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Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: The Energetics Of Intent

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I greet and honor my catalpa tree every morning…

Choices, opportunities, signs and synchronicities intrigue me. What will we do with the information we receive? What choice will we make?

While sitting in meditation, gazing out over the catalpa tree in the back yard—my tree, as I call it, for it has given me such deeply resonant answers to so many moments of indecision—I pondered these questions. I noticed the branches of the tree, some thick and strong, extending heavenward, energetically vibrant, others short and thin, ending in many spiky nodes. Here, I thought, is an example of making choices in life. Do we choose the path of healing energy, the strong and upward path of heart as represented by the stronger branches, or do we choose the shorter route that energetically explodes in many directions as represented by the smaller branches.

We make the choices we make based on where we are in our lives, on our experiences and our desires. But what if we were to make our choices based solely on different messages, those that come from deep within, from our ancient spirit selves supported by what comes from without to guide us?

As many of you know, I elected to take the longer route—after many years of avoiding it—by beginning a shamanic recapitulation. Facing all that lay hidden inside, I barreled ahead into the unknown self and into a future that was equally unknown. I let the energy of the recapitulation carry me forward, shedding everything that was familiar. I let myself be supported by a strange, and at that time unknown, energy. This was the energy of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico, as I began a healing practice of recapitulation. It became very clear, as I progressed on my journey, that I was fully supported by all who had gone before, those ancients whom had set the intent of recapitulation as the means to deep and evolutionary change.

Today, that intent flows through me too, energetic strands of that ancient intent interwoven now into the practice that Chuck and I bring into the world through our work. Over the years it has become clear to us—as we strive ever upward, like those long branches of the catalpa tree—how important it is that we bring the ancient knowledge of recapitulation to modern awareness. For we are convinced that recapitulation is the means to total and lasting healing from PTSD, from deep trauma of any sort. Whether this message is fully received now or later, after we are long gone, doesn’t really matter. What matters is that we have set the intent to pass it along.

Today the universe delivered a rainbow to the living room floor…

In addition, for the most part, we deliver the message of recapitulation through energetic means. Our intent, in keeping with the ancients, has been that people will find their way, that they will discover the healing power of recapitulation because it is so right. And that is just what has happened. Though we use some commercial means to publish our work—using the Internet to maintain a website and the self-publishing advantage offered by Amazon—for the most part, everything we offer is free. Even my books on recapitulation, the second to be published in the next few months, are provided at the barest minimum. We make no money on them, and yet we do not lack, for we have everything we need. This too is a result of engaging in and trusting in the power of intent.

And so, I acquiesce to the reality of the power of intent—the intent of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico and all others who energetically impart knowledge—absent of the busyness of engaging in all the buzz from outside (even the Pope is tweeting now!) for it really isn’t necessary. In absenting the self from all the outer buzz—from the greed for more connection; for the best deals, fearful that we’ll miss something; from the energy that is all consuming and over-consuming—we gain the inner calmness and the quiet that is required so we can be available to hear what the universe is telling us. In this manner, we become energetically available ourselves to channel the messages of the universe, to flow with the energy of ancient intent, to become part of a badly needed healing energy.

As I gaze out over my catalpa tree, I receive the message that now, more than ever before, it’s time for all of us to take full responsibility for our thoughts—as energetically resonant and affecting as our tweets and face-booking—for our actions, and for our own healing. Healing is truly an energetic process, and this we discover as soon as we turn inward, for here we find all we need.

As we decide upon a path, may it be a path of heart, a path of healing for the self and the world. May it be a path of ancient intent, for that is where the greatest energy lies, the deepest connection to soul, the possibility for true and lasting change. May we all choose the long branch when we come to the crook in the tree, rather than the short branch. If we pause long enough to contemplate, we will realize we’ve already taken that short and spiky branch so many times before, its end predictable. If we pause long enough to determine that it is indeed time to become fully responsible for healing the self, we will tap into the ancient intent of such healing practice and be supported and guided along the way.

A process of change, of recapitulation, of healing, is just that, a process, and so there are lumps and bumps to contend with, there are obstacles to encounter, there are challenging precipices to endure as we plunge ahead on our journeys, and yet there are also moments of great awakening and sublime experience as we open ourselves to such energy of intent. Our personal intent to embrace a practice of healing is embraced in return by the energy of ancient intent. Chuck and I are living in that embrace, and it is our deepest wish that others discover it and experience it too.

Here is Jeanne’s energy of intent as I once painted it…

Now, as we come to the end of the year, as the winter solstice is soon upon us, we see how crucial it is for all of us who inhabit this planet to come together, energetically. We can do this by consuming less, destroying less, wasting less time, resources, energy, etc., turning instead to the energetic practice of intending change. Repeatedly intending change and personally taking responsibility to enact change in our own lives means there is hope for us, and this planet that we have done such a good job of bringing to the brink of destruction. Real change can happen on an energetic level. That’s my message for today.

And so I encourage all of you to give the gift of energy this holiday season, by intending healing, love, and kindness along with your other gifts. Begin a personal practice, extending positive energy to all in your nearness, to those you love and those who challenge you the most. And don’t be afraid to talk to the trees! They have a lot to tell us. Step out onto a new branch; a new path of heart, without fear, keeping in mind at all times that energetic intent is what binds us all. Let’s use it more fully now. Let’s heal.

From within the energetics of intent, I send you greetings,
Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: A Leaf Falls

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Yesterday, election day in the USA, I sat and meditated in the early morning.

The inevitable fall…

Outside the window the last few leaves of the catalpa tree slowly made their way to the ground. One leaf fell and gently hit the ground with a little bounce. Then another fell, and hit the ground with the same little bounce. And then another and another.

I noticed that the leaves could not stop this process. There was nothing they could do but acquiesce, let go, and tumble through the air. One after another, leaves fell. As each leaf fell it embraced this next phase in its lifecycle, change and disintegration inevitable, nature on course. And then I knew that the outcome of the election would be right, just as it was right that each leaf fall and that the earth absorb the impact and accept it into its bosom.

I ponder my own life. Do I acquiesce to life’s unfolding, to nature’s course?

I study the way my mind works, how it instructs, prompts, and pushes me along in life, asking me to do the right things, be what is expected, uphold certain rules. I acquiesce to the things of this world because I must—I live in this world. But at the same time, I must acknowledge my spirit, the other great force inside me, which instructs quite differently. It asks me to slow down, to simply be. And so I seek balance between these two forces that push, guide, and teach me as I take my journey through life.

I return my gaze to the trees often throughout the day, watching how they handle this cold time of year, the wind and rain of fall, the first frosts, and early snow soon to come. I watch as they prepare in their own ways, shedding that which cannot withstand the impact of this next season. I intuit their shutting down of energy as they pull inward, their outer bark steeled against the impact of weather, while their inner core still holds warmth, along with countless memories of this time of year, of death now and resurrection soon to come.

And so I learn from the trees as I meditate, as I turn inward and let that which is outside of me go the way it goes, taking the natural course. For I know that new life awaits us all, both in death and in this life each day, as we allow ourselves to let go of that which is no longer viable, and as we face the fall that is inevitable.

I’m very happy that President Obama has won reelection, but I also know that had he lost it would have been the next step on this journey, in this time. As I continue to face the changes that I must in my lifetime, I must stay balanced, tending my outer life and my inner life equally. I must do what I think and intuit is right; paying attention to the needs of both of these lives I live so earnestly.

This morning’s sun…

Thoughts turn now to inner warmth, to providing sustenance and life-giving nurturance within, even while I observe the cold shutting down of that which until recently has provided such outer sustenance and nurturance. In inward turning there is much to be garnered, and so I embrace this time of change—a good time for recapitulation and inner work!

In this time of energy consolidation, may you all be well and safe,
Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Consider the Trees

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The way of the tree

We can learn a lot from studying the trees. During her recapitulation, Taisha Abelar, a cohort of Carlos Castaneda’s, lived for a time in a tree. She’d never climbed a tree in her life when she began but by the time six months had passed she’d recapitulated through many dark nights in the tree house she slept in. Over that time she had absorbed so much of tree life that she could communicate with trees directly. She learned to be silent enough to sense their needs, to know their pain, and to communicate with them through feeling. But she also found herself freed of her traumatic past.

“As I was seated on a sturdy limb with my back resting on the tree trunk, my recapitulation took on an altogether different mood,” she writes in The Sorcerers’ Crossing. “I could remember the minutest details of my life experiences without fear of any coarse emotional involvement. I could laugh my head off at things that at one time had been deep traumas for me. I found my obsessions no longer capable of evoking self-pity. I saw everything from a different perspective, not as the urbanite I had always been, but as the carefree and abandoned tree dweller that I had become.”

During the recent early winter storm, I thought a lot about the trees. As I watched them bear the brunt of the snow and the wind, I saw the parallel between learning to become like a tree, withstanding the beauty and fury of nature, and doing a recapitulation.

Trees are rooted, unable to move from their designated spots. Forced to withstand constant exposure they must be strong enough to survive yet weak enough to bend in the breeze. From the heights of the highest branches we can gain a new perspective on life and the world around us. Offering us the opportunity to gain new insights and clarity, they also offer us deep grounding. The deeper the root system, the better the connection to the life force of Mother Earth.

Trees are silent beings, observers of life, pensive and heavy, yet they jostle and sway, tossing lightly and gaily in the wind. They lose branches in storms. They topple over when their time is done and return to the earth from which they once sprang. They know the course of their lives, having lived them many times. Upon their demise, springing up again from their deepest roots or previously dropped seeds, they are ready to take on life anew. Most meaningful to us is that they give us the oxygen we need in order to breathe and live on this planet, thus their lives are more than meaningful, for they support all human life.

We too must learn to become like the trees as we recapitulate. We must learn how to stand our ground, our roots firmly sunk in the nurturing earth while at the same time we withstand the onslaughts of the past. Steady and balanced in two worlds—roots in the earth and branches reaching for the heavens—we too are capable of withstanding the onslaughts of the seasons of our lives. Whether we recapitulate a fine memory, a delightful memory, or a horrific memory too distasteful to speak of, we can learn from the trees how to handle what comes to greet us in recapitulation.

During the recent storm, I noticed the trees in my yard standing silently, accepting the unusually early snowstorm. I saw them bear the weight of the unexpected snow cover. I saw them bowing down under the weight of the heavy attack from outside, their leaves unsuspecting collaborators. I saw them bear the tension, until it was time to let go because they could no longer hold back what had been imposed on them. I heard the breaking of limbs, leafy branches that had no recourse but to snap.

I saw all of this and said to myself: This is like recapitulation. During recapitulation we are not in control, yet we strive to control in the old ways that worked for us. But during recapitulation we are often confronted with things that we just cannot control, things that come at us out of nowhere like this autumn winter. We too have no recourse then but to snap beneath the weight of the onslaught and allow what falls from us to be strewn at our feet. We too, like the trees, can look down and see our branches of self—parts of ourselves that we thought we needed to hold onto—and realize that they now lie at our feet and yet we still stand.

During the storm cleanup we can look back and wonder: Did we really need to hold onto those parts we once thought so dear? Without them we feel lighter, freer, our branches now able to lift higher than before. Freed of the burden of trauma, of the accumulation of old ideas, misconceptions, and old perceptions of the self, we are like the trees, able to experience ourselves in a new way, just as Taisha once did. No longer attached to the past in the same way we find that, having recapitulated, we are totally different beings.

There are sturdy and tall trees, oaks and maples, and yet there are supple and easily swayed trees that survive just as long, that have the ability to spring back to life no matter what occurs. In recapitulation, is it better to be so strong that our branches continually snap and break off until we are limbless? Or is it better to sway in the breeze of our recapitulation, knowing that we are firmly rooted, connected to the life force of all things, certain that new life awaits? At some point in our recapitulations we must all consider how we are going to proceed on our life’s journey. What kind of tree are we going to be?

Indeed we can and should study the trees. In their silence alone they offer so much for our consideration. Just contemplating the fact that we could not survive on this planet without them may be enough of a start. I hold trees in the highest regard and I am thankful for them. With great respect, at each breath I take, I am humbled to share the planet with them.

Jan