sharp objects being common manifestations. People ‘stab’ others in the back a lot. And if they do it often enough, or with particular vehemence, it can start to solidify, in a sense, in the luminous energy field surrounding the recipient’s body. If the onslaught persists over time, it can actually create physical symptoms and even take on a physical form.

As a small aside, it is fascinating sometimes to see the creativity with which some people hurl stuff at others.

Self-inflicted Wounds of Another Kind

Oh – and another thing we’re very capable of is manifesting these sorts of things on ourselves. What I mean by that is if we think and feel we’re being stabbed in the back, for instance, the manifestation that I might See and remove may actually have been manifested by you and your persistent thoughts of being the victim of such an onslaught.

My point is that we have a lot more power available to us than most of us realize. And it’s time that we started taking responsibility for that power by cleaning up how we think and speak to and about both ourselves and each other.

Obviously, the final and most powerful manifestation is ‘doing the deed.’ That’s much more easy to control (presumably) (hopefully!), since we can get in serious trouble if we go about literally stabbing people in the back, etc. I’m not even going to waste my breath on that.

The cool thing is, once you start paying attention to your thoughts and words, the easier it becomes to choose more consciously and wisely. It becomes second nature. That’s not to say that lapses don’t occur. But overall? The cumulative effect of taking active responsibility for keeping our thoughts, words, and deeds ‘clean’ and on the up-and-up is better health, a lighter step, a quicker smile, and far fewer experiences of feeling aggrieved.

(T-1039)

Words Have Power – Day Seventy One

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Words Have Power

This is going to be a quick post. I don’t know if it’s the frigid weather (we actually have ice forming on the inside of some of our windows) (yea for old houses?) or what, but I am much more tired than usual.

I had a conversation today that highlighted a habit so many of us indulge in without even realizing it: using words in our routine conversations, often completely unaware of what we are “putting out into the Universe,” that can end up having unintended consequences.

I’m surprised I haven’t written about this before. I suppose it’s possible I have, and I’ve just forgotten. But I don’t think that’s the case.

The “Background” Noise We Make All the Time

Anyway, I know this is something that I will write about again and again because it is critically important for all of us to be aware of not only the specific obvious things that we say, but also the background noise that we utter.

For instance, I’ve seen many instances in which someone makes a comment such as, “I’m pissed,” or “I’m pissed off,” when describing how they feel about a situation or person they’re dealing with. Now, obviously, if this is a random statement, it’s rare that anything will come of it. But I have noticed both in observing other people and, sadly, in my own experience, that if you say such a thing (or a close facsimile) often enough, it is not a big surprise when a urinary tract infection or some type of similar physical issue pops up.

I’ve noticed a similar long-term-use effect in the oft-used phrase “such and such is a pain in the ass.” I guarantee you would be astonished by how many people end up experiencing some form of a literal “pain in the ass” when this type of a phrase is used often enough. From hemorrhoids to sciatica, I’ve seen it manifest.

I know. I realize this may sound like some really dumb, anecdotal stuff. And it is anecdotal. I’m not sure how one would go about proving this correlation scientifically. But you know what? Anecdotal evidence is good enough for me to watch what I put out into the world.

The Energy of Thought, Word, and Deed

I first learned about the importance of taking responsibility for the words we utter when I was first being schooled in the energy associated with thoughts, words, and (obviously) deeds. There is an order of magnitude associated with the power our words have on us and our environment. When those words exist in our thoughts alone, they most definitely have power. But once spoken, they have an even greater impact. And it is obvious, of course, that deeds, putting our thoughts and words into action, often have the most profound and most rapid impact.

The error is in thinking that only our deeds have the power to impact our minds, bodies, or circumstances.

The couple of examples I’ve used above are a drop in the bucket of the myriad ways in which I hear people using words (almost always unconsciously) that feels, to me, like they’re playing with fire and laying the groundwork for some serious ramifications. And it isn’t even that they’ll always manifest it in themselves. But speaking it out loud will almost always end up bringing some form of it into your life in some way.

It’s the Everyday Conversations

Which is why we need to take responsibility for the words we choose to use, not only when we’re speaking in front of a crowd or writing something for publication. Indeed, we are often more careful about the words we use in those settings. It’s the every day conversations that have the greatest effect, as these are the conversations we have over and over and over. And these are the situations in which we are most likely to find ourselves using phrases or expressions that we do not intend literally, but, said over and over and over again (unconsciously) can result in an unintended cumulative effect of manifesting in some way in our life.

Indeed, even more insidious than the words we use in our everyday conversations are the words we use when we speak to ourselves. Those repeated thoughts, judgments, and phrases that are only heard between our own ears.

Our bodies are listening. Our minds are listening. Our souls are listening.

Truth be told, I’m only speaking of the effect we might have on ourselves by the words we use in our everyday conversations.

Sticks and Stones?

As hard as it may be to believe, the old adage we were taught as kids, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,” is definitely not as iron-clad a truism as we might like to think. And again: I’m not even talking about the damage I’ve seen inflicted by others on others.

I’ve been hearing a lot of really dicey use of words and phrases lately by a number of people I care about. I do not want them manifesting the flippant or unconscious comments they make in describing how they feel about what’s going on in their lives.

While I know I sound like a broken record, I’m just trying to call attention to the words we use. Please, pay attention. Try your best to be vigilant and refrain from using phrases such as, “That gave me a heart attack;” “I nearly had a stroke;” “He’s a pain in the ass;” “It’s killing me;” “I feel crazy;” etc., etc.

Listen to yourself. Realize that you are creating with your words, so choose wisely.

Go forth and have a great day.

(T-1040)