Category Archives: Jan’s Blog

Welcome!

Archived here are the blogs I write about inner life and outer life, inner nature and outer nature. Perhaps my writings on life, as I see it and experience it, may offer you some small insight or different perspective as you take your own journey.

With gratitude for all that life teaches me, I share my experiences.

Jan Ketchel

Lessons in a Life: Refuse Or Choose?

“Our only sin is to say no to evolution.”-Obadiah Harris, Ph.D.

Signs of change are so clear now... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Signs of change are so clear now…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

In the Tao all things are equal, all things have value, all things are necessary, and evolution is par for the course. Of course we will evolve, it’s natural. We see evolution in nature all the time. We see it now in the drastic changes that global warming has imposed upon us, that we have imposed upon ourselves. Even those individuals who refuse to change, who steadfastly hunker down and won’t budge an inch, are being forced to change because nature is always taking its natural course. In the process, change is being imposed upon us all.

Many people simply fear change, the great unknown frightening. There is the specter of death in change, and truly there must be sacrifice for evolution to occur.

The other day our backyard was bustling with activity. I could hear the sharp calls of several hawks piercing the quiet morning. KEE! KEE! I could hear a rush of wings. Going to the deck I saw what was happening. A pair of hawks was attempting to push their babies out of the nest. I had seen the hawks earlier in the summer and knew they were nesting in the tall trees in our yard. I’d heard them often enough, seen them circling above the yard, even occasionally swooping down upon our songbird neighbors.

The amount of noise and activity was astounding as the parents attempted to get the babies to move on! They had raised them so diligently, with care and protection, but today was the day. All that was over. It was time to move on!

There was an awful lot of shrieking going on! The babies seemed to be saying, NO! I watched as the large adults swooped in upon their smaller offspring, moving them along from one branch to another, pushing and shoving them away from the nest. Once out, they were not going to be allowed back in! It looked almost violent at times, but I realized how necessary it was.

If the babies didn’t go, the parents would be forced to leave them behind. It was time, and the idea of turning back was not part of the plan. The plan was set. It was a day of sacrifice.

The mother, especially, was faced with having to sacrifice, for whether her babies left or not it was in her nature to leave them behind. She could only hope that her babies would take the leap and fly off too. Finally, there seemed to be only one last recalcitrant child. The screaming intensified. Calls were coming from many different areas in the yard, both parents calling and calling, the other babies calling too. All seemed to be saying: Come on, you can do it! It’s time to go! Hurry, not much time left!

Sometimes it's just time to cross that bridge! - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Sometimes it’s just time to cross that bridge!
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

They gave it their all, but in the end, had it been necessary, they would have left without their child, sacrifice made, nature’s call to evolve too powerfully ingrained to refuse.

We humans are constantly called to leave the nest too, to move on into new life. A relationship ends, we lose our job, someone close to us dies, illness comes, we are forced to change by outside circumstances, or by inner decisions we make. It doesn’t really matter how change approaches us, the main thing is to recognize that it has arrived and that our moment of sacrifice is upon us.

We, however, have come far from our natural instincts. We don’t seem to have that powerfully ingrained stamp of nature in us anymore. Now we tend to make excuses for ourselves, choosing to pamper and baby ourselves when the truth is that our own time of sacrifice is trying like heck to get our attention, trying to reconnect us with the nature lying dormant inside us. And that nature knows how to act appropriately, for it is truly the Tao, just as the hawks in our backyard are.

Just as the hawks signaled to their young that “today is the day we are leaving the nest,” so does life tell us the same. Many times during our lives the calls come. If we don’t answer the call we won’t evolve. Our lives will stagnate and we will set ourselves up to become prey for other energies, entities seeking to live off our refusal. And then, as Obadiah Harris stated in the introduction to Elmer Green’s The Ozawkie Book of the Dead, we have sinned. We have decided not to respond to the call of the Soul of the Earth itself, telling us that we must evolve so she can evolve as well.

The hawks know they must evolve. Nature does not question that. Nature sacrifices and, without looking back, moves on. I could hear the franticness in the calls of the hawk parents. They did not want to leave their baby behind, but they would have. Nature is that direct.

The hawks finally gave their baby one last chance. I watched as one of them, perhaps the mother, rushed the baby who was sitting on a low branch. She crashed into it and knocked it off its perch. It worked! I watched as they both flew up and away. After that, the calls of KEE! KEE! echoed overhead more joyfully, until the whole family flew off, never to return. Mission accomplished!

Like the baby hawks we are all afraid of change too, but change is not afraid of us. It comes knocking at our door every day. We, unlike the hawks, have the power of choice and we can fend for ourselves once our parents are gone. Perhaps we choose to say no, to hunker down. And yet such a choice, more often than not, leaves us sitting alone in our nest, wallowing in the scent of past memories, thinking we are saving ourselves from the pain of change but in the meantime all we do is wallow in our pain. Our only saving grace may be that eventually we get bored with ourselves and our circumstances and opt out of the smelly nest and onto fresher air and wider skies.

Everything flows along nicely in the Tao... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Everything flows along nicely in the Tao…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Perhaps it is our lack of true connection to nature that keeps us wallowing. If we were really connected and in alignment, living in the sacred world of the Tao, flowing with what comes, we would move on when it was time, because we would be fully aware that it was time.

If we stay nesting in our fantasies we lose our connection to reality, and then we miss out on the real opportunities to change and move on into new life. We are often so immersed in our fantasies that we don’t hear nature calling as loudly as the hawks. KEE! KEE! KEE!

If we are to evolve the planet, we must evolve ourselves first. And that means we all have to sacrifice something, someone, some fantasy, some idea about ourselves, and embrace the truth that we are responsible for our own nest-leaving, while we still have a choice.

Nature is calling right now!
Jan

Lessons in a Life: The Greatest Teacher

The right path might not always be the easiest... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
The right path might not always be the easiest…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

A common practice among Buddhist teachers is to send students off to face what they have the most difficulty with, their fears, their dislikes, their egos, their complacencies.

A student who craves company and dislikes being alone might be sent to live in an isolated hut on a mountaintop. A student who craves being alone and dislikes noisy interruptions might be sent to work in a busy kitchen for a few years.

Jack Kornfield, in A Path with Heart, describes how his teacher found the perfect solution to his tendency to fall asleep during meditation. He sent him to sit on the edge of a deep dark well. Fear of falling into the well kept him quite alert!

Those examples might sound strict, but such practices are meant to break the habits, desires, and tendencies of a myriad of conscious and unconscious attributes that we humans must contend with. In my experience, life itself finds plenty of ways to break us of our habits, fears, and desires—no other master teacher necessary!

It’s almost impossible to avoid having to confront that which we try to hide from. Trying to manipulate our lives so that we don’t have to face what we fear the most usually doesn’t work. In the end, if there is something we are trying to avoid, it finds its way to our door.

Recent events in my own life have put me to the test, tossing me out of my quiet life and into the maelstrom of navigating through the complicated world of bureaucratic reality. I have had to become an advocate for another person and, truthfully, I have always been good about jumping in and handling things succinctly when called upon. I like to get things done right the first time, quickly and efficiently, only too happy to jump right back into my nice little life once the mission is accomplished. In this case, however, in spite of my best efforts, my tendency for efficiency was not well met.

It soon became clear that I had no control. I had to acquiesce to the unfolding of life, sit back and patiently wait for a long series of events to unfold before resolution. It has been a lesson in patient detachment, learning to be available and open to the sometimes strange and unwieldy manner in which life unfolds. Giving up control does not mean not acting. It means always acting appropriately, in alignment with what is right, but knowing when to stand back, point made, and wait. In truly giving up control in this manner, it’s amazing to stand back and watch how things go down!

During the past few weeks, I have truly gone through my own strict Buddhist training, with Life as my master teacher. For instance, I give myself labels; we all do. I’m shy and quiet, I don’t like confrontation—I’m a peacemaker not an anarchist after all—and yet in spite of those labels I have had to rip them off and become their opposites.

I have had to break out of all the compartments I put myself into, the ideas of myself as this or that, and become whatever was needed. My personal journey over the past few weeks has been quite an interesting one. The other person, I realize, is secondary to the process, for I have taken quite a journey, with myself as the primary subject.

In the end, on a path with heart, all is right... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
In the end, on a path with heart, all is right…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Life just won’t let us sit and be complacent. It constantly asks us to face our fears, to flow with what comes, to change, and it sure finds some interesting ways of doing just that! In my experience, the energy of the past few weeks—and perhaps even further back—has been unrelenting, and I have personally gone through quite a whirlwind, both within and without. But as I’ve learned, in acquiescing, in patient waiting while simultaneously making sure that what is right occurs as it should, positive outcome prevails. And in the process, I’ve learned a whole lot about myself—some very valuable lessons.

Perhaps there are some quieter and more gentle times ahead, as times of great force and change are often naturally followed by times of calm and rejuvenation.

Looking forward to enjoying some calmness, and wishing you all the same,
Jan

Lessons in a Life: Beautiful Loving Vibration

Beautiful Loving Vibration
A Mantra

I am beautiful, loving vibration.
You are beautiful, loving vibration.
All beings are beautiful, loving vibration.

May I experience myself as beautiful, loving vibration.
May you experience yourself as beautiful, loving vibration.
May all beings experience themselves as beautiful, loving vibration.

May I experience you as beautiful, loving vibration.
May you experience me as beautiful, loving vibration.
May we experience all beings as beautiful, loving vibration.

May all beings experience me as beautiful, loving vibration.
May all beings experience you as beautiful, loving vibration.
May all beings experience all other beings as beautiful, loving vibration.

I am beautiful, loving vibration.
You are beautiful, loving vibration.
All beings are beautiful, loving vibration.

August 11, 2015
J. E. Ketchel

All of life is beautiful, loving vibration! - Photo by Jan Ketchel
All of life is beautiful, loving vibration!
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Lessons in a Life: The Quiet Truth

Like thoughts taking off... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Like thoughts taking off…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

In meditation it is common for thoughts to impose, for ideas to form, for stories to spin. The antidote is to bring attention back to the breath, to a mantra, a chant, any predetermined anchor will do the trick… until thoughts reappear. Then it’s back to the breath, to the mantra, to the chant or the anchor.

Life, I have found, is much like the process of meditation. We can so easily be overwhelmed by life, by forgetting why we are here, our purpose often impossible to locate and often harder to actualize, as our daily intentions go flying out the window as soon as something enticing comes along. The desires and demands that come during the unfolding of a day are like the thoughts that impose during meditation. In fact the thoughts that come during meditation are all about life—the figuring and planning, the conniving, reminding, and determining of what we want and how to get it—as the two intermingle, quite naturally.

Over time, as we learn to sit quietly, in meditation or otherwise, we enjoy a peacefulness that may only exist because we are removed, for a few moments, from life, from its plans, needs and wants. We discover that we are simple beings, just sitting still, part of it all. The more we achieve such moments of sitting still the more we experience ourselves as simple energy, needing nothing. No matter how we came into this world, what our experiences have been, and who we think we are, we can all achieve the same simple pleasure of quietude in sitting still.

It is in such quiet moments that deeper realizations come to us. It is in such quiet moments, when we are no more than a breath of air, that we might discover our deepest and truest needs. They might not be what we think. The quiet truth, learned in this manner, might shake us as violently as the truth learned in a harsh or abrupt and painful manner. The quiet truth is often the catalyst to real change, just as tragedy or trauma is.

And then there are times when nothing seems to change us. Nothing that we do, nothing that happens to us has any effect. We might be truly shaken or we might enter a state of bliss, but such moments of opportunity pass us by. Perhaps we are just not ready. Perhaps we are afraid. Perhaps this is not the lifetime that such things will be accomplished. Perhaps we really do want to come back and do it again. Perhaps that is our deepest truth after all.

Perhaps we haven’t achieved quiet sitting very often. Perhaps we haven’t given ourselves the opportunity to hear our deepest truth. Perhaps we feel we’ve been shorted, that life just isn’t very exciting and we just don’t have any hope that it will change. But in taking a different look at who we really are, we offer ourselves a truth that is hard to ignore. For, in truth, the being we are in the world, as we go about our lives, is only one part of us, a different being from our sitting quiet self.

It’s not hard to determine that the worldly self experiences life one way, but our sitting still self experiences it another way. It’s also not hard to determine that both of these selves exist simultaneously. We might notice how we present one self to the world and another only to ourselves; though both exist in our physical body they are two different beings.

It is our quiet self that asks us to sit still and it is our worldly self that interrupts with those thoughts, ideas, and stories. It’s our quiet self that reminds us to breath, to say our mantra, our chant, to anchor ourselves in some way when we meditate. Or we might be sitting outside, quietly listening to the sounds of nature when thoughts interfere. It is our quiet self that shuts them down, intent upon having a moment of peace. Once we realize that we are these two selves all the time, we realize they each have an important role to play. They are the knowing selves, our closest guides through life.

Sitting quietly... - Photo by Chuck Ketchel
Sitting quietly…
– Photo by Chuck Ketchel

As we shift our awareness away from finding one or the other as problematic, and connect to both of them, we are more aware of how they work, and how we can work with them to stay focused, sometimes quiet and sometimes active, for it is only in a balance of the two that we can really live in this world. And then the challenge becomes giving them equal time, listening to both of them, and acting appropriately.

And that is the true work of this lifetime, to know who we really are—all parts of ourselves, fully—to work with what we came into this world with, striving always to make this life be the one where we solve and resolve all that has haunted and challenged us, perhaps for many lives. Our ultimate goal is to fully transform and actualize our fullest potential, in this world and the next. Now that is something to sit quietly and meditate on!

Actively sitting quietly,
Jan

Lessons in a Life: The Great Unknown Known

Before sleep I call upon Robert Monroe, great out-of-body explorer and author of several books as well as guided meditations on the subject. “Will you take me on as your apprentice?” I ask. Before long I am asleep and dreaming.

Girl on beach, drawn as we all are... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Girl on beach, drawn as we all are…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

I stroll along a boardwalk. On my left side is an endless row of doorways to video arcades, to adventures and games, places to learn and test skills. On my right is the ocean, dark and brooding.

I pop into one arcade after another, through wide doorways into big rooms, through narrow doorways, no wider than a sheet of paper, into rooms equally narrow. All doorways are accessible; no matter how thin, I simply slip in. I have many adventures in these various rooms, partaking in games of skill, learning how to manipulate and master everything that comes at me.

Every now and then I step back out onto the boardwalk and walk out onto the beach and step into the waves of the ocean. As opposed to the busyness of the arcade scene, all is calm and quiet here. I am calm and at ease here too.

All night long, while I dream, I partake in life along the boardwalk and in the arcade rooms. I play all the games. I am enticed, challenged, gain insights, skills, and a sense of power and prowess, and yet it all soon becomes repetitive and boring. At the end of the night, just before I wake up, I walk one more time out to the ocean’s edge and realize that this is what matters, this is what’s meaningful, this is the whole point of everything. I wake up in utter calmness.

The boardwalk is the path through life. We make many trips along that boardwalk, through many lifetimes, selecting how we want to live, being drawn here and there, walking the narrow planks over and over again.

The arcade rooms represent the many adventures we have, the choices we make to play one game or another, the things we are challenged with and the things we learn. Here all the desires, the wantings, the needs, the things of this world that we find so enticing are supplied, encountered, and experienced.

The ocean is the Great Unknown Known. I call it this because although it is dark and brooding and hard to see what lies in its depths, we sense such affinity with it. There is familiarity in its mystery and we are constantly drawn to it. We are drawn there by the High Self, our spirit urging us to discover what it offers, just as I was drawn in my dream. We go to it throughout our lifetimes, perhaps not as often as we go to the arcade rooms, but often enough that we all have a sense of its presence and significance in our lives.

Life's repetitions keep us going in circles... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Life’s repetitions keep us going in circles…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Our sense of familiarity with it, hard to pinpoint at first, becomes more realized as we get to know it better. For some, the unconscious, that Great Unknown Known, is frightening. To others it is calming though still mysterious. It will remain a mystery until we dive deeper into its depths and discover what it holds for us. Once we have gone into its depths enough times we gain a certain prowess and ease, equal to that which we gain in the reality of this world, as we engage in it, walking the boardwalks of our many lifetimes.

The more we explore the ocean, the more we feel its resonance, its energy so like the energy of our spirit. The more we enter it the more we gain a certain prowess in its waters. We might even experience the great depths of calm that came over me at the end of my dream as we dive deeper into the mysteries of the inner self. Even as we become calm in its waters, we are also aware that we have still much to learn, as its mysteries are endless. It is the vastness of infinity, and just that, infinite.

Each time I took a break from the arcade rooms and stepped into the ocean in my dream calmness came over me, and yet I always went back to the boardwalk and the arcades. By the end of the night, however, I got the message. It’s not the boardwalk and the endless supply of games, one more bedazzling, enticing and challenging than the next, but the deep and broody ocean that is important. It is where our spirit takes us over and over again. Our spirit knows it’s what we are really seeking, and that it offers all the adventure we really need.

The ocean, the Great Unknown Known, is the big draw. It offers the wonder and mystery of what lies beyond the boardwalk, beyond this world, enticing us to discover it for ourselves, asking us to test its waters as eagerly as we jump into another arcade game.

In the end it’s the balance between the two that we seek. We must let ourselves fully experience what the boardwalk offers, on both sides. We must fully live in this world, the arcade rooms, but also fully avail ourselves of the world of the Great Unknown Known. And that really means that we soon discover that it is not so unknown at all, but just another part of who we really are.

Where our heart knows we must go... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Where our heart knows we must go…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

There are many ways to go to the ocean every day, in sitting calmly, in simply breathing, in meditation, in just being, in refusing to do what we might normally feel we must do, in what the shamans call “not doing.” In “not doing” we refuse to go into the arcade rooms. Instead, we go to the other side of the boardwalk, slip into the ocean for a moment or two and wait for it to show us something. You too might ask for Robert Monroe’s help. I think he’s out there waiting.

For now, we must return to the boardwalk because that’s where we live, but the ocean is always right there.

Not doing,
Jan