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Chuck's Blog

#693 Chuck’s Place: FATHER

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THE CONCERT

At Carnegie Hall, on a Tuesday night, a full day of work awaits, starting early the next morning. I make the sacrifice, my stepson is singing in Eric Whitacre’s Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings. Paradise Lost is the story of a lost generation of angel children left behind by their dying parents, walled off, without their wings, in a deeply protective structure. Logos is the leader of the now grown up lost children. The Gospel according to John begins: In the beginning was logos (the word), and the word was with God. Logos is the word, the law, the blueprint, the archetype of God, the ultimate father. In Eric Whitacre’s story, Logos frequently imbibes “amber,” some kind of hallucinogen that opens, for him, the channel to his deceased father, who communicates the message that he must protect all the children, at all costs. The decree of the father is to protect, maintain the status quo, keep things unchanging within the highly guarded and protected walled-in structure.

The love of Logos’ life is Exstasis. Exstasis is the Greek root for ecstasy, which literally translates to going outside of the stationary or static walls. Their names, Logos and Exstasis, foreshadow the ultimate conflict between conservative protection and freedom. Exstasis, in her own amber journeys, discovers from her own ethereal mother that her wings are hidden and retrievable, but she must take up the journey and go beyond the walls to visit the Oracle in the sacred temple. The Oracle insists that she face the truth, only the truth, to be guided to her wings. She passes this test and ultimately discovers her wings. However, in her final confrontation with Logos in which he burns her wings, she is killed, as the secure and protective father principle cannot tolerate her flight beyond the known, into potential danger.

A DREAM: The Great Train Robbery

I am at a train station on Long Island, right next to the ocean. In the first half of the dream, dimly recalled, I am part of a well-planned and executed plot to rob a train/railroad station. I recall a knapsack full of bundles of money. The robbery is successful, and involves the use of packs of dynamite, placed in several places around the station, set off just at the moment of getaway.

The consequence of this robbery is the end of this railroad station being included along this train line. A nostalgia sets in, particularly from my father. I join him in a campaign to restore the destroyed station. My father becomes involved in the beautification effort, the landscaping. I, in turn, distinctly recall where the planks and stones from the explosion had landed, which I easily begin to retrieve and restore. The dream ends as a smart detective, who has been tracking my activity, confronts me on the boardwalk about the crime.

I immediately awakened from this dream charged with the energy to record it, as well as contemplate it, with my consciousness still between worlds. I suspended my ego’s judgment about being a criminal and instead asked myself: what was the true nature or meaning of the crime? Not all crimes are criminal. When Prometheus stole fire from the Gods, mankind gained in consciousness. When Adam, at Eve’s urging, bit from the apple of the tree of knowledge, the world advanced in consciousness. In both cases, God’s, the father’s, rules were broken and there were punishments, paradise lost.

To go out alone, without the protection and security of father’s walls is both a reward and a punishment. In my dream, the destruction of the train station was a boon for me, a backpack full of money, a tremendous pick-up of energy. The seers on ancient Mexico devised the practice of recapitulation as a means of freeing oneself of static behaviors, returning that energy to the self for new possibilities. The train line, with its familiar stops and fixed rails, which cannot be deviated from, is the security of known habits and routines in life, the protective walls of the father. After I had committed the crime of breaking the routine, freeing myself from a familiar, well-trodden stop (the train station), I was drawn back to the old familiar place, by father, in the form of nostalgia for the old, known, unchanging stasis; the old way.

Regardless of our formative experiences with our actual fathers, real or imagined, present or absent, supportive or threatening, we are all our own fathers now! Formative experiences with our actual fathers are merely awakenings to this father within, the true father, who will guide and protect us through life. The father within us guards and protects the status quo of our lives: our habits, whether good or bad; our rules for ourselves, however limited or open they may be. The guiding principle of the father is the protection of the family. Inwardly we execute this father function by upholding the familiar safe-place train stops of our daily lives. Familiarity breeds safety and security, a bulwark against the changing sands of time. Zeus’s father, Kronos, Father Time, consumed all his children at birth to ensure the longevity, the unchangingness of his rule, that is, until his clever wife wittingly exchanged a stone for baby Zeus, which ushered in a new era.

Sometimes, of course, the conservativism of the father within us is wise to clip our wings. Daedalus, father of Icarus, constructed for his son wings to fly, made of feathers and wax. He tried desperately to warn his son not to fly too close to the sun. Icarus, so enthralled with his freedom, refused his father’s warning and suffered the inevitable consequence of his inflation, a perilous fall. Obviously there is a need for this protective father function, at times, but more often than not the supportive protective arms of our inner father attitude is just as likely to keep us entombed, limited within the safe walls of our familiar selves, however dysfunctional that might be.

Father is the guardian of the familiar: our inner family of known habits, behaviors and attitudes. The true challenge of my dream was to let go of a tried and true habit, to eliminate it from the repertoire of the self, to take back the energy spent on it and take up my wings, untethered to the tracks leading to an old station in life. But alas, I succumbed to the reconstruction of the walls of Logos, the protective rule of the father, enticed by the safety of the old familiar way, resulting in paradise lost. Thank God I woke up!

P.S.: As I conceived of this blog today, moving through the experiences of this past week, it never dawned on me that tomorrow is Father’s Day. There was no conscious intent to write on this topic, to highlight Father’s Day. I take that to mean that I was moved in this direction by the collective energy that marks the celebration of that day. In keeping with the intent of what I wrote, I wish you all a Happy Father’s Day! Whether we are male or female, our true father is the powerful father within us all, who exerts a tremendous influence upon the blueprint of our lives. To become fully conscious of the operation of this father principle within us is a worthy exercise for Father’s Day.

If you wish to correspond, please feel free to post a comment below.

Until we meet again,
Chuck

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Dreaming the Eleventh Step—Inner Calm Knowing

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Rely on the self
the inner knowing.

The above was written in the middle of the night of November 3, 2009 when I was dreaming with the women seers of don Juan’s generation. This is what I wrote in my journal upon awakening the next morning: I was in a place of incredibly balanced calm where I totally understood, intuitively, what inner knowing meant. I was tapping into it and thoroughly enjoying the peacefulness of it. It was a struggle to write down what I was feeling, and what I should have written was lost because I took a long time to alert myself to the fact that I should write it down. Instead, I wrote the above, knowing full well that it did not capture the experience I was having nor the greater meaning of it. The feelings I was experiencing encompassed compassion, detachment, balance, utter calm and complete knowing — a total knowing with access to all knowledge, including the state I was in at the moment. I was able to stay in that state of utterness, of knowing with access to greater knowledge, simply because I could access inner calm. It is a place I want to stay in. It appears to be quite accessible, and I can get there by intent. Once there, all mysteries dissolve; everything is clearly known. (End of journal entry.)

I had channeled ten elements of a shamanic practice and when I wondered if there would be an eleventh I went into this calm inner world, which I believe was showing me what is achievable if the ten steps of shamanic awareness are practiced. I do not think I could have so easily reached this place of utter calm knowing if I had not learned and thoroughly processed the preceding ten steps. Furthermore, had I not done a pretty thorough recapitulation, I would not have been able to truly take in and assimilate those steps either because, as it turns out, they are all very pragmatic steps of the recapitulation process.

When I began my recapitulation nine years ago, I did not have any steps to follow, per se, but followed my own process as it unfolded, day by day, seeing where my body took me, what triggers arose, what synchronicities, dreams and experiences appeared to guide me, and what came to pull me back into my past. That was the process of recapitulation as I undertook it, guided by Chuck in this world and Jeanne in her world. It lasted for three full years and, in fact, to be truthful, it did not begin with the word recapitulation even being spoken, until I was deeply into the process.

The process unfolded as I learned to flow with it, and, as Chuck began to introduce me to the shamanic world, it became very clear that we were fully immersed in a recapitulation process. I say “we” because, although I alone took the journey, I was fully supported by Chuck and Jeanne, by their knowledge of the shamanic and spiritual experiences I was having. As I allowed myself to go deeper and deeper into experiences from childhood that had been completely blocked the recapitulation took on a life of its own, showing me how to gain access to all parts of myself, spiritual, physical, mental and emotional, through memories, dreams, flashbacks, visions, and experiences in this reality, in the past, and in other worlds.

A thorough recapitulation leads to wholeness, to integration of all aspects of self, and that leads to the place of utter calmness that I experienced in dreaming with the women seers that night. I longed to stay there, but eventually I woke up and had to leave it, but only for the moment. I knew I had that place of calmness inside me. I am never far from it; I just have to go there.

Next week, I will write about the twelfth and final step in developing a shamanic practice that I learning in my dreaming with the women seers.

Until then, keep dreaming, keep setting intent, and keep recapitulating!
Love,
Jan

NOTE: The day after I had this experience I posed a question to Jeanne in the channeling blog regarding it, which I link to here. She, in turn, offered the first of three steps in learning detachment, in an evolutionary sense.

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Take Action

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Take action knowing that it is your move.
No one else is present in your life to take action or move for you.
Everything depends on you.
Do not look to others to resolve your dilemmas.
Your life is totally up to you and your actions.
Take action.

This is the tenth step in learning a shamanic practice, a practice that is pragmatic and helpful in learning to evolve, to keep going, to grow and to change, but also to learn to live in more than just this fixed and rational reality. I wrote the above in the middle of the night of November 2, 2009, after intending again to connect and dream with the women of don Juan’s generation of seers.

A shamanic practice revolves around becoming totally responsible for the self, for the past self and the future self, as well as for the self who strives for each moment to be one of awareness. As I have been relaying these shamanic steps in my blog over the past few weeks, I have been struck each week by the relationship each step has to recapitulation, perhaps the most important step, according to the seers, in really electing to change and grow.

In doing recapitulation, in seeking to fully know the self, these steps that I learned from the women seers become more than just pointers, they become a way of life. Until one is in the process of learning about the deeper self these steps may simply come across as good ideas or thoughts that make sense in everyday life, but they blossom into true steps of growth when one begins the process of recapitulation with intent, with unbending intent. It is through experiencing each of these steps, through taking a personal journey into the darkness of the self, that these ideas ultimately make total, practical sense.

A recapitulation can take place through many means. One of them is to simply allow the self to go back into memories, to feel, see and experience them as if reliving them once again and then to go back again and again, going deeper and deeper each time. In looking from a different perspective each time, a personal experience may be revealed as it had actually happened rather than as it had been consciously remembered. When memories are revisited in a state of heightened awareness, new clarity and insight may be gained where before there may have been only vagueness or just a shadowy sense that something was not quite right, or there may have been no memory at all because it was effectively blocked by the psyche.

In memories, painful experiences may be replaced with less offensive stories. Safe or pleasant memories may be construed in order to alleviate the full force of the true and often brutal memories. In essence, selective memories can make us feel safe and okay, though they are not the whole truth. The truth often lies deeply hidden. In my own case, I was nagged by incessant feelings that something was wrong with me, but I was not able to fully access what that meant until I was ready and able to handle it.

Recapitulation, as Chuck mentioned in a recent blog, is a volitional action that happens when we are ready. Somewhere along our journeys, our psyche and our body determine that the time is now and prepares us for the moment. When we are thrown or drawn into recapitulation, some deeper part of us is ready, and it is asking us to shift.

In recapitulation, I did learn that I was totally responsible for everything about myself and that if I did not make a move to help myself then nothing would happen to change me or my life. And as I worked through what that meant, in light of where I was at the time and what I had to remember about my past, it empowered me, diminishing my reliance on others and my reliance on staying stuck in certain familiar modes, repeating the same habits and staying in a world that never changed. Although I considered that world to be rather safe, it was not until I was well into my recapitulation that I discovered that it was, in fact, a world of fear that I kept such control of by retreating, withdrawing and hiding, by making safe choices, so that I did not have to confront anything that made me afraid or uncomfortable. In spite of having lived a very full life in many ways, achieving a measure of success, I still had not resolved the inner dilemmas, of what was wrong with me, of why I felt so powerless and unsafe. What was I really afraid of?

So, I would have to say that I did not feel truly safe in this world until I had done a recapitulation of a world that lay hidden deeply inside me. It was purposely hidden so that I could grow up, maintain sanity, and mature into adulthood. I was protected from it long enough to prepare to return, when the time was right, and look with the eyes of an adult at what had happened to me in my past. In returning, I was afforded the opportunity to learn what it really means to take responsibility for the self, for the cards dealt, for the circumstances of life, and to regain the power that I had lost along the way. It took breaking many vows of silence, many pacts, and it also took facing the darkness within, the stuff that had followed me around for a long, long time, just waiting for me to return and remember what it was all about.

So, in the final lesson to “take action,” the women seers are also suggesting that it is our choice to evolve, to change, and to recapitulate too. We are all afforded many opportunities to practice such steps. We read our books and chant our mantras. We do our yoga and meditate ourselves into calmness, but until we really take action on our own behalf, and face our fears, we are just waiting for something or someone outside of us to change, when it is what is inside us that is asking for change. At least, that has been my experience.

Until next week,
Love,
Jan

Chuck's Blog

#685 Chuck’s Place: Boroughs & Bridges to the Truth

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America eagerly awaits its new Idol: Will it be Crystal; will it be Lee? The Tea Partyers eagerly await the opportunity to “throw the bums out” in the midterm elections. We breathe easier because the solid Admiral of the Coast Guard is overseeing BP. Natural gas companies are seizing the moment; offering the “safe” alternative to oil. After all, they blast 7,000 feet beneath the earth’s surface; how could that possibly effect the drinking water, or the cows pasturing on the farms above? Meanwhile, somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, one mile (5280 feet) beneath the earth, the oil continues to flow, unabated. Fortunately, we are “right on schedule” for a final capping off of the pipe, some time in August. There is evidence now that the oil has caught the current and is showing up on the coast of Florida, the same current that flows up the eastern seaboard. Naturally, specimens are being “properly analyzed” to verify their point of origin. Thank God for science!

From a different perspective, I view this broadening, enveloping nigredo, as black gold, perhaps the real next American Idol; the one we will learn to appreciate the most. The tragedy to the seas, to the habitats of many, including our own, is now threatened at an unstoppable pace. Nature itself has taken over now, demanding that we embrace the truth. It is downright heartbreaking to see the amount of destruction to innocent sea life. The entire food chain will be poisoned as a result of this catastrophe and the impact will be felt by all living things. It is evident that the human race, left to its own devices, refuses to face the truth of its destructive behavior to the planet. I call the nigredo “black gold” because it represents, through the magnitude of its destruction, our path to redemption. It is not just a “good” thing that we check our greed, become humble, and assume responsibility for maintaining balance in this world; it is the only means of survival. It is not about convincing anyone or overpowering resistance. Nature has lost her patience; if we don’t capitulate, we perish.

The water, from which we are all born, which sustains all life, will now poison life, until we face the error of our ways and change our gluttonous attitudes toward the planet. But do not despair! Change is on the horizon. No longer must we sit idly by in powerlessness as the forces of greed dominate the show. Nature is on board now, in a big way. Stay aligned with the truth, your inner truth, and join your intent with this evolutionary process, facing and embracing all our planetary truths, which are, from an energetic perspective, “right on schedule.”

Keeping with the themes of water and nature, I turn now more personal, to dreams from my life around the Isle of Manhattan.

In countless dreams, I am lost in the Bronx searching for the bridge to Manhattan. Eventually, I find the bridge. However, it is generally at various stages of disrepair, or under construction, or being dangerously flooded with enormous waves crashing over it as it sways in the wind. Sometimes, I am lost in Brooklyn, unsure of the direction to Manhattan or which subway to take. Occasionally, the current is calm and I can swim across the river.

My psyche, the self, the spinner of dreams, has chosen New York City, with all of its boroughs and bridges, to show me both the fragmentation within my psyche, the location of untapped resources or possibilities, and the status of my ability to both tap into and integrate them.

Psychic fragmentation is often caused by traumatic experiences where parts of the self are cut off from the mainstream conscious self and forced to exist in unknown isolated islands, like, let’s say, Staten Island. Who even knows anything about Staten Island, or conceives of it as being part of New York City? So forgotten are they, complain Staten Islanders, that they have even considered secession from the union of New York City.

Psychic fragmentation can also be the result of socialization, where unacceptable parts of the self are repressed, never allowed access to conscious life; in the place Jung called the shadow. Perhaps these parts are stored in another borough of New York City, such as in Brooklyn or the Bronx.

Finally, there are parts of the self that have simply yet to emerge, yet to be activated, yet to be discovered in life. These resources may also be stored in the outlying boroughs, perhaps in Queens, a royal borough.

The process of individuation is the challenge to gain access to, to claim and integrate, all the boroughs of the self into a conscious unified whole. Integration requires a network of connections that allow easy access to all the boroughs, hence the significance of the condition of the bridges in my dreams. Psychotherapy is the process of building solid bridges to all parts of the self.

The seers of don Juan’s line introduced the process of recapitulation, of reliving one’s life, in order to reclaim all vital energy lost to prior experiences, or that which is lodged in the outlying boroughs. Furthermore, they introduced learning to shift the assemblage point, what they call our major point of awareness, to different positions within our energetic selves to access the fuller possibilities of our innate potential. Their techniques to create this shift are:

1. recapitulation, where we volitionally shift the assemblage point to a different place of awareness, that of forgotten or repressed aspects of life experiences;

2. dreaming, where the assemblage point loosens as the conscious ego relaxes its hold on our point of awareness;

3. stalking, where we shift the assemblage point through volitionally interrupting our habitual patterns by acting-as-if, or by practicing not-doings; and

4. intent, where we access the power of intent to shift our point of awareness simply through intending it.

Both psychotherapy and the practices of the seers offer tools to individuate and actualize the full potential of the self. But remember, union requires open bridges to all boroughs, access to all parts of the self. It requires truthfulness and clarity, without deception or hidden agendas; no cover-ups or idolizations, no capping off of any parts of the self that are spewing black gold until you get the message and take appropriate action. In order to stand in the fullness of self, we must allow nature itself to take over, inner and outer, integrating it with what we already know about the self. The natural flow of events and consequences in our lives, even the nigredo, are integral to this evolutionary process.

If you wish to correspond, please feel free to post a comment below.

Until we meet again,
Chuck

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Dreaming the Eighth Step

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In Carlos Castaneda’s The Second Ring of Power, la Gorda tells Carlos that she learned everything in dreaming (pp. 159-160). “Everything for a woman warrior starts in dreaming,” she tells him. Having read that, I am not so skeptical about my own experiences in dreaming. Though I have no idea how I was able to dream with the women shamans last fall, my intent was pure, and it worked. Gorda had the same issue. She was unable to tell Carlos exactly how certain things happened, but after years of practice she was finally able to just do them. This may relate to the knowing of the womb that Chuck wrote about a few weeks ago, the direct knowledge that women have access to but men need to work so hard for. I continue to call to the women shamans, or seers, the new term that Chuck introduced in his blog last Saturday and which I too will adopt so we all know we are talking about the same things.

Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don’t when I call to the women seers and ask them to show me something, but I keep trying. The other night I found them again, but failed to write down the important (?) message I was getting. If it really is important I figure I’ll tap into it again sometime, when I am more available. Last night I met them again and, at my request to go to deeper and deeper levels, they took me down into utter blackness where the presence of another entity freaked me out and sent me skittering right back up to consciousness. When I told Chuck about this, he said: “Oh, you went into inner silence. That’s where Carol Tiggs took Jeanne at a Tensegrity workshop.” It was not an unfamiliar place, I must say, and I look forward to making another foray into its mysterious realms with a little more awareness. In the meantime, I proceed with writing today about my dreaming adventures from last fall.

Last fall, my consistent efforts to connect with the women seers paid off over a period of a couple of weeks. They do not have features or looks I could describe, because they do not have form; they are more like energetic presences, energy beings that I seem to recognize. Here is the instruction I wrote in my journal during the night of dreaming with the women seers on October 28, 2009: NO ATTACHMENTS! It is the eighth step in developing a practice with the intention of evolving as an energy being.

This is perhaps the biggest of all the steps. It involves detaching from and leaving behind all the stuff that we have spent our lives collecting and bringing to us, everything we consider so important. It involves questioning ourselves about everything we hold dear and asking ourselves, can I leave this behind? Do I really need this? Attachments also relate to things, to people, habits, comforts, family rituals, to needing to be special or important, to wants and desires of the human kind, that yes, are very important up to a certain point and then, when the time is right for us as individuals, we are asked to let them go. Sometimes this does not become apparent until the moment of death, but more often than not we are presented with this challenge much earlier in life. I once heard the Dalai Lama state that, as evolving beings, it is appropriate to spend the first fifty years of life learning how to live in this world and the next fifty learning how to leave it.

The question then becomes, will we? Can we let go of our pasts and all that has kept us caught there? Can we give love and remain utterly detached, not needing or wanting anything in return, just giving? If we can get to this point we will understand detachment, but we will also understand compassion. This eighth step has detachment, compassionate love, and utter simplicity as its goal, without attachment to anything that takes our energy. It is the whole point of recapitulation: to free ourselves of all that has kept us energetically bound and unavailable to pursue our spirit’s intent.

After I had channeled Monday’s message from Jeanne, I sat down to type it up and was bothered by a knocking at the glass door in the room behind me. I finally got up and went to inspect. A fat robin sat on the edge of a chair on the deck looking in at me. As I watched he flew toward the glass, pecking at it, perhaps admiring his bright red breast, his wide wingspan, or perhaps he was fooled by the brilliant blue sky reflected in the window. He fell back after several attempts, but remained on or near the deck throughout the day, occasionally flying and pecking at the window. He returned the next day and we wondered if he was guarding a nesting female nearby. I thought perhaps he was related to the robin at the other end of the deck, who I discovered building a nest in a little Japanese maple tree near my compost pile one day when I went to empty the kitchen scraps. Perhaps he was drawn to the red chairs at this end of the deck, or perhaps he had come to thank me for my silent and calm approach to the nest whenever I went to the compost pile. The mother bird and I have by now established a mutual respect and a desire to go about our business. I approach calmly and she remains alert but still, rather than fly off shrieking as she did in the beginning, trying to draw my attention away from her eggs.

While the robins were building their nest we noticed a phoebe putting her own nest in a very precarious place underneath the deck, also right next to the compost pile, but too close to the ground and too close to danger of water damage, we thought. Sure enough, one morning I found her nest had been attacked by something and two tiny eggs lay smashed on the ground. A third egg teetered on the edge of the badly tipping nest. I wondered if the mother would return to repair the damage and keep going, caring for her one little egg. The next morning the third egg lay smashed and the bulk of the nest lay on the ground. When I picked it up I saw that a strand of my long white hair had been woven into it along with some hair from our dog. I could not believe that mother phoebe would just abandon her nest, but that was exactly what she did. Talk about detachment! She moved on, without a backward glance, to a new nesting place perhaps, leaving the remains of her young to be licked and scraped off the concrete porch under the deck by some creature in the night, nature at its finest, showing us how to detach, how to move on, how to energetically just keep going, keep trying, how to let go and flow.

In another bird event my daughter came home the other night, her hand outstretched, showing us a blue jay skull she had found on the ground, able to identify it by the feathers that lay beside it. Its delicate bones were picked clean and white, its sockets empty, its sharp bill fully intact. In Ted Andrew’s Animal Speak I read that the energy of the robin is about spring and new growth and daring to sing your own song, to stay true to your inner voice. To me this means to keep speaking and writing about my adventures with spirit, to keep dreaming. The phoebe is not represented in his descriptions, but I suspect, as I write above, that it has to do with detachment, at least for this moment in time. The blue jay represents death in this instance, the place we are all headed, but it also, according to Andrews, links heaven and earth. Blue jay energy has the ability to tap into both, the very thing that we humans strive to do as well and what I have been seeking in my dreaming with the women seers. All of these bird totems ask us to be serious about our energy, about how we decide to use it, for what purposes, and to what end. What are we really seeking?

My forays into the world of the women seers are my own quests for understanding energy, seeking to tap into and truly utilize my strengths, daring myself to keep going, no matter what comes out of the darkness to frighten me. I think that is what we are all challenged with. Whether our power is represented outside of us in the kundalini energy of the robin red breast, in the psychic powers of the blue jay, or in the ability to detach, as the phoebe does, and move on without regrets, we must still dare to find those energies inside of us. We must dare to own them, to use them to advance our awareness, gain clarity, and have some pretty cool experiences in the process. Whether we use them in this reality or in dreaming, it does not matter, as long as we just keep going, letting go, and changing.

I have the tiny phoebe nest on a shelf in my studio, the long hair from my own head woven artfully into it, a wisp of it hanging down, reminding me to pay attention to the energy of the robins who guard so diligently in this world, who flow with the energy of this reality as I continue to watch and await the birth of their young. It reminds me as well of the ability of the phoebe to moved on, with no attachments. It reminds me of the death of the blue jay and that, yes, I too will die. When or how, I do not know, but I want to be ready for the moment, learning now what that might mean by exploring as much as I can.

Until next week, keep dreaming and keep going! On a final note, I want to mention that Chuck and Jeanne and I have all written extensively about detachment in the past. If you care to read more about it, simply do a word search in the search button in the upper left corner of the sidebar and see what comes up. The books mentioned are in our Store and many of the shamanic terms are described in Tools & Definitions.

Love,
Jan