Tag Archives: recapitulation

A Day in a Life: The Yellow Jacket & Me

April 18, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

I am a human being. How am I going to use my gift of consciousness today? Am I awake? Am I aware? Am I advancing myself and my world in some way, small or large? These are the things I ask myself this morning as I awaken before dawn. I’m tired, I don’t really want to get up yet, but I do. I go about my morning routine and before long the sun has risen and I am full of energy. Something has shifted.

Photo by Jan — Nature being nature...but not at my front door!

I go to the front door and peer into the overhead recessed light, looking for my tiny petty tyrant, the yellow jacket that has been pestering me lately, for days invading our entryway. I am determined that he will not nest there. And so I have become his petty tyrant as well. He is not where I last saw him. I wonder if perhaps I’ve finally out-pestered him.

I see him and his comrades stealing tiny wood fibers from the latticework on the back deck. They scrape tiny filaments off the top frame of the structure and fly to their chosen nesting spots. My yellow jacket flies around to the front yard and right up to the front door. By the time I notice him, he has constructed a tiny nest; a cluster of four or five honeycombs dangles from inside the doorway. When he leaves I knock his nest down.

“Sorry, but you can’t be here,” I tell him. He comes back. Persistent, he begins to build his nest again in the very same spot.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here!” He flies away and, again, I knock the nest down.

I don’t want to harm the insect, yet I don’t appreciate his abode of choice and so this process between us goes on for a few days. Yesterday, after I had knocked the nest down for the billionth time it seemed, he went away and didn’t come back. Or at least that was what I perceived because he didn’t come buzzing angrily at me every time I stepped out the front door, letting me know how disappointed he was at my presence in his life. But then I noticed that I had been tricked! The persistent little devil had only moved a few feet, into the recessed light fixture right above my head.

“Okay, you little trickster,” I said, “I’ll get you yet!” And so I waited until evening, when I knew he would be sluggish. Just as it was getting dark, I asked Chuck to reach up and knock down the tiny nest—this time with the yellow jacket nestled inside it—a little too high for me to reach. Now I’m not a fan of messing with the wasps and bees of this world, so I stepped back inside and let the fearless man in my life take this turn at delivering the message to my nemesis that I just didn’t want him around.

“It’s okay, he’s on the ground,” Chuck called to me a few seconds later. We left him there to struggle and I turned the porch light on, hoping that the heat of the bulb would deter him from settling back into the housing of the light fixture. And so this morning, at first glance, I was pleased to see that he was not there. Does this mean our process as each other’s petty tyrant is over?

I ponder the role of the petty tyrant, always ready to point out something to us. This little guy makes me face the fact that I do not like tiny stinging insects, but, even more than that, he lets me know how some tiny, pesky little thing can blow up into a major battle and soon take over. A good amount of time and energy went into the recent battle between the yellow jacket and me. I tracked him as much as he tracked me. Was it really necessary? Well, yes, I think it was. There was something I had to recapitulate.

The wasp making a nest by my front door reminded me of the two wasp nests that flanked the back door of my childhood home when I was about seven years old. My parents, rarely attentive to such things, had let the wasps take over and two large nests were in full operation on the day that I rushed up to the door a little too fast for the likes of the wasps. As soon as my hand touched the handle to pull open the screen door I was dive-bombed and stung by two wasps simultaneously, on either side of my forehead. Within seconds I had two very painful egg-sized lumps forming high on my temples. Not only did I look ridiculous with my Frankenstein forehead, but I was in agony! In addition, I was furious with my parents. How could they let such a thing happen to me! How could they not have noticed those nests!

I had been dodging the wasps for weeks. Once aware of their presence, I began using the front door, but for some reason on that day I had forgotten! I was in such a hurry that all caution went to the wind and I sailed right up to the door in total forgetfulness.

One evening, a few days later, my father donned his bee-removing gear—a large hat covered in netting that tied under the chin and big leather gloves—and climbed onto a ladder and pried both nests from their perches on either side of the back door. I stood far back in the yard and watched him do this. Now he was my hero, just as Chuck was last night, but at the same time I never forgot the experience. My seven-year-old self has been wary of the painful stingers of those tiny flying tyrants ever since.

Now, in full consciousness, I confront my flying petty tyrants again, this time in an inner process, for I know that I must use what nature brings me for personal growth. I will not allow occupation of my entryway by petty tyrants, I conclude. I will not be controlled by outside forces. I want free access to my outer world and my inner world. I guard and protect my ability to flow freely.

Beyond the front door I accept that I have little control over what happens in my yard. Even as I write this, I look out the window and see that the robins have flipped the hose I’ve tucked into the mulch around a newly planted peach tree and are now bathing in its spray. I laugh at those petty tyrants.

I’m not really annoyed by the robins as much as I am by the wasps, and I have to ask myself why. They are all just being nature, doing what they naturally do, but, as I said, I want free access to that which is mine, and so I will not tolerate the pesky yellow jacket so up close and personal.

I pause in my writing and go outside and right the hose, making sure there is a nice puddle of water for the robins to work with. I know they just want it for nest making, for I’ve seen them working as diligently as I’ve seen the yellow jackets scraping the latticework on the deck. For the past few days, I’ve watched the robins dragging nesting material through the mud before flying off with it dripping from their beaks.

The robins and the wasps are nature being nature and I am part of nature too, but a certain degree of consciousness was awakened on the day I was stung by the wasps at the age of seven. I remember thinking that I had gotten through my whole life, until that day, and never been stung by a bee. I knew that it was a momentous occasion, that it was a rite of passage. Now I had been stung and I was no longer the same person. I had experienced something that could never be undone and I could no longer brag that a bee had never stung me. As I experienced the pain of the stings, I was jolted into full body consciousness, leading to awareness of inner transformation.

It was a big moment for my seven-year-old self. I have continued to use the lessons I learned that day. I have never let a wasp build a nest by my entryway. Keeping watch over my doorways became one way I maintained control in a world where we often have very little control. And to this day I still do it, because I know that my child self was right that day, that you don’t let things get so out of hand that they injure you and cause you pain. But I also allowed the stingers in my forehead to awaken me to an awareness of my inner world. I knew that a transformation, an awakening, happened that day as I experienced that jolt of pain.

It took me a long time to really fathom those lessons, and a whole lot of years of pain and suffering had to ensue before I figured out how to use the consciousness raising that occurred that day. I carried the lessons deeply inside though, and have since put them to good use many times, always aware now to not let things get so bad that I am overwhelmed and, in addition, to look for the transformative lesson that is always being presented.

Consciousness, as Chuck wrote about in his last blog, is our unique gift from nature. As I contemplate that yellow jacket, I am aware that we often undertake life with the same repetitive persistence. We continue to do the same things over and over again in spite of the consequences. Our habits control us, until we wake up to the fact that they have been stinging us on the head for a very long time, alerting us to wake up and stay awake. It’s time to act differently, they tell us. It’s time to change. We are no different from the wasps and the robins if we don’t use our most unique gift of consciousness to change.

Nature instructs. Are we awake?

Still watching that entryway, and wishing everyone a transformational week,

Jan

Chuck's Blog

Chuck’s Place: An Awesome Experiment

April 13, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

We are beings in the process of becoming. Our families, through socialization, help us to mold our first containers to hold and manage the prima materia, the innocence from which we are all created. This human mold becomes our identity, our sense of self—a being with continuity—a being we can wake up to in the morning who resembles the being we were when we went to sleep, what psychology calls an ego self.

The truth is, however, that what we are molded into says very little about who we really are, or who we will become. In truth, it’s just a working model, quite universal actually, a mold used and reused billions of times in forming the human race. That mold is the birthplace of our consciousness, our first bicycle, precious for a time but hardly a tool of navigation for an entire lifetime. In truth, consciousness must grow and become increasingly aware of its full nature to remain an effective navigational tool.

It was nature that decided to become conscious in the first place and we human beings are just that: nature that decided to become conscious. Our container, or ego self, is nature’s organ of consciousness. Our fledgling ego self, though, knows nothing of its true nature; it knows nothing of its true parents, nature itself. Our young ego self is an orphan child, separated at birth from its true parents and thrust into a mold that is supposed to know everything about navigating life, yet is so lacking in nature’s true knowledge.

Face it, consciousness enters life seriously stuck behind the eight ball, so different from its natural parents—the deep unconscious of nature—yet expected to have all the answers. The ego self, separated from its roots, has no answers and so little experience, yet is supposed to figure it all out for itself. All it has to work with are the rules, the laws, handed down through its socialized container’s book of rules. Those rules might be helpful in the beginning, but they are not the products of conscious experience and, underneath it all, we, as conscious beings, are deeply insecure beings; all of us nature’s orphans.

And yet, at the same time, we are nature itself, nature’s most evolved experiment! Nature intended to take life in a new direction when it created the human, to not remain bound to its old, redundant patterns. Consciousness was born, conceived to herald in this change that evolved into the human being. What nature didn’t bargain for was that consciousness in the human ego container would become a renegade ship, a child overwhelmed by its power and ability to create, hoard, dominate and destroy. It’s the renegade stewardship of ego consciousness that’s brought us to where we now find ourselves: perched on the brink of destruction, with our true parents, nature, attempting to reign in this runaway ship before it’s too late.

What nature really seeks of us is that we take its prima materia, all the stuff of what we truly are, of what is, and find new expression for all of it in the living out of our lives.

In order to do this we must, of necessity, encounter, in consciousness, all the forces or essences of true nature inherent within all of us. These are the compulsions that come to grip us in fascination, in love, and in terror. These forces rock our containers, beckoning us to face them, own them, and find life for them. How will we fit them into our containers? Do they really belong in our containers, or must we simply acknowledge them and make peace with them? Are we ready to expand our containers, perhaps like the hermit crab that parts ways with its old shell and looks for a new one? Is it time to trade up to a new, expanded, conscious ego self?

The forces of nature within us are varied. Some are radiant and nurturing, others are greedy, vengeful, and deadly. All insist upon some place in our lives. It is the fundamental charge of consciousness to discover these forces of nature, acknowledge the truth of their existence, experience them fully and figure out what to do with them—how to live, balance, express, and evolve them forward.

Consciousness is nature’s evolving organ, it is nature’s grand experiment and its decision making organ, and we are its container. To date, consciousness has largely mismanaged its nature. Collectively and individually we walk the razor’s edge of psychosis, which is nothing other than nature’s way of reasserting its control over a renegade ship and a failed experiment.

On the other hand, nature is completely supportive of its offspring, if that offspring is willing to squarely face the full truth of all that it is. This requires recapitulation—the process of learning to release ourselves from the containment of old, those limited containers of self, as we discover and integrate the fullness of our true natures. This also requires a willingness, on our parts, to take our full natures into the adventures of uncharted waters, within ourselves and in the world without. This is nature’s imperative at this moment in time—to keep evolving into new possibilities, but now responsibly, in full consciousness!

An awesome experiment indeed!

Part of the experiment,

Chuck

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: After Recapitulation

April 11, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

“After recapitulating there is only NOW,” as Taisha Abelar was quoted as saying in a lecture.* I see this as being present in the moment, with no need to go back. No old and powerful fears or horrors exist in the shadows of the psyche. With the deeper unknowns of the self revealed and resolved there is no unfinished business. No questions remain. They have all been answered.

Photo by Chuck — We are all composed of light and shadow selves...

Being present NOW, means that should fears arise, they are recognized simply as signals to experience something deeper about the self. We notice that they no longer hold as much power as they once did because we have taken their energy from them, reclaimed it for ourselves, and are using it differently now. Rather than getting caught up in fear as a paralyzing entity we now face it as a curiosity, deal with it quickly and succinctly, seeing it clearly for what it is.

After recapitulation, fears become gentle reminders that we must keep ourselves in good balance, spirit self and human self in balance. We must be vigilant and attentive to our onward journey, which means we must always do inner work while we continue to navigate through life. As we constantly attend to our fears, we anchor deeper in who we really are NOW. In realigning with the fully known self, we are ready to continue on into the next moment without attachment.

That’s the other thing that becomes clearer after recapitulation, what it means to be without attachment. Attachments signal that we are out of balance, needy, desiring of things of this world, but in reality our spirit knows otherwise. When we are in balance the voice of our spirit is clearer, our neediness and desires lose their powers, and we are free to be present in the moment, experiencing NOW.

After recapitulation the world is still inviting. We are still presented with the constant invitation to live and experience life to the fullest. But being present NOW means that we have honed our awareness to be more fully open to life and where it takes us than ever before. Awareness keeps us alert, making sure that we navigate life in a new way, conducive to our new self. We are available in a different, mature way. With our spirit carefully guiding us, our path of heart revealed and embraced, we are eager for new experiences in life. Yet even as we flow, we are equally ready to stop and investigate ourselves, closely and deeply, for we know that this is what we must do to make the right choices, to take right action, to remain in alignment, and to keep growing and changing.

There is always the opportunity to do deep inner work. It is what we are all challenged with, whether we plan for it or not, and our spirits will not let us rest until we take up that challenge. How often have we heard of someone being restless though they appear to have everything that they could possibly need for a happy life? How often do we know we should be happy, yet we just cannot settle where we are? Why are we always so miserable, so angry, so scared, feeling so hopeless and worthless? Why do we still feel so restless when we are so accomplished, so successful, living such perfect lives?

Once we ask our spirit to take over, we realize there is no other route to true, honest fulfillment than the path our spirit will lead us along. We might even discover that we are already on the path of our spirit, that we have been on it all along, but for some reason we have been reluctant, caught in habitual behaviors, unaware, or just too angry and bitter to see it clearly. Most likely we have been ignorant of our spirit’s true intent, for in reality its intent will not be revealed until we have aligned with it.

In challenging ourselves to take the inner journey, we set a precedence. It takes work, but once the most pressing aspects of the recapitulation journey are faced our fears diminish, our balanced self releases to live more fully in the moment, experiencing the energy of NOW, and the world changes; it greets us differently each day. Different ourselves, we wake up one morning and discover that the world has changed with us. Isn’t that what we all want and need, a changed self and a changed world?

After recapitulation the changed world keeps changing, every day, because there is only NOW, and each moment is new. That changed world begins within.

Taking the inner journey, humbly offering encouragement to take it too, for it leads to truth and love,

Jan

*Note: From a lecture in Pasadena, October 10, 1992, as reported in The Nagualist.

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: The Evolving Self In Recapitulation

April 4, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

So, as I wrote about last week in Self in Recapitulation, what eventually occurs as the recapitulation journey is taken is that the old self breaks down and a new self begins to form. As this new self grows stronger and more present it becomes clear that old defenses, once so important and necessary, just don’t cut it anymore. The world, we discover, does not have to function as it once did because we don’t need it to. We realize that it’s safe to change and we find that in changing ourselves the changing world finds us quite likable and acceptable in return, greeting us with open arms.

Through deep self-exploration and with self in containment—adult self in balance with inner child self, ensconced in a supportive environment—this change occurs over time, naturally, in a process that we can handle. As we take the recapitulation journey, for as long as it takes, we begin to experience a new, expanded self. In bits and pieces or in leaps and bounds this new self presents itself to us in a myriad of ways, in deeply personal inner changes, in our dream work, in our relationships, and in how we handle the vicissitudes of life itself as we make our way in the outer world. Eventually we may discover that this totally new self is someone we never even imagined we could be.

Even while we are deeply entrenched in our recapitulation process we are offered glimpses of what it will mean to become whole and fully present in this world. We are constantly offered moments of magic and awe. If we can accept them purely as such, as instances of a fully present self projected forward, perhaps months or years ahead, we grasp the deeper meaning of change, of what it will mean to finally attain a new self. We grasp what it will mean to assimilate our fragmented self, to integrate all our parts and become whole.

Recapitulation takes work. The first work is in finding an adult self we can work with, within the context of who we are at the moment. We all have a mature adult self inside us somewhere. We all grew up, went to school, got jobs, perhaps became parents ourselves, took on responsibilities of one sort or another. We all have access to a parent self, constructed from what we grew up with perhaps, as I wrote about last week as well. This parent self, no matter where it comes from and how domineering or shaky it may be, is where we start.

Then, as our recapitulation process unfolds, we confront that parent self over and over again, questioning its choices and actions, finding out what they are based on, questioning who is really in control and why. We might find that we don’t really like that parent self, nor do we adhere to its belief system, to its fears, or its needs. We might find that it doesn’t belong to us at all, and then the real work begins as we explore who we truly are as our own separate and unique being.

As we allow ourselves to leave the old world and the old parents behind, acknowledging them for having gotten us this far, we take over our own lives. We become fully responsible, knowing that we alone are enough.

There came a point in my own recapitulation when I knew this, that I was indeed all I needed to navigate life, that I was all I needed to be balanced and whole, to be contented, fully responsible, fully present and fully alive. And that was the point when I learned what it meant to love myself, for being who I am, for my daring, adventuresome, strong, and capable self. And then I learned that there was even something more important than self.

Finally freed of old ideas of self, I was then ready to learn what it meant to love another human being, intimately and purely. And in allowing myself to be loved in return, I learned the meaning of universal love, of giving without needing anything at all in return, simply because love is always available to give. I learned how to simply be.

In taking over responsibility for our own journeys and moving forward into life in our own unique way, we have the opportunity to live differently—always—abiding by a new set of proven principles, our own, firmly and forever in alignment with our spirit. We may make some mistakes, even some of the same ones that we’ve made before, and we may have to recapitulate quite a bit of old stuff, but with those moments of magic and awe leading us onward we just keep going, knowing that the world we grew up in was just one aspect of our lives and it does not define who we truly are.

By taking up the challenge of our recapitulation in a mature manner, by answering the call to do deep inner work in full awareness of its many challenges, we allow ourselves to change ourselves and our world. In giving ourselves permission to face, dismantle, and pore over the pieces of our old selves, we move on into new and different life, evolving life, taking with us only that which truly works for us.

In alignment with our spirit’s intent, now with our truths in hand, we find ourselves on a new mission, eager to learn more about life, why we are here and where we are going. Now we know the real value of recapitulation, because we are living it. We are living life more fully, without fear, the world greeting us each new day without fear in return.

Each day I learn something new. I learn the lessons I personally need to learn. I learn that we are all students and teachers, parents and children, selfish and selfless, lover and loved alike. Every day, I ask the universe to enlighten me a little bit more, to help me as I continue my journey.

Show me my failings so that I can confront them, I ask. Show me my beauties so I can enhance them. Show me my goodness so I can share it. Show me my magic so I can evolve. Lead me on my journey so I can be of service. Thank you for teaching me to be humble, selfless, and kind.

May we all take our journeys without fear, always open to the path that unfolds before us. May we stop running and hiding long enough to take a breath of something new, aware that one fresh idea is all we may need to begin a new life.

Most humbly offered,

Jan

Chuck's Blog

Chuck’s Place: Freedom & Limitation

March 30, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

The energetic theme this week has been pervasive: a meeting of the opposites of freedom and limitation. Seeking an objective energy reading I turned to the I Ching, only to be presented, synchronistically (DUH!) with the Hexagram of Limitation, #60. The I Ching itself has always struck me as an oracle that reconciles the opposition of freedom and limitation, with its limited 64 Hexagrams encapsulating infinite possibility.

The Hexagram of Limitation derives its meaning from the juxtaposition of water over a lake. Water is an inexhaustible element, however a lake occupies a fixed, limited space. Rain that fills the lake beyond its banks will be lost to the lake; it can only hold so much. A lake could not exist without the limitation of its fixed banks; they create a container for the inexhaustible resource of water. Without the lake life would diminish and the freedom of nature to birth and expand would be deeply compromised. Within this image freedom and limitation reveal their sibling oneness, their mutual dependence—opposite sides of a creative force.

Our human creative expression is the consequence of this same interplay of opposites. To gather the energy for an enterprise we must limit our activity. To gather the resource for a great undertaking we must limit our expenditures. As Jan’s blog this week suggests, gathering together the disparate parts of the self to allow for ultimate freedom in this life requires suffering the limitation and containment by the adult self, as it undergoes transformation through the process of recapitulation.

Without containment there can be no freedom and no transformation. For example, the dancer who dances with such abandon has suffered a lifetime of painful, regulated practice—containment—encountering, living, and releasing all resistance before reaching such a peak of perfect abandon.

The crowning achievement of conjunctio in alchemy, the realization of the opus—Gold—is achieved through a series of chemical operations that require limitation within a sealed container, or retort, where the disparate elements ultimately congeal and transform into a unified whole. Likewise, only with a unified whole self can complete freedom and fulfillment be realized in this life as well.

Of course, the I Ching, in its infinite wisdom, cautions that galling limitation must not be persevered in. We must place limitation even upon limitation. Thus, to deny the needs or feelings of any part of the self would defeat the goal of full self-realization. All parts must be considered and lived, in some way, in order to realize full freedom in this life.

So, in recapitulation, within the adult self as container, a solution is made in which all parts of the self are given full expression, and the end result is freedom—transformation and fulfillment in this lifetime. Conjunctio—Gold—is achieved.