Here is the channeled message for this week! As Jeanne points out, stay innerly calm and focused, and wait for messages from the deeper self before taking action. Sounds like great advice!
While reading Felix Wolf’s The Art of Navigation, I’m ignited with sudden clarity regarding cognitive dissonance. Describing it to Jan, I crisscross my arms overhead in an abrupt gesture to demonstrate the clash of dissonant energetic currents. At the exact second that my arms cross in the air above my head, loud crashes impact each of the two large living room windows. A cardinal hits one, a blue jay the other. Momentarily stunned, they each fall to the ground and then fly off. I took this dramatic synchronous event as a sign to write this blog.
Felix Wolf, a fellow traveler whom I’ve never met, has also deeply immersed himself in the shamanic world of Carlos Castaneda. Though Carlos ended his shamanic line, the energetic permutations of his knowledge vibrate in new ways throughout the world. For Felix it has emerged as the art of navigation, for me it has been the clinical application of recapitulation.
What comes alive for me in Felix’s writing is the emphasis the Nagual, Carlos Castaneda, put on using cognitive dissonance to achieve the coveted state of inner silence, the springboard to infinity. Carlos explained that the mind, with its modus operandi of rationality, constructs a world with a river of energy that flows in one direction only, its true north being reason. Our internal dialogue, the flow of thoughts in our minds, groups its interpretations of reality along this flow of rationality. What the mind can’t handle is the experience of a thought, fact or event that flows in the opposite direction of its reason. When that happens there is an interruption in the operations of the mind that lands us momentarily into a state of inner silence.
In inner silence we are treated to perceptions devoid of inner dialogue, devoid of the mind’s normal interpretative system. For a moment we step outside the incessant internal dialogue box of the matrix into a world of energy. Joseph Campbell once wrote: “Every now and then, while I’m walking along Fifth Avenue, everything just breaks up into subatomic particles and I think, ‘Well, Jesus Christ, that is what it is.'”
When I was in my very early twenties, Jeanne and I, still in our young marriage, lived and worked in Manhattan. Jeanne, employed by an international importer, had met a young man at a trade show and was smitten with attraction. The depth of her feeling did not go away. What threatened me most was that she was attracted to his spirit. How could this be? I was spirit man!
I allowed these colliding currents of energy to crash. I asked myself the question: “Are Jeanne and I not meant to be together?” Immediately the world grew quiet and I dropped into the most peaceful calm state I’d ever known. I stayed there for a while, utterly calm, no thoughts. I emerged greatly perplexed by the meaning of this experience. I refused the thought that we would end. I awaited the return of my mind to overrun the thought of ending, but I never forgot the experience.
Twenty-five years later, I lay next to Jeanne as she drew her last breath in Switzerland. I was confronted with the dissonance of the person I cherished the most in this world, now dead before me. In that moment, the world went silent and a very deep sense of calm swept over me. It stayed with me for hours.
Several years ago, Jan and I sat in the office with the intent that Jan would channel Jeanne. Jan sat opposite me. As I looked over at her, her form suddenly blurred and before my very eyes she transmogrified into Jeanne; it was like a scene out of the movie Ghost! My reason was overcome by an incontestable contradiction. All went silent and I entered that state of deep calm.
In each of these experiences I was able to hold the dissonant energies together and be transported into the calm of inner silence. However, this is not always the case. Frequently, the collisions of dissonant experiences generate a fragmentation that takes years and deep work to weave together, master, and release to the calms of silence.
In the psychological world, trauma is identified as the mind’s encounter with an incredible disruption to its reason, to its normal expectations of order. This can be the traumatic impact of being in a sudden earthquake or being subjected to unexpected behavior, such as physical or sexual abuse at the hands of a “loved one.” These ruptures in normalcy fragment consciousness, as the normalcy of the mind’s expectations are disrupted, sending one out-of-mind and often out-of-body. In such cases, cognitive dissonance leads to a dissociation that requires a recapitulation to recover the fragmented self and the energy needed to withstand the dissonant energies of the shattering experience before one can release to the deep calm of inner silence.
Shamans spend years recapitulating their lives, piecing together the ruptures in their minds that once led them into states of non-ordinary reality. When we are capable of sustaining the full truth of our own recapitulation experiences—reconciling the dissonance—the mind ceases to be dominant and we reach inner silence with what was or what is, freed from the judgments of the inner dialogue, delivered at last to the place of deep calm.
With recapitulation and reconciliation, we are now capable of seeing and being in the greater reality with deep calm. We are now able to explore dimensions of reality that exist beyond the narrow bands of reason. We are able to participate in infinity, with utter calmness.
May we see our encounters with cognitive dissonance, those ruptures in the continuity of the mind’s expectations, however shattering, as opportunities to accrue moments of inner silence. The Shamans of Ancient Mexico maintain that all our inner silence moments in life accrue until they reach a critical mass. At that point we are capable of living in inner silence at will. Cognitive dissonance—like planes that suddenly disappear without a trace—are opportunities to launch ourselves into an expanded reality through inner silence; a reality we are now charged with evolving into as Planet Reason enters its waning stages.
From the calm,
Chuck
We are 70% water. With so much water making up who we physically are it’s no wonder that we vibrate when something from outside shocks or startles us. Notice how a sudden loud sound sends reverberations through the body. Notice how terrible news sends shockwaves through us. Notice how affected we are by beautiful sounds, beautiful thoughts, beautiful sights, as beauty too sends chills through us.
Water is rarely still. Even a sedentary bowl or glass of water is in constant motion, sound waves constantly rumbling through it, shaking its molecules, though this may not be visible to the naked eye. Think of the oceans in constant motion, water flowing deep inside the earth, magnetic forces and the earth’s shifts vibrating the waters of the world. Even water that is stagnant, if shaken up has the possibility of changing its molecular structure from a putrid state to a healthy state. Vibration alone is enough to change water, but the quality of that vibration makes all the difference.
Masaru Emoto, in his book, The Hidden Messages in Water, showed how negative vibration and positive vibration impact water. In other books he continues his explorations of the subject, concluding in The True Power of Water that: “Since the quality of water improves or deteriorates depending on the information given to it, the corollary for humans, who are made up primarily of water, is to take in good information. When we do, our mind and body can become healthier. Conversely, when we take in negative information, we can get sick.”
Fascinated by the work of Emoto for several years now, I have turned once again to reading his studies, pondering our watery selves and the current health of humankind, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. The more I remain aware of myself as 70% water, the more I notice vibrations around me and how they impact me personally.
I remember myself as a child swimming all summer long, safely embraced by and at ease in the water of the swimming pool. How buoyant, how light I became! Almost as if I had lost my human form, I became one with the water. All troubles washed away in the water. In its vibration my own vibration found resonance.
Our human form allows us to feel our inner vibratory selves most keenly in the presence of sound. We can put a glass of water in front of a speaker, turn up the music, and see how the sound vibration from the speaker affects the water. It affects us too. The fact that we are 70% water further clarifies for me the concept of resonance. When we feel resonance with someone or something we are basically feeling the effects of resonant sound waves. Sound waves, as I’ve been discovering through my own experimentations, affect the human body quite profoundly. Emoto would agree that the sounds we expose ourselves to can leave us feeling happy, healthy, calm and balanced, or they can leave us feeling depleted, moody, and negative. He exposed water to ugly words and then to beautiful words and observed the difference. In crystal form, the water that had been exposed to beautiful words produced beautiful crystals while the water that had been exposed to ugly words produced equally ugly shapes.
Certain music turns me right off. I feel hatred and anger coming on its sound vibrations and I do not want to listen to it. It comes at me with assaultive dissonance and my inner vibration gets uncomfortably revved by it. I feel my water molecules jumping around and getting heated up, making me feel agitated. My 70% water tells me it doesn’t like it at all! Other music moves me with sound vibrations that, though revving, are also happy and joyous, with good feelings, and once again I float in happy buoyancy similar to the swimming pool water of my childhood. The water that I am made up of seeks positive water in return—vibrations that resonate.
When I turn to nature, I notice how my watery self likes the sound of the wind, though gusts send it shaking. It prefers calm winds and the sound of water gently babbling, though I am fully aware that big winds of change and massive tidal waves are often welcome as well, that they shake me awake, out of my complacency and negativity. And so, even though I seek resonance in my life, I’m fully aware of the potency of dissonance, that it has a purpose, and so I welcome it when it comes. I use it to look for what in my life, and in my body self, needs shaking up. I thank it for making me aware of the need for change and use it to my advantage. After all, I want to keep myself as vibratory as the waters of the world, for I do not want to become stagnant!
But I’ve gotten to a point in my life where like-resonance is most important. If it’s lacking my watery self will not stop for long; it moves on quickly now, though I might, at one time, have felt obligation or duty more strongly than resonance. Now I choose resonance over the proclamations of old voices or inhibiting social constructs that once controlled my feeling self. I now give myself permission to bow out and away from dissonance with no regrets or bad feelings if nothing fruitful is offered in return. I walk away from negative energy rather than be assaulted by it. If someone is punching me in the gut, would I stick around to keep getting punched? No thank you! Sometimes a negative situation is just negative and it’s simply most healthy and appropriate to move on to more positive energy.
In resonance we find deep satisfaction and calmness, the flow of all life resonant with ours, and in resonance life will flow with us, naturally bringing us its bounty. If we open ourselves to good vibrations, we will receive that which is good, and our vibratory 70% water selves will thank us!
Our deepest selves, I believe, all vibrate at the same rate. We are all beautiful music at our core, the same vibratory energy of the earth, the same sound waves of nature. Sometimes we are calm and sometimes we are agitated, but at our deepest core we all vibrate to the same sound. Perhaps we will all, one day, tune into the same music and hum the same tune.
Tuning in, sending you good vibrations,
Jan
Here is the channeled message for this week from Jan and Jeanne. May this guidance be helpful to you as you continue along your path.
Here is the message:
A reader asks: “So the Tivoli residents have yet another tragedy at the entrance to the village…how do we stay present when we travel through these vortex points in our world?”
On January 31, 2014 two young women were killed as they walked along the shoulder of Route 9G just leaving the village of Tivoli, NY; Bard college students on their way to the shuttle bus stop that would take them back to the campus. On March 3, 2014 a 21 year-old man was killed as he turned to drive south along Route 9G at that same intersection.
Indeed, there are energetic vortexes, whirlpools of energy that swirl beneath the currents of energy that flow on well-travelled roads—rivers of energy. Route 9G, a stretch of highway that runs parallel to the Hudson River—a mile to the West—for a long stretch of Northern Dutchess County in New York, is no exception.
The Hudson River, for all its magnificence, is a river of powerful, hidden currents. This is not a river to swim, and it has taken the lives of many innocent, daring, inexperienced and experienced swimmers alike.
The river is a metaphor for the vast energetic reality that lies beneath the surface of our consciousness. Our cars are our vehicles of consciousness, reflecting our ability to navigate the world through our will and conscious intention. But, upon entering our cars, how quickly we are taken beyond our neat little containers of consciousness! Suddenly we find ourselves in a sea of power drives, overtaken by rages at those who negate us, pass us, pressure us from the rear. We might find ourselves embroiled in power struggles and fantasies of conquest, of winning or passive-aggressively, sadistically, causing pain as we ride the brake.
The energetic currents of the highway are as powerful as the hidden currents of the river and they catch us unawares. Often, when people leave the office I warn them to walk on the earth for a while before driving away. The phenomena of highway hypnosis is the impact of the deeper energetic currents that suddenly transport us into a recapitulation. We might find ourselves suddenly transported out of body to another place and time, perhaps into a past experience or into a coexistent other-world that takes us out of this space and time.
The other day, I opened Theodore Gaster’s abridged version of The Golden Bough to this quote: “Often the soul is conceived as a bird ready to take flight.” This is the danger of highway hypnosis. The roadways we travel are filled with energetic whirlpools, vortexes that can free that bird, sometimes as a tragic dream changer. But then, who really knows their exact appointment time with death?
In a dream the other night, Jan and I found ourselves at a mountain resort next to a powerful river. I inquired about a place to swim and was shown a section that to me looked no safer than the rest of the river. Suddenly a young man surfaced from the water and came ashore. I asked him about the current. He confirmed that it was powerful, but explained that he loved to be dragged below. It was where he experienced emotion, he said.
The deeper energetic currents are indeed the home of the powerful emotions and sensations that make us feel alive. The I Ching, in the hexagram The Well, states that life that does not go down into the deepest waters of the well is an unfulfilled life.
Young adulthood is flooded by the currents of this life energy, and many of our youth are sacrificed or sacrifice themselves to the river gods who both enliven but may also swallow the daring, the innocent, and the inexperienced.
In my dream, Jan and I left the resort only to be met by torrential rains which flooded the steep mountain roadway. We descended carefully, in low gear, gripping a handrail outside the passenger side window as we inched along. Eventually, however, we had to let go of the rail and flow with the current, with no guarantees. There are no guarantees; even with the greatest of caution, we must ultimately let go to the unknown.
The other day, amidst a computer crisis, I secured a midweek evening appointment to meet with a “Genius” at an Apple store a great distance away. I meticulously covered all my bases. I broke through the Apple firewall of computer voice-generated direction to speak with a living person who assured me that the battery I needed was in stock and could be installed at the appointment. I checked directions, highways, travel conditions, where to park, etc., to ensure arriving on time.
With time to spare, Jan and I embarked on our journey. As we entered our neighboring state of Connecticut, we both were sure we’d see the mall that neither of us had been to in years. I was certain it was exit 3, Jan thought exit 4. We saw no signs, we saw no mall, a mall we both remembered to be clearly visible from the highway. “Maybe it’s exit 5…6…7…” Well, by exit 9 we pulled off, only to discover that the river had mischievously swept us along its currents with no guideposts.
We turned around—both exits 3 and 4 were right—arriving 15 minutes late for our appointment, but that was not a problem. The Genius, as well as two ascending managers brought forth as I protested, informed us that the battery could not be changed that evening, that I’d been misinformed! Despite my angry persona, I wasn’t really angry. What mystified me was what it all meant. It came to my humble wife, Jan, to explain: “You know, we just aren’t special.” That was Jeanne’s profound realization too, as she acquiesced to her own death—she was just not special. The highway of energy delivered us to this realization.
We are beings who are going to die. Regardless of our most meticulous efforts at impeccability and warriorhood, or our most foolish surrendering to the undertow—at some unknown moment the dream will change.
Jan and I recently watched the movie, The Girl. A young woman, inexperienced at life, tried to bring a group of Mexicans illegally across the border. She had them cross on foot at a river’s low point, the current appearing mild. She was to meet them on the other side. A woman drowned while crossing. Her little daughter survived. Stricken with grief and guilt, the young woman takes the young girl back into Mexico, into the hills, to a remote village where her grandmother, a devout spiritual woman, lives. The young woman apologizes to the old woman for the death of her daughter. The older woman, listens to her apologies, then pauses and calmly says, “You didn’t take my daughter. The river did.”
The shamans teach us to begin each day with the statement: “I, [Your Name], am a being who is going to die.” And with that awareness, they instruct us to enter the dream of the day, conscious but unafraid, ready to flow with the dream changers we may encounter along the way.
Flowing with caution,
Chuck