Tag Archives: recapitulation

A Day in a Life: Rejecting The Chaos

August 15, 2012 Jan 1 Comment

Photo by Chuck — Finding calm retreat...

We gather our books, our notebooks and writing pens, and go into retreat. We leave everything else behind. Perhaps we take a cup of tea, a jug of water, an apple or two, but little else. We leave the phones, laptops, all forms of communication with the outside world, and disappear. No one knows where we are. For the time we’ve allotted ourselves, we are free.

We sit amongst the catbirds, quietly conversing or silently reading. We meditate, or perhaps even doze in our chairs. A doe and her two fawns come out of the woods and walk past. We are so invisible in our intent to retreat that they take no notice of us. We are present yet not present.

We reject all attachments, including the needs of those closest to us. On another day of retreat we sit in our canoe on calm waters. We drift, going nowhere. We let the world rumble by, all its troubles and turmoils, all its fears and desires, all its crisis and calamities. We are free.

We know what awaits us upon return to the reality of our world, yet we allow ourselves to turn from it as often as possible. In this manner we offer ourselves balance, we create a container in which to nurture our spirits. We offer ourselves sacred space in the midst of everyday life. We lift the veil of one world and enter another, rejecting the chaos that constantly seeks attachment. In the simplest of ways, at little or no cost, we seek retreat as often as possible.

Perhaps we take a walk at dawn, or at midnight. Perhaps we go to a movie. Perhaps we sit on our deck as the sun rises. Perhaps we build a fire and watch its sparks light the night. Perhaps we take a friend out to dinner and sit in a calm garden cafe. Perhaps we take a yoga class, or hike along a new path. All of these things offer retreat from the energy of the world constantly stirring around us.

Part of going into retreat, part of disappearing for a few hours or a few days, requires careful planning. It requires honing detachment by setting limits on the self and the outside world. It requires that we reject the chaos. It requires that we leave everything behind that might interrupt our retreat, anything that might interfere with our solitude. Often enough it requires leaving behind worry and fear, leaving behind the thoughts and ideas that we are needed, that we are important, that the world might collapse if we are not available every minute of every day to those who need us, want us, rely on us for whatever reasons. Going into retreat requires honing nerves of steel while simultaneously extending a tenderness toward the self that we might not ordinarily feel. Foremost, going into retreat requires rejection of all outside energy.

In turning inward, in going into retreat, in rejecting the chaos of everyday life, we learn how to care for ourselves. We learn how to detach from the critics, whether outside of us or inside. We learn how to suspend judgment: what others might think of us, what we might think of us, how the world judges us every day.

In successful retreat, we achieve calmness and contentedness. Our minds slow down; our hearts slow down. We become better givers, lovers, kinder more gentler people, because we give to ourselves, love ourselves, are kind to ourselves. In desiring to be giving beings we must first learn how to give to ourselves. In desiring to become more compassionate beings we must first experience what that means, and the best way is to practice compassion toward ourselves. In desiring to be loved, we must first learn how to love ourselves.

If we are in the midst of painful recapitulation we have already learned how to leave the world behind, for we do it every time we go into a memory. We know how to retreat, but it’s vastly important that we give ourselves sacred space for healing retreat during recapitulation too. In small increments we must learn how to care for ourselves, even though we are not used to caring about ourselves at all.

Recapitulation is really a time of retraining our minds and bodies, of reawakening our spirits, and remaking ourselves into a different being altogether. It’s a time of rephrasing how we think and speak, recreating our life styles and agendas to fit the changing beings we are in the process of sculpting. And so, even when deep into painful recapitulation—especially when one is in deep painful recapitulation—one must take responsibility for occasionally pulling out of the chaos and advancing the healing process. By finding some means of rejecting the chaos—however captivating it may be—one establishes balance.

Keeping in mind that the intent of recapitulation is to heal, the balance comes in learning healing activities and skills, and actually practicing them. Nothing will change if one does not act on what one is learning during recapitulation. This entails regularly stepping back from the intensity of the process and assessing the progress made. This entails reevaluating the self, appreciating the self in a new way, actually rewarding the self for the difficult work that has been accomplished. This entails reframing the state of one’s mind by offering it positive accolades as one rejects the old negative thought language. This entails learning how to be gentle, kind, and compassionate with the self, and eventually learning how to love the self.

Although recapitulation is an ongoing process of change, there will always be times when it is appropriate to reject the chaos of recapitulation—even if only for a few minutes at a time. In such moments of respite—think calm retreat—one builds stamina and regains balance that may have been lost during intense memory recapitulations. One learns how to detach from energetic attachments, nurturing one’s own reclaimed energy in the process, experiencing small doses of freedom along with a newly unfolding self.

A young woman told us of losing her phone and how free she felt. Sitting in a circle of friends, she noticed how everyone had their head down, looking at their phones, texting, reading, only peripherally attached to the conversation of the group. In that moment she clearly understood the addiction that she normally carried in her own pocket, the addiction to constantly needing to be in touch, to not missing something, to having everything at her fingertips. In that moment she saw her friends as slaves and she experienced her own freedom. Forced to break her own habit, she experienced a sense of relief, for a moment glad she had lost her phone. For a moment she basked in her own place of calm retreat.

No matter who we are, where we are in our lives, no matter what is happening, we must learn to take moments of retreat. We must learn how to reject the chaos, turn from our addiction to the chaos of life, and take responsibility for our spirits needs for calmness and balance. We must learn to nurture ourselves. It’s not that hard to do.

Love to you all, as you find calm retreat today.

Rejecting the chaos,
Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Fermentation

August 8, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

For the past several months I have been studying the art of fermentation, an ancient process of preserving and transforming fresh raw food for later use. Most cultures around the world have some form of traditional fermented delicacy, whether eaten daily or looked forward to on special occasions. Even we Americans eat fermented foods all the time. Yogurt, cheese, sauerkraut, pickles, sourdough breads, tofu and tamari, as well as wines and beers, are all made using a fermentation process that involves containment in an environment that is conducive to growth. Containment is key if new growth is to be achieved.

Chuck and I recently discussed the nature of the times we are living in. The whistle blowers have been telling the truths for decades and longer, telling us over and over again that we are destroying the planet, that we are poisoning our bodies, our food, our environment. But have we heeded their calls? No. And that brings us to the truth of where we are now. The world as we know it has reached a point of no return. There is no way that we will ever have what we once had. We humans, by our greed and negligence, have forever changed the life of our planet. This is clear. It is also clear to me that we can no longer look to others to do the right thing. We have been waiting for someone with means and power to wake up and carry us forward, but in spite of some fierce arguments and efforts, nothing is happening in the world outside of us. And so, the way I see it, it’s time to stop looking outwardly for transformation and go inward, which brings me to the subject of fermentation.

The practice of inner work, changing the self in a deep way in order to evolve the world outside of the self, has never been more crucial than now. In containment, we offer ourselves the opportunity to transform. The process of fermentation offers insight into this process of self-preservation and transformation in a very practical and methodical way, resulting in healthy life-giving sustenance and the opportunity for new life.

I gather cucumbers from the garden, wash them thoroughly, put them into a container, add garlic, dill, and peppercorns, and pour a solution of brine—water and sea salt—over them until the entire pot is filled. Adding a weight to keep the raw foods totally submerged, contained within the transformative solution, I cover the container with a cloth, allowing just the right amount of air to enter and begin the process of fermentation. And then I watch and wait. I must be patient, but it doesn’t take long before I see activity. Within a few hours bubbles begin to form and the fermentation process is under way. The next time I look I see that it is percolating nicely.

There is continuous activity within the container. How could it be otherwise? The temperature is right, the ingredients are right, and the solution is right, but the key is that all of these things are being contained—offered the opportunity to transform—single ingredients that by themselves are just that, lonely vegetables. I am looking for something new to emerge out of this process. I want my vegetables, the beautiful bounty of all my hard work, to evolve into something different, something lasting and delicious. Is this not the same thing we all want in our lives, our souls to transform into something everlastingly enticing?

Each day I must tend to my pots, skimming off what rises to the surface, accepting it for what it is, bacteria that has risen and become exposed to air, showing me that the process is functioning as perfectly as I intended. What is happening under the surface is that good bacteria are forming; the lactobacilli that we all know are so beneficial to our body’s health and immune systems. Transformative activity is taking place within my containers.

In the fermentation pot, all that is good and all that is bad go to work on each other. Forced containment means that one will win out over the other. In a balanced environment, with the right ingredients, the good bacteria take over and eat the bad bacteria. During the battle some bacteria rises to the surface and this is what I skim off. But I know that underneath, my intention to transform raw ingredients is well underway.

If we apply this process to the inner process of personal change, the same thing will happen. As we sit in containment, with the right ingredients of spirit and intent, and submerge ourselves in a transformative process, we will begin to see changes. Before long the real truths of the self, the good bacteria, awaken and overpower the untruths, the bad bacteria. That which we once valued and held onto but no longer find life-giving is allowed to release, perhaps thoughts, ideas, and lies that have held us in captivity, exposed for what they truly are. Once skimmed from our conscious awareness, we are free to return to our container, now filling up with good bacteria—new ideas, thoughts, and truths about ourselves—and before long we discover that something has happened to us on a very deep level; we are different. Without the old bad bacteria infecting our souls we now have the opportunity for the good bacteria to multiply and transform us into new healthy beings.

In allowing ourselves to be contained, in taking back our outer projections and need for others to fulfill our deepest needs and desires, we offer ourselves the opportunity for self-nurturance and self-love to blossom—the good bacteria that changes the very fibers of our beings—just as the raw vegetables change within the good fermentation solution.

Recapitulation is the process of fermentation, an intentional journey of change. We must remember that we are beings who already contain all the right ingredients. And the solution is the decision to turn inward and let them percolate. In containment we allow the ingredients that are our deepest selves to sit in the solution that is our intent to change, where they lie submerged, fermenting and changing. Eventually they will reemerge in new form.

It’s not that hard to get started—remember all the ingredients lie within—but it does take patience and fortitude to stay with the process, to stay contained while we go through the transformation that our spirits seek. Checking in each day, as we wrestle with our demons and our bad bacteria, we must remain aware that everything that arises, all the struggles for truth and good bacteria, are necessary parts of the process. I also know that if I open my pots too early I will not get the results I desire. And so I taste the ferment throughout the process, checking that it’s working right, that it smells good, but I know that I must be patient if I am to get what I desire. And so I turn everything back into the solution again, weigh it down, cover it over, and wait. When it’s done to my liking, I’ll know, because it will taste exactly right! Just as I know that my inner process has done its work, because I always feel exactly like the real me when I’m done!

Our inner work is always waiting for our inner process of transformation to begin. Though it may be too late for our planet, it’s never too late for that! We just have to turn inward and let the fermentation begin!

Thanks for reading, and good luck as you take the inward journey,
Jan

Chuck's Blog

Chuck’s Place: Beyond The Movie

July 27, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

“I’m not a schemer. I try to show the schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are,” says the Joker in the hospital scene of The Dark Knight, 2008.

James Holmes dyed his hair orange, became the Joker, and in REAL LIFE—at the midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises in Aurora, Colorado—unleashed a fatal assault upon an unsuspecting movie audience.

The Joker is a Trickster. The trickster is a force of nature, an agent of chaos with no attachment to the material world. The trickster’s objective is to disrupt the prevailing order, to break the rules with abandon. The trickster’s pranks may indeed result in tragedy, as evidenced in the horrific Aurora massacre, but they may also reveal truths and weaknesses that if faced squarely might lead to needed transformation and change.

Evolving human consciousness has relied upon spiritual institutions to mediate between its rational, civilized, ordered ego self and the powerful, chaotic energies of the instinctive self. Religious ritual has traditionally offered sacrifice to the instincts in exchange for energy needed to fund the structured, ordered objectives of the ego self in the modern world. In our time, similar to the crumbling of the absolute power of the Catholic Church during the Protestant Revolution, the reigning churches of the day have lost their ability to serve this mediating function.

In fact, modern humanity has become so rational that it has disowned its animal core, and religious affiliation or participation has largely become a place of social gathering or identity. The prevailing consciousness views religious institutions as relics of an unenlightened age.

What has largely replaced the mediating function formerly performed in religious ritual, in today’s world, is Hollywood. It’s a throwback to the days of the gladiators in the Coliseum in Rome or the bullfights in Spain. The modern movie theater is the setting where citizens vicariously project their instinctive energies onto the projections on a screen, as these images duke it out in epic battles of good versus evil. Moviegoers experience contact with their deep instinctive energies through powerful emotions that are enlivened and released, with the outcome being inner balance restored when they are safely delivered back to ordinary life as the movie concludes.

The massacre in Aurora instructs us that the sanctuary of the movie house has ended. It can no longer safely contain our psychic forces. The trickster broke through the screen in Aurora, showing us that the movie house can no longer safely mediate between our ego and deeper instinctive selves. The trickster has shown us that the psychic mechanism of PROJECTION—placing the issues and dangers within us outside of us onto some form of screen—can no longer keep us safe. We must grapple with the psyche directly, finding a new balance, a new relationship to the deep instinctive forces that both threaten us and enliven us.

On a global level, this tenuous balance is evident on every front. Global warming, with its consequent natural disasters, shows us the precarious hold humanity’s decision making has over nature’s wrath. Is it really time for another flood? Or will we do better?

Revolutions sprout up almost daily throughout the world as the urge for change and greater freedom press to topple outdated, repressive regimes.

Revolutionary energy is stirring throughout Europe and the United States from the economic underclass, as they balk at giving more while the 1% accumulate more. This is the energetic climate of Germany preceding the outbreak of Nazism.

All these revolutionary stirrings are threatening to disrupt if not submerge the world as we have known it. All are direct reactions to the collective world ego’s actions in relation to its deeper instinctual needs—nature reacting, both within and without.

On an individual personal level, we are all charged to deal with the psychic balance within our own beings, that is: between our conscious ruling selves and our unconscious instinctive selves.

Those in the midst of recapitulation are well aware of the tenuous balance between the psychic energies of their fragmented selves and their conscious selves. These individuals have heeded the trickster’s warning and have set to the inner work of integrating their deeper truths, to open a cooperative partnership with the deep unconscious.

But for those not currently in the throes of recapitulation, the urgency of the trickster’s exploits must be seen as THE CALL to introversion—to the facing of inner truth.

What are the ruling attitudes of my conscious ego? Are those attitudes listening to my inner revolutionaries: my symptoms and fears? What is my relationship to my deeply instinctive self—to safety, to hunger, to sexuality, to power? Am I being honest with myself? What is the true reality of my psychic economy?

We need to take responsibility for bringing our psyches into new and lasting balance, and not allow the collective imbalance that surrounds us to lead us into hopelessness and surrender. To attend to the self is to bring real change to the interconnected world that we are all part of. To place this call to action upon the self is to honor the victims in Aurora for their sacrifice.

May their sacrifice lead to a transformation that ends the need for human sacrifice as a means to needed change.

Reeling in the projection,
Chuck

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Dreaming of Pie Dough & Desert Wind

July 25, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

It’s a bit early to go to bed, but I’m tired. Something’s bothering me and I don’t want to wake up in a few hours with it still on my mind. I don’t want to lie awake for hours, my mind crawling with thoughts, becoming what the shamans call flyer food. Shamans see flyers as entities that feed off human agitation, and thoughts generate agitated energy. As I drift off to sleep, I ask the universe and my dreaming self to take the “bothersome something” from my mind so I can sleep peacefully.

“Please give me something so I can get through the night without disturbance,” I ask.

Immediately, I am standing in a windy desert. I look down and see an aluminum pie plate in the sand at my feet. I put my thoughts into it, in little bits and pieces like rolled bits of pie dough until the pie plate is filled. The wind, already strong, grows stronger now. I watch, as first one and then another bit of pie dough blow away, then another and another, until all the bits of pie dough have blown away. Then the aluminum pie plate blows away too.

“Oh,” I say, “that’s how I’ll do it. I’ll just keep putting bothersome thoughts into the pie plate and let the desert wind blow them away.”

I go into the desert many times throughout the night and each time I do the pie plate is lying at my feet, once again returned for use. Dropping little thought-clumps onto the pie plate I watch them pile up and then watch as they and the pie plate blow away in the wind. Each time I do this, I am aware of the power of intent to create exactly what is needed. I remark to myself in my dream how well it works and how calm and peaceful I feel. In addition, I notice that the contents of the thought-clumps never materialize in my mind, not even for an instant. I am so intently involved in the process of rolling them up and watching them blow away that they never become real. Thus, my mind is totally empty and at peace.

I sleep deeply. When I wake up in the morning I am calm and well rested. I tell Chuck of my nighttime process.

“It really worked, I slept so soundly,” I say. “I was able to not only sleep deeply but my mind was perfectly empty and calm even when the “bothersome something” arose. I just went through the process as it came to me and let the wind take it. It’s really an excellent mindfulness practice.”

Chuck reminded me that I had mentioned to him the other day that Byron Katie spent a lot of time in the desert after her awakening in 1986, listening to her inner stories, letting the winds take her thoughts, thoughts that came out of her, both her own and those that did not really belong to her personally. Although I live far from the desert, the desert winds appeared just when I needed help too. Who knows what else lies waiting to help us, just for the asking.

To be clear, there’s a huge difference between ridding the mind of bothersome everyday thoughts and what goes on when one is engaged in deep recapitulation. As Byron Katie discovered, she had to encounter her own darkness; in order to heal she had to face everything that came up out of her. In contrast, I just didn’t want useless thoughts interfering with my sleep last night. I had no intention of inviting the flyers to a feeding frenzy.

In addition, I had no intention of going back to or revisiting any thoughts that might arise. I sensed them hovering about, waiting to see if they’d find an opening, and set my intent to do exactly the opposite, to not become available. Instead, I encased them in pie dough, letting them know that they were inconsequential thoughts of no significance and I would give them no energy whatsoever. In letting the wind take everything, including the pie plate, nothing was left behind for the flyers to feed off; no crumbs even to lick clean.

We have to accept that thoughts naturally arise, seeking a place to land. In meditation practice, it’s the eternal process of letting go of thoughts that eventually allows us the experience of peaceful mind, as they drift through our mind without attachment. I see the pie plate and wind of my desert dream as a natural meditation tool. Give it a try; it really does work!

It’s even often appropriate to send thoughts away during recapitulation, but we have to be aware that some of the issues we’re trying to push away will return, no matter how far the wind blows them, until we are done with them. This is because the intent of recapitulation is to heal, totally, and total healing takes many forms, painful and blissful alike. However, I could see using the same practice as a recapitulation tool to send interfering thoughts away that are blocking the truth, or for sending away self-defeating thoughts, old scenarios that are no longer true, as well as the voices of others. It may also help in dealing with the onslaughts of messages from the deeper self that we are just not ready to acknowledge yet.

Once we’ve healed, the flyers leave us alone for the most part, and we are free to dream new dreams.

Passing it on,
Jan

Chuck's Blog, Recapitulation

Chuck’s Place: The Mirror Of Recapitulation

July 20, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

Imagine the horror of looking in the mirror and seeing nothing. This is the experience of many young heroes who look to the world for safety, approval, encouragement, and love, only to be met by disapproving, rejecting eyes, or perhaps blank eyes incapable of meeting, or even worse, a wolf’s eyes intent upon feasting. The reaction of this young unwelcomed “me” is stinging shame, a curling inward around a deeply vulnerable full-of-potential self that protectively walls itself off and sinks into the womb of the unconscious. In its stead, the young hero self is charged with bringing life forward, awaiting the call from the deep unconscious to finally come and participate in the birthing of the true golden child when conditions are ripe for it to be born into fulfillment in this life.

The call to the journey of retrieval from the unconscious can come in many forms: a deep depression midway through life’s journey—where the energy to fund the current life has dried up, and the search for new energy to find meaning and fulfillment requires mining the depths of the unconscious to find the missing pieces of self—is a frequent prelude to the journey. Often the emergence of long walled-off traumatic memory may intrude upon consciousness in a dream, a flashback, or in powerful physical symptoms and pain. Often the call is mistaken, concretely, for physical ailment and only once that is ruled out can the real journey begin. Today too, much focus goes to genetic diseases requiring chemical cures, clouding the true meaning of the symptoms: a call to action by the deeper self.

Another complication in undertaking the journey is the veiled hope of rescue, of vindication by some mirroring person in the world to liberate and meet the deeply walled-off self. Though experiencing love can go a long way in healing, to truly be open to the intimacy and vulnerability of real love as adults we must first take the journey of inner liberation to free the unborn self from its illusions regarding love. We must first dismantle the walls of defense erected long ago to protect the golden but shamed self. To go to love without liberation is to invite dependency, fear of loss, and a persistent dark cloud of doubt around worthiness that no other person can ever remove. The search for the liberating other can mesmerize us for decades before we realize that the real needed partner for the journey is the ego self, willing to take the plunge into the darkness and find its lost soulmate, waiting within.

Dismantling the protective walls surrounding the true self is the task of recapitulation. In recapitulation, the present self—forged through years of heroic efforts—becomes the midwife to the golden self. Practically speaking, this means truly suspending judgment and being fully present to the truths of the buried self. These truths may come full of excruciating physical and emotional pain. As the present self meets the eyes of the buried self, it mirrors compassion and total acceptance, encouraging the buried self to reveal its deepest truths with all its emotional intensity. Without collapse, deep shame, rage, hatred, and sorrow are systematically allowed to be fully felt. Gradually, the power of the old feelings to shut down access to the gold is diminished.

As recapitulation progresses, it becomes clear that there is nothing more powerful than the truth of the self and its unborn potential for fulfillment. Driven by its desire for this fulfillment, the ego self welcomes and ultimately merges with its lost self in the truest of loving unions. In this mirror of acceptance, regardless of what is presented, lies the deep validation needed to encourage new life and for transformation to blossom.

With this union, the self is finally freed to open to the outer world and enjoy extraverted love and fulfillment. And now, a glimpse into the mirror reveals only the glowing golden self looking back.

From the heart,
Chuck

Riverwalker Press