Marathon Redux

Along about mile 19 or 20 of my first and only marathon, the gift of the challenge appeared.  A true gift is something that is lasting, substantial, and generous, a manifestation that reaches to the core of the spirit.  Running through the streets of London on that beautiful April day in 1997, the first 7 miles went by quickly, as the sights and sounds of the experience provided the celebratory context of joy and excitement. 

The next 7 miles were not all that difficult either, although by about 15, the blisters on my feet were demanding more Advil than was probably wise to be taking.   By mile 16 or 17, I'd blown through several second winds.  My body was aching.  I was starting to feel weak.  Fear that I might not make it had to be pushed back.  For that, the people cheering on the sidelines was enough.  Running along with my friend, Gustanna, we smiled to hear "Good show, girls.  Carry on. You can do it."  Under duress, those optimistic cheers were potent medicine.     But at around 6 miles to go, I'd spent everything I had.  I stopped for a bathroom break, and told Gustanna to go on ahead without me, that I would catch up if I could.  

Back out on the course, at a slow easy pace, I soon realized I wanted to find out what kind of reserves I still had, and picked up my rhythm.  No sooner had I made that decision than I found myself flying through the streets, and it wasn't all that long at all before I thought I glimpsed the back of her head in a pack of runners a long, long way in front of me.   By mile 23, I was back with her, and we finished together.  Exhilerating.  26.2 miles through the streets of London.  Amazing.  When we finished, some part of me, my spirit, wanted to keep going.    My body begged me not to listen.

The gift was to discover that empty is an illusion;  only when you think you are toast, do you get to learn you are not.  This comes as visceral knowing, not a cliche or platitude.  It is hard earned, and gloriously real.

For some people, a life threatening diagnosis is a health crisis to be dealt with mostly on the physical level.... doctors, meds, time, patience.    For others, the healing marathon is spiritual, a very real dark night of the soul.    This is a phrase that is not well understood, and used too lightly.  The dark night is multi-faceted, cold, dark emptiness  Its purpose is transformation and release into a higher order of being.  By the time you are in the thick of the dark night, you've already tried most of what other people, from the sidelines, might think to offer as support or advice.  You are too tired to say so.  You are deep in the crysalis of the experience, trying to hold on until your imaginary wings poke through as real.

If anyone I know and loved had witnessed me in London, they might have seen me weak, pale, and afraid at the lowest point, and they might have wanted to give advice.  "Drink more water.  Walk for a while.  You can stop any time you want to, you've already won the challenge by your presence and willingness to try."  Any number of things, spoken well intentioned, lovingly offered, can not touch the dynamics of the internal event.  The point is a higher order, discovered by testing and faith, pushing toward a victory innocently, enthusiastically imagined months earlier at the outset of training..... warrior training....delicious testing to become more intimate with the Universe.

In my current marathon, I'm at about mile 17 at the moment.  I know what will happen.  I gave myself that gift some years back on the jog /bike trail in Mill Valley, and on the streets of London.  Still, dark is dark, until it isn't any more.  If you see me right now, you will know I am low.  But don't be confused by that.  Inside, the furnace is kicking in, kicking up, starting to blaze.  A higher order is beginning to manifest, but is as yet, invisible. 

Whenever we transcend our previously experienced limits, we are encountering the Universe with utter intimacy.... one on one time with the forces of creation and deep, firey love.  It isn't any place that can be shared while it is going on.   Reaching out to plug into the Universal field is a one-on-one event, daring, stepping with the faith of a child and the resolve of a warrior.  

There's a reason they call it a test.

Passing with colors flying, is all I've ever known.

Keep holding the faith.  When its all over, I will share the gifts of this experience, and I do look forward to that.

Loving darkness does not mean loving anything about the circumstance or the experience.  It means trusting the purposefulness in landing in it.... loving the Universe that much.

The Intention Effect

Back in the early 80's,  I was an instructor for the Silva Method, which is an introductory course in developing basic skills of awareness for directing the energies of inner life.  Taking the course the first time was such a thrill to me;  it was the equivalent of having w-a-t-e-r spelled into my hand at the pumphouse... offering concepts and tools for a vast, vast sense of untapped, fuzzy and foggy potentials within.  I immediately wanted to become certified to teach it.  

We were busy manifesting all kinds of things in our lives decades before everyone was talking about "the Secret."    One of the outcomes of my Silva experience was a deep desire to some day be part of a group that agreed on a collective manifestation exercise.  I've been close to it a few times, but never actually had the full-on experience. 

The first time I imagined such a thing,  I'd just arrived at the Institute of Noetic Sciences, and I was learning to think and be inspired on a global scale.  I remember feeling a little sheepish and probably transparently naive about confessing an idea to schedule and promote a day for global focus on peace.  These days, there are full on experiments boldly done precisely in that same spirit.  It is good to witness the evolution of collective consciousness.  In the late 80's, intuition was still a code word spoken among the underground, a way to signal to someone else that you were available for a deeper conversation as yet unavailable in mainstream culture.

Lynn McTaggert has been a leading voice for intention and manifesting for a number of years now.  She's written bestsellers about it, and consults with places like Princeton and the Institute of Noetic Sciences in their psi/consciousness research experiments. She's even a part of Dan Brown's new novel, The Lost Symbol. Her website (http://theintentionexperiment.ning.com/) is full of interesting group intention exercises.  She is proving statistically/scientifically that when groups of human beings direct their focus in the same direction, holding the same intention, their efforts can be measured; the broader effect is that consciousness becomes a little more real to more people, and more powerful.  Anyone with a computer can join in.

Of course, the Maharishi and TM meditators were demonstrating this decades ago.  Those experiments are widely known, and the pioneering nature of the Maharishi's vision is becoming more apparent every day.

All of this brings me to my own intention experiment, and I want to invite anyone who can participate, to do so.   Here is what to do:  At noon (your local time) every day (or as many days as you can manage it) for the next few months, picture me in your awareness, feel the love connection we share together.  Register that loving feeling as fully as you can.  Take a few deep breaths while imagining you are standing within a large container of Light, and say these words:  "Lovingly felt and expressed, Sandy is completely healed, whole, and in perfect health NOW."  Speak these words in your mind with conviction, as if you are issuing a flat-out royal decree to the Universe.  (You may wish to practice saying it until you can feel your own personal power.)   Once you've spoken the affirmation/decree, take another deep breath and feel gratitude in your heart, being thankful to be alive, connected to the Universe, and enjoying life... and gratitude for my healing.  It will take no more than a minute of your time.

Noon is the suggested time based upon the idea that when the sun is at its zenith each day, greater power is available more than at any other time of day.

If word spreads, and people you love want to join in, people that I don't personally know, the process is the same with one exception:  when feeling the love connection to me, if you need help doing that, then feel the love connection you have to the person who shared this with you.  In this way, the affirmation is fully spoken, and we bless one another as well.  The basic substance of the Universe is made of  Love, baraka, the impalpable essence of all things, and the one true thing every sentient being came here to experience.

This is a demonstration of prayer, lovingly spoken into the fabric of the Universe, of our collective reality.  Each time you do it, I will feel it, and it will support me in ways I very much want and need for my healing.  We will do it together.   While most/all of you have prayed on my behalf, when we do it in Unison, the prayers are far more powerful... the power of One.

And I will look forward to reporting back to you about our intention effect, the very affirmation, "I am completely healed, whole, and in perfect health NOW." 

I love you.


Thank you.

Wrestling with the Devil

Vici and I were on the phone again today until our phone batteries were running on fumes.  That's twice in a week.  In a crisis, she's a person to have in your corner.   Serious illnesss is a spiritual crisis/opportunity.  It is good to have a soul sister who can span that range with you -- from the side of crisis and pain, to the other side of opportunity and highest outcome.  In my experience, most people specialize in one side or the other.  Today we talked about the core meaning of Armageddon, and to do that, one must be able to see the dark while standing in the light.  And vice versa.

Christ consciousness slays the beast.  That is what is most important to note about Armageddon.  And so, in a possibly life-threatening situation of any kind, if transformation is to be won, it must be won by a higher version of the self than the one who arrived at the difficulty -- by the Christ within.  Higher means, in vibration, in frequency.  The Powerful, Loving, Joyous Lighted Self must show up and take charge. What She knows, goes.  Anything less than that won't be enough.

Always in battling darkness, the question is one of self capacity to endure.  Is the darkness stronger than me?  ( Did I actually agree to this in order to find out?)   Theoretically, we already know that the question is a trick.     Of course the darkness is stronger than me.  But not stronger than my Lighted Self, me as God, the Christ in me who overcame the world.

Back in my early 30's I had a big dream, a life dream.  In it, I faced ultimate evil incarnate, and in that life threatening situation I lucidly realized that expressing love to the devil was my only and best means of survival.  I took a deep breath, faced Him, and declared as genuinely as possible, "I love you."  And no sooner had the words left my lips than he was gone, just like the wicked witch.   (Years later, when I first met David Smith and heard about his hug the monster experience in St. Michael's Cave, I knew we shared a connection to something fairly deep, and it made our relationship rich with experience and learning.)

The dream was an easier version of the circumstance I now find myself in.  Easier because I had a clear target with the Devil... the place to focus my energy couldn't have been more obvious. Still took courage, faith and heart.   Emotional healing is far more difficult because the targets keeps moving and changing.  Each time one is identified, another one shows up.  It is exhausting work, and now and then exhilerating.  Two days ago a breakthrough happened, and I was so elated as a part of myself lost to suffering and trauma, re-appeared whole and complete. Everything in me said yes again, and it felt so good, after months and months of no.

Yet the nature of the illness means the good feelings may not last, may be challenged by another monster, may dissuade you of your success.  And so it is two steps forward, one step backward.  Two long phone calls within days of one another.

I never considered myself a warrior in this sense before.  My warrior spirit was always more of cheerleading for the light, for love, joy, and the infinite field of possibilities.  Cheering on and inspiring are things that have always come naturally for me.  The dark rarely found my address or phone number, and if it did, I was likely to not be home, or willing to pick up the phone.  I have never done battle with the darkness as I am called upon now to do -- from the inside.  And yet I know that the power of leverage calls for Love in all of its glory to show up.    Darkness challenges Light.  That's its job.  It makes the Light show up.  I've always known this.

Yet, at the moment its real personal.  And I'm digging deep.  My God Self needs to get her superhero cape out of the mothballs now.

As I've been reminding my sister, this is the clap-if-you-believe-in-fairies moment of my life.  That complete healing is possible is beyond question.  That I am committed to that outcome is also beyond question.  Yet there is no map for this journey, not even a kiss on the forehead or a pair of ruby slippers to keep me safe.  What I carry with me on this journey is the knowing that whatever I need is to be found within.  Trusting this to be true, turns out, is the biggest challenge of all.

Armageddon.  Christ Light wins.

A victory worth the battle... and one I look forward to celebrating.

Poppy Party

I was sleeping soundly.   

For as long as I can remember, I have been a happy sleeper.    Is there anything more delicious than a peaceful night of slumber?  Well, perhaps a long nap on a rainy winter day.    Sleep in early spring is very different than autumn or winter.  The ambient energies, the vibrations of the earth, lullabies sung in many voices, stir us to wake rather than lull us to sleep when the spring energies are rising.  It was one such time, sleeping naturally and effortlessly, when I suddenly awoke with a start, to realize I'd actually been in my front yard attending a curious party, hosted by covens of California poppies.    Until this happened, I had no knowledge that I was able to do such a thing. 

My cozy surroundings were still rather new to me and awake or asleep, I was in a perpetual state of delight.  And so it was with a heightened sense of awe that I woke up suddenly to realize my consciousness had been in my new front yard while my body was asleep in my bed. 

I looked at the clock.  Midnight.  The full moon bathed my room with a generous quality of intense gentleness -- high frequency gentleness, if you will, through the extra large skylight over my bed.  Now wide awake, all of my senses were aroused as I replayed the magical experience.  I swear this is the God's truth. I'd been the guest of honor at a party of California poppies, a coven of sheathed, pointy-headed beings who wanted a word with me.

I could still hear their high pitched voices, feel their joy, sense the dewdrops on blades of spring grasses sparkling in the milky glow of the radiant moon. I could hear the hymn-quality ballad of stillness that is a peaceful night in the country, accented by the soft rhythms of a hooting owl and a croaking bullfrog.  Yet I had no map for this new experience that suggested so many other possibilities living in a place, a real and true home, I had named, Blessing.

Tomorrow is our blooming day.  We are so happy.  Our destiny, our purpose, our great joy is in blooming.  Tomorrow is the day.  We wanted you to know.

In this brief expression came news of another world, one that seemed perfectly ordered, divinely inspired, and honestly, like a lot of fun.  The poppy beings in my front yard were tiny, but their presence was unforgettably powerful and I knew I totally and completely loved these jubilant munchkins who could not sleep on the eve of their big day. 

An old farmhouse and 6.7 acres in a sweet valley surrounded by reverently undulating hills and a vast sky were my dream come to life.  It would take a lot of hard work, commitment to a big learning curve, and patience for this dream seed of my heart to fully manifest. I craved freedom for my soul, natural beauty for my heart and simple grace of a life in flow with the natural order of things.. I wanted a sanctuary for spiritual communion, a gathering place for kindreds to feel at home.  I wanted wildflowers and gardens, trees, places to meditate, places to play. 

I didn't even have a lawnmower or a proper shovel.  Years of condo life, silk business suits, and more frequent flyer miles than I could use had preceded this new phase of life.  So I arrived on the lookout for anything that seemed promising in the mostly raw, tired and bored pastureland filled with foxtails, wild oats and gangs of blackbirds.  But here and there, poppies appeared, bright golden-orange poofs of magic to my eye, and so, when I acquired my first lawnmower, I mowed around the poppies, and lovingly sent them a smile as I passed by, encouraging them to multiply, unaware that they could feel me doing so.

Perhaps it was this care that earned me the invitation as their guest of honor that night.  I can't say for sure.  I just know it is among my cherished memories of the decade I have passed waking up at Blessing.  And it set the tone for how I learned to love this place, evolving it and me into my earnest, heart-felt contribution to heaven on earth.

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."   

Bobby - age 7   

Getting Out of Story

I lived most of my life believing that the story was the thing, the way to find success, meaning and purpose in life. Lately there's been a theme in the prompts I'm getting from the Universe: story is a trap.

We are each born into a story, captives of the context we marinate in, and we are not free as spiritual beings until we have learned how to step out of it. This is a simple way of understanding what it means to wake up. We learn to push back on the dominant story....question, question, question.

Many people identify with aspects of the story so intensely that they can't quite imagine life outside and beyond it. Religions are stories. Ideologies are stories. Political parties are stories. Professional sports teams are stories. Surnames are stories. Histories are stories. Whatever we've identified with is a story. Stories are locked into duality so fiercely that questioning them will trigger fear in others as they react to the need to defend the sacredness of their own beliefs.... their church, their team, their patriotism, their ideals. Threats are read as attacks by the sleeping human. The world at war is a world defending its stories. The world at peace is a world imbued with true freedom, where no story takes itself too seriously and the Love of God is the one true thing out of which life experience flows as joy, wisdom, peace, play, delight.

Until we begin to feel the stirring of higher awareness, we don't know why we are ill at ease, don't know why we are uncomfortable within the stories we have identified with. We defend them because we sense an uneasiness that the ground on which we stand may give way if we don't. If what we've believed our entire lives isn't true, then what, in the name of God, is?

Others are born knowing that the story isn't real, and chart their own course learning to dance with the Divine. Yet even this early state of enlightenment does not guarantee a smooth course through life, for whatever stage our awareness embodies, there are more levels, more discoveries, tests and challenges..... nesting dolls within nesting dolls. In our evolutionary experience as sparks of the Divine, we are destined to get it eventually, guaranteed to wake up. Knowing this can be a comfort when the going is especially difficult, and can invoke the necessary courage, support, and deep insight.

It seems to me that the Love that created the Universe never meant us to become trapped by the stories we tell ourselves, but only entertained and lifted up by them to realize we are eternal beings who come from the Source of Love. For this awareness, we must realize we are sleeping. This is nothing the mind can understand. Stepping out of the story can be dangerous, depending upon how entangled we have become. Layer by layer we cast off every not-true and not-me belief and assumption as we patiently, courageously work on waking up.

A friend recently wisely reminded me: humans are feeling beings who also think, and not thinking beings who also feel. This is a major clue to waking up. If we place too much value on our thoughts, the thoughts that weave the story, we miss the signals coming to us from the loving Universe -- feelings, not thoughts, are to be placed first. Feeling gets us to the holy now. Feelings involve our spiritual, intuitive senses. Some feelings are personal telegrams from God, others are felt collectively. Discerning feeling often involves leaps of faith. This is why a loving premise is essential.

"What is the difference between a feeling and emotion?" another friend asked the other day. I later journaled these insights: emotions are stuck feelings, unregistered, unacknowledged, or suppressed; feelings arise in the moment, emotions arise in time, connected to a thought or belief in the subconscious. When feelings arise in the moment and are perceived as negative, the judgement (mind) blocks the flow of truth, and the body holds onto it until consciously released. As life organizes from the inside out, when the body is in illness, one looks for root causes in suppressed feelings and incorrectly held beliefs. Most of this is buried deep within, and we must set out on a search to clear and heal.

Discernment of feelings is therefore, the important role of awareness.

This past summer, I visited a friend who is a shamanic practitioner. I was seeking deeper clues about a health crisis that appeared out of nowhere and has temporarily yet completely upended me and my beautiful life. During my journey I encountered a Fox who had one message for me: "Get out of Story altogether, and come and play with us along the creekbed where there is only the adventure of joy in the radiance of Reality." Love to. That's one smart fox. My awareness of story has been evolving ever since.

I've never had a stitch, a broken bone, or a serious illness to contend with. It is an enormous challenge, this healing I am embracing. I have wondered many times in recent weeks, why we don't have a national/world registry for those who have healed and recovered from physical challenge outside of the mainstream medical worldview that treats physical symptoms. Such a registry would challenge the status quo on way too many levels -- question the stories we tell ourselves about the causes of dis-ease. As I Googled and read, researched and discussed my options, it became clear to me that many, many people have managed to heal using natural means. Yet, unless they are inclined to public speech and writing their story, the value of their experience is not shared, and we don't move forward in our understanding of sickness, health, and healing in body, mind, and spirit. For every story told, we can safely assume there are many more untold.

In this stage of challenge, I search for the stories I am caught in. I pray for guidance. I am learning to push back, learning the power of commanding all false ideas to melt and dissolve into the cosmic soup and release my divine spark from entanglement in duality. I am learning that my natural optimism has woven too many stories.

One of my least favorite stories is the one called the Big Bang. Stories, when true, help us reach an ability to sense, perceive, receive, gifts of spirit and essence, not fixed ideas. Stories, when not true, may inspire fear and false understanding. They can make it difficult to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. They keep us trapped in limitations. After ten years of loving Mother Nature, I no longer believe in the story of the Big Bang. I am confident that we are participants in a Big Bloom... as flowers in God's garden of the miraculous becoming, the inhale and the exhale of eternal galaxies seeded by divine intent. I can feel it.

What we need to know is written in our hearts.