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

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: The Yellow Jacket & Me

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

Nature being nature...but not at my front door!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The other nest builders who make me laugh...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nature instructs. Are we awake?

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

Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: After Recapitulation

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

We are all composed of light and shadow selves...

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

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

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

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

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

These visitors to our yard seem to be asking each other, "Are you ready to take the journey?"

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

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

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

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

Jan

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

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: The Evolving Self In Recapitulation

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

In containment...

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

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

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

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

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

A new self emerges...

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

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

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

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

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

Something new...

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

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

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

Most humbly offered,

Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: The Self In Recapitulation

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What does it mean to do a recapitulation and how do you start? These are some of the questions that people ask. In my experience, recapitulation, when approached from a clinical point of view, isn’t something you do, it’s something that comes to you and takes you on a journey. It’s something that you know you just cannot avoid any longer. It’s your spirit urging you to finally face what has been eating away at your insides your whole life. It’s your fragmented self stating the obvious, that it’s tired of running and hiding, of playing the old games, dodging the truth. The truth hurts, it tells you, but this is hurting more, so let’s stop now, let’s do it differently.

So, how do you start? You answer the call. You say: Okay, I’m ready to find out who I am. I’m ready to find out what it is that won’t let me rest, that won’t let me live and love in a calm and balanced way, totally present, totally accepting of all that comes to me, totally allowing me to be me.

We may indeed feel as if we are suspended in a tree one day, flying high with clear insight as we recapitulate...

Taisha Abelar, a cohort of Carlos Castaneda, was suspended from a tree during part of her recapitulation, tied up and left to deal with her unconscious and its onslaughts. Later she moved into a tree house in the same tree and lived alone there for months, learning to climb and swing from the branches of this tree that became her home for the duration of her recapitulation. Everything she needed was contained within the container of Self in containment in that tree.

In taking up the process of recapitulation we don’t necessarily need to be tied into a tree. Our psyches have a way of making sure we get what we need, however, some sort of containment is needed. And just how our psyches will work with us will be unique to each of us. Some days we may feel like we are indeed suspended from a tree and other days it may feel as if we are inside a dark cave, another favorite location the Shamans took full advantage of during recapitulation. Containment and learning how to sit with the tension of our inner world is part of the process. As the process naturally unfolds we learn patience, which comes over time, as we practice bearing that tension within containment.

The most important step, as Chuck wrote about in his blog last week, is establishing an adult self to ground us and take the journey with us, an adult self to sit beside the child self, in containment, and explain what is really happening. This is where the first sense of balance is established—inside the self—with a sort of parent self who can plant its feet firmly in reality, set down roots, and outline some rules of engagement. This is the self that knows that some limitations and boundaries are necessary if progress is to be made, like the parent who knows that the kid in you won’t be in a good mood tomorrow if it doesn’t get enough sleep. This is the parent who knows what your life is really like and how you tend to handle things or don’t. This is also the parent who knows how you react when you get scared or triggered.

In the next day our splendid moment may collapse as we enter a new phase of our inner world...

All of our parts engage in recapitulation, but this parent self has a major role. It lets us know how important it is to set some limits and establish some boundaries to handle the past as it comes flying up to greet us. It knows that it’s going to not only be helpful as we begin our recapitulation, but absolutely necessary. These limits and boundaries will work in many ways, at first in keeping the fragmented self safe while memories come. These limits and boundaries will also be present to let some new ideas and new energy in, in amounts that we can handle. These limits and boundaries extend inward, challenging deeply embedded ideas of the self that must be allowed simultaneous protection and release. These limits and boundaries will challenge us by keeping us safe sometimes and confronting us at others, both supporting and failing us as appropriate, as we go through our recapitulation. These limits and boundaries, as I found out, may at first be well established, firmly entrenched adult patterns of behavior learned from others, from our own parents for instance.

My adult self was pretty much always in control. Firmly established at a young age, she dominated. She was a combination of my own two parents, her responses to life mimicking theirs. I took in, as we are programmed to do, what I saw in my parents. My father, once a free spirit, was dampened by fear and duty later in life. However, he didn’t lose his extraverted desire to be in the world, to get ahead, to always be one step ahead of the next guy until middle age. Before then he was always in a hurry, eager to engage life. Having suffered polio as a young child, his leg never healing properly, he could not run, but that did not stop him from giving the impression that he was always running. What he was running from I never knew, but I somehow understood that you ran from things. And so I took on this characteristic of his and ran too, in more ways than one.

My mother was the opposite of my father. Introverted and withdrawn, she rarely engaged the world. She let him do that while she retreated behind her books, judgments, and intellect. Rational and unsentimental, her boundaries were solid and impenetrable. From observing her, I saw that withdrawing from the world was the way to be, as much as running was. I took on my mother’s protective shell. I watched her retreat from the world, and, although I had no idea why, I knew it was a world of great fear. This was easy to intuit. I became fearful because my parents, in each of their own ways, showed me that the world was a frightening place. I also encountered my own reasons for fear. And so, what my parents taught me about the world proved true and their behaviors, learned at a very young age, served me well for a long time.

In the beginning of my recapitulation, my adult self was much like my parents. Her spirits dampened by fear, she was stern and judgmental. Frightened of everything, she preferred remaining safe in the ways that had always worked. She ran for miles each day, staying attached to an unrelenting code of discipline, running from what she knew not, and then she retreated for the rest of the day, until the next morning when she’d get up and begin again. Day after day, year after year, she used this method to maintain balance, shoring herself up and then shutting herself in.

As the recapitulation progressed, this adult self began to soften, to let things in and let things out in ways that she never would have or could have as her previous self. Holed up within the container of self, she began to see how her own actions had the possibility of negatively affecting her own children. She saw how we inherit not only our genes but everything else from our parents and the world we grow up in. She had to face that what she had inherited did not necessarily belong to her or sit right with her. She also had to face that she was indeed just like her parents.

With each new day comes new possibilities...

Thus recapitulation, at this point, entered a new phase of change. With this clarity, the old self began breaking down, along with the rules and regulations placed on the old self by life and circumstance, and a new process of trying on new ideas and a new self began. It literally felt like my clothes didn’t fit anymore, my body didn’t move the same way; my brain reverberated and vibrated constantly as it literally let go of old ideas and attempted to assimilate new concepts of how life works. As new life was experienced outwardly, in the world I lived in, everything changed yet again.

(To be continued next week…)

Still journeying, and always humbly grateful for the opportunity,

Jan

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Petty Tyrants & The Quiet One Within

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Petty tyrants come in many forms.

Petty Tyrants come in many forms and present us with many disturbing quandaries. I recently faced a petty tyrant, not a person I had perceived as such before, and it took me a few days to realize that I had been challenged very deeply. My petty tyrant ascertained that I must, of course, feel a certain way.

“No, actually, I don’t feel that way at all,” I responded. But almost immediately a small voice inside me posed a question. “Am I doing something wrong?” it wanted to know, and a feeling that I’m not doing life properly set in. I’m a disappointment. I’m bad. I don’t uphold certain conventions of family, of relationship, the structures of society that are often perceived as so proper and utterly necessary: this is how things are done and if you don’t uphold these standards then something is wrong with you. I was uncomfortable in that moment. A shadow descended and stayed with me for days before I finally realized that a petty tyrant had come into my midst.

A petty tyrant, according to the Seers of Ancient Mexico, is anyone or thing that makes us question ourselves, makes us angry, puts us on the defensive, affronts us or makes us feel foolish, diminished, unworthy. They come to fool with us, to challenge us, and to ask us to face our true selves. Unfathomed by boundaries they slip into our lives and wreak havoc, wrecking our staunch perceptions of the world. Judging, condescending, and selfish, they criticize us and pummel our egos.

In psychological terms, a petty tyrant bears our projections; our deepest issues and fears are placed on another, while we unconsciously ask them to carry them for us. In turn we may despise this other person, find fault with them, disagree with them, and overall find their company disturbing and uncomfortable.

We can stay attached to our petty tyrants for years. We begin our lives with them, in our parents, our teachers, our siblings, our childhood friends and foes. Often they follow us into adulthood, deeply embedded inside us. Along for the ride they find new residence in others we meet and interact with, in those we marry and have relationships with.

In my book, The Man in the Woods, book one of The Recapitulation Diaries, I write of my process of facing the petty tyrants that had haunted and controlled me far into adulthood. I confronted not only people but also ideas, thoughts, and beliefs that had been ingrained in the natural process of growing up in the family and society I encountered during childhood.

Later, in adulthood, with those conventions still active, I lived steeped in great inner conflict. Uncertain as to what was so wrong with me, I nonetheless knew that I was deeply wounded. However, I could not allow myself to attach much significance to that deep inner truth, for I had been taught that it was selfish to even think about the self in any way. Time and thoughts were meant to be utilized in the rational world, in being part of an external world that I found deeply disturbing.

It was not until I faced the disturbing world inside myself that I was finally able to release myself from that disturbing outer world that I just could not find a foothold in. Through recapitulating everything about myself, by allowing myself to be selfish enough to do deep inner exploration, I found my way through a myriad of false impressions and beliefs. Fully conscious, I faced and did battle with all manner of petty tyrants during my recapitulation. I reconnected with my inner spirit, the quiet one within, who had been calling to me for decades, asking me to find her again and live her life, a life of individuality and freedom, open to a far greater world than the conventional, rational, fearful one I had grown up in.

I think I did a pretty good job of recapitulating, so that when I recently found myself being challenged to react in an expected way, I immediately recoiled. “No, I don’t think that way at all!” But in the next second I found myself stumbling before this mighty view of reality. I faltered in the face of expectation that, of course, I would give the correct, pat answer, that I would agree, conventional boundaries upheld, the world as it should be, undisturbed.

In the second that I stumbled, I became inarticulate, and the inner child self immediately stepped in and asked that old question, “Oh dear, am I bad? Am I heartless, cold and unfeeling because I don’t think like that anymore?”

Now I see that I was set up to confront the decisions I make every day as I continue my journey. I have been offered such freedom as I have shed old world structures and ideas that I no longer believe in or care to uphold. No, I was being challenged to more firmly realize just how committed I am to my path.

The path is very clear.

For a short while my foot wavered as I lifted it, ready to take my next step. Where would I put it down? Would I let it fall back in an old world, simply for convention’s sake, to appease the petty tyrant? Or would I let it fall solidly on the path I have been on for so long now, committed to following my spirit, in spite of what others might think of me? Could I shed my ego in more ways than one, inflated ego and deflated ego alike, and stay true to my evolving spirit self?

As I put my foot firmly down on my spiritual path, solidly aligned with my recapitulating self, I also acknowledged the role of the petty tyrants in my life. Those petty tyrants do indeed still step out of the shadows and challenge me. Some of them I am used to. I meet them regularly enough and I am rarely thrown by them. But there are others, friends and strangers alike, who offer more abrupt and unexpected challenges. And then the question becomes, whom do I disappoint, them or my spirit? I choose the path of my spirit every time, even if it takes me a few days to realize that I have been wavering, confused, doggedly pursued by a petty tyrant.

Now, having recognized the situation for what it was, I am once again back on track, seeking balance in this world while simultaneously exploring the meaning and possibilities that lie ahead, in this world and all worlds.

As boundaries between worlds constantly dissolve, I find that we are all petty tyrants, to ourselves as well as to others. We challenge as much as we are challenged. Can we accept ourselves in such roles? In addition, I have discovered that my inner spirit is my own greatest petty tyrant, the quiet one within who constantly challenges me to keep questioning and keep questing. Who are your petty tyrants and how do they challenge you?

Recapitulating in everyday life is the way to keep changing and growing, to stay connected to the quiet one within, the inner spirit self who, we discover, knows all.

Much love to you all, as you take your journeys,

Jan