A Thanksgiving to Remember: You're Invited, Bring the Turkey.

 

THE TRANSITIONS HOTEL

This is the time of year when we often think of our ancestors, and of friends we love who are deceased. I am going to share an ongoing experience I have of a meeting place between the worlds.  I regularly dream of a place I have come to call The Transitions Hotel. It is a large grey stone structure, on a city street, with huge beautiful glass doors. I could describe, in vivid detail, the street the shops and restaurants which I have gone to in the dreamspace, and even the small indoor ‘mall’ with its shops and shopkeepers.

 But that’s not what’s remarkable about The Hotel. What’s remarkable is that it is a place in the Between where the newly dead can acclimate to their new existence, where the living can come to meet with those who have crossed, where people who may be close to death can visit and where the living and dead alike take 'classes' about the nature of reality, and about the transition between living as an embodied being and living after the body quits. It’s a meet-up location in the Bardo. I have been there so often I sometimes find myself in The Hotel during meditation when I am fully awake. It is fascinating, not at all a frightening place. I have been shown amazing things about weather, the nature of reality and the way our energies

 I  once dreamed I met a friend that was lost and afraid, looking for a ride. He was someone I’d never known to be afraid of anything. He got in my car and I knew I needed to take him to The Hotel. He was greeted warmly and welcomed by staff who led him inside and when they went in through a side door, I saw for an instant that on either side of the door, there were beautifully rendered barely visible drawings of Anubis. Several days later, I found out that this friend, that I had not seen or heard from for 8 months, was  at home in hospice care and dying from very aggressive cancer that was only recently discovered.  I was glad that I got to see him in the Dreaming, and know he was being cared for. Most of my experiences at The Hotel aren’t that dramatic, but I wanted to share one that had a clear connection in waking life.

 Sometimes, like last night, I’m in ‘mixed company’ and have no idea which people are embodied dreamers and which are those who have crossed.  The courtyard was set up with tables and chairs and we were chatting, waiting for a speaker to begin. It was a talk about helping the living relax about staying in contact with the ‘dead’ (they’re not dead, just without a dense body, so that word, irks some of them) . 

Now, you might think that I have gone ‘round the bend or that I’m delusional or just bat-shit crazy…but…if you have ever had a dream of a deceased loved one, or a feeling that you were being guided or looked after, or a ‘coincidence’ that reminded you of someone who has passed, think again.  I assure you, that there is a great deal that you can do to bridge the gap between the worlds, to relax about death and what comes after, and to more directly have contact with those who have gone before us.

 My friend, Whitley, recently posted a journal entry about his ongoing contact with his recently deceased wife.( http://www.unknowncountry.com/journal/weave-journey-meeting#.VjtbjEpdt8I.facebook ) which inspired me to write this blog. I encourage you to read it.

 You too have the ability to find that place where it is easy to communicate with those who have crossed, and where you can, if you wish, also learn more about the nature of your own soul and the magnificent reality in which we participate. If you want to explore these ideas more deeply, my first suggestion is to start keeping a journal in which you record dreams, coincidences, synchronicities and intuitive experiences.    May your dreams bring you Joy.

 

THE MANY VERSIONS OF OURSELVES

Have you ever stopped to consider how many versions of yourself there have been?  Maybe you can remember a defining moment when you experienced a dramatic shift of Being…becoming a new version of yourself by rising to face a difficulty or because of a deep relationship. Sometimes a defining moment completely transforms us- reshapes our personality in ways we could not have predicted.   I can look back and hardly recognize some of the ways I thought and felt…so afraid, so unable and unwilling to speak up…so quietly deceptive instead of honest and out loud.  And yet here I am today, so very different from some of the versions of myself others knew.

 I have come to have compassion for those versions of myself where once I felt shame or embarrassment.  And that feels good. I have discovered that the more I feel at ease with the versions I once was, the less irritated I am with people who resemble those same attitudes and fears I once held. It has taken me a long time to feel kindness for those other younger selves.

 

I invite you to take some time to think about your other Selves…those versions of you stacked neatly like Russian dolls within your memory, your body -and accept them. Offer them your love and gratitude.  Each time we make a dramatic shift, we take a different turn in the road, while the Old Self keeps marching on without us. Every time we come awake a little more and realize a fear is groundless, or say NO  or YES in new ways , or find ourselves broken open by deep love or by a loss- we have an opportunity to shed a version of ourselves, and let our light shine more brightly.

October always reminds me to turn back and look with fondness and gratitude upon those friends and ancestors now crossed over, who have been and still are part of me- part of my life.  When I contemplate and celebrate those who have gone before me, I also think about the other versions of myself, that in a different way, have faded or transformed to create the person I am today.

When I set out pictures of my loved ones, and bring flowers and candles to the table, I leave a place for the Other Selves…the versions of myself that are no longer who I am. I sometimes wonder if they have continued on in parallel timelines…and if so, I wish them well. May all their gates and paths be open. May our light shine.

HOW MY HOME FOUND ME

I knew I wanted to move- had to move-was itching to move, and yet I couldn’t muster the energy to go through the process of driving around looking at houses, apartments and condos. IN fact just the thought of going through that process gave me the willies. UGH. I was having dream after dream about moving into a new spacious home. Still, I could not make myself go look at a single thing. Instead, I started purging and packing, making my way through every drawer and closet, every book shelf and box, every scarf, shoe and hair clip…every nick knack and picture …until one day, in a fit of overwhelm, I decided to take a break and fled to a coffee house to do a bit of soul searching.

 I sat, I had my coffee…I wrote myself a letter.  I wrote a love letter from the deeper, bigger, Me…all about living in a beautiful and spacious home, deserving to have ease and beauty, kind neighbors and safety, trees right out front and lake very close by , a porch and a deck, a garden, a fireplace and hard wood floors,  I also didn’t want to cut grass or shovel snow…and for the first time since I had the original impulse to move, I believed that I could have exactly what I wanted. I felt something in my body release…like a long held breath but deeper and more visceral. I knew that what I sought also sought me. And I said OK…I am willing to do what it takes physically, mentally and emotionally to move- I can do this. I closed my notebook and stood. I felt a little light headed and dreamy, I felt good.

So, as I was leaving the coffeehouse, I thought, “Oh what the hell-”..and turned to the 3 guys there, and said “Hey-do any of you know about houses for rental or option? I want …(and I listed everything I could think of, imagining I’d get a few chuckles at my laundry list)  and then the Magic happened.   The owner of the coffee house said he knew of a house someone just bought that really fit my description-and- it was right down the street…he asked if I wanted to see the outside- right now.

When I saw the porch with the two big trees shading it, I fell in love. Saw myself sitting on that porch. Saw the lake at the end of the block, and the big double drive, deck, and fenced back yard with raised planting beds. I said, “Yes- call the owner!”

I drove down the street and saw a sign saying “Welcome to Moss Point” and in that instant, I knew absolutely that I was to live on that street. If not in that house, in another…I was scheduled to take level Two Dream Teacher’s Training from Robert Moss and Mosswood Hollow in Seattle at the end of July. I went home and canceled my trip, explaining that I’d be moving to Moss Point that week. And I did. Here are a few of the synchronicities that followed…

• When I went back to meet the owner the next day, it turned out that we knew each other-he’s a local cop that frequented a coffeehouse I also frequented years ago.
• My personal reference, who is my accountant and friend of 25 years, is someone the owner’s wife babysat for more than a decade ago.
• A second house that caught my eye, farther down the block. It was for sale, and I saw it also…as a backup, since the house I loved had two people already asking about it. The other house was same style and color but It had a red door, as did one of the dream houses (and ALL of the other amenities except for a deck).
• I got the call to come discuss a move in date, and was  told that lawn service and snow removal were included (wow wow wow).
• Several neighbors commented that I must be the right person for that house, since the woman who’d lived there previously was named Lark, and I’m Raven.

There are more synchronicities…too numerous to mention here, but all puzzle pieces that kept informing me that I need look no farther. I was (and still am) thrilled.
It's peaceful, spacious and beautiful here.

 

So..that’s how my home found me, it called to me from The Dreaming, got the attention of my Deep Self and fortunately, I listened , communicated, received and acted on the memo.  I am grateful and happy for all those who helped .

THE INVISIBILITY PROBLEM

Gender bias is alive and well and wreaking havoc in our lives. Today I’m going to focus on only one aspect of the long term result of living in a society in which the beliefs and rituals of control and domination perpetuate the use of coercion and violence to settle disputes, manage human relations and affirm masculine identity. 

Violence against women is perpetrated at a shocking rate. In this country, a woman is raped every 4.5 minutes, and assaulted every 90 seconds, and though we know this is happening, very little is being done to examine the issue and provide real solutions.  Violence against women is not a women’s issue…it is a human rights issue, a human problem that involves every adult member of our society.

Why aren’t men’s groups talking about how to rein in the violence, or teaching boys to respect women as equals and as human beings?  Simply put, the male centered society in which we live paints a gender biased picture that warps our ability to address this issue for what it is- a product of the near religious ferver of the belief in domination and aggression as the solution to everything from disputes between countries to disagreements between women and men.

It is invisibility and unconscious acceptance of male privilege and violent ‘solutions’ that makes abuse of women at the hands of men nearly invisible although it happens every day, all day. And I am not interested in male bashing here, so don’t mistake what I’m saying as a condemnation of men.

 Think about this:  If people of color (pick any minority) assaulted whites at the rate that men assault women every day in this country, there would be national mobilization to correct the problem and to ‘contain’ this dangerous population. You know that is true.

It is ironic that women are considered to be the over-emotional, irrational, dramatic and unstable when it is the male of the species that is responsible for the vast majority of all assaults, rapes and murders. And I don’t believe that men are so unable to ‘control their passions’ (anger and sex drive) that women must be trained to be careful about how we dress or where we go…yet, that is exactly the story that we are sold.  Violence against women is talked about as a ‘woman’s issue’ rather than something that has gone terribly wrong within the male population, making the problem nearly invisible to the very men who can make a difference. 

Allan Johnson states: “When we refuse to plainly state that men are the perpetrators, then individual men who are not rapists never have to consider how their connection to male privilege also connects them to the sexual violence of men who are.”  Without the efforts of good men who are willing to interfere, educate, and deliberately revise the way gender bias and male privilege warps our culture, we will be unable to stop this pattern of violence.

 One of my daughters was raped when she was in college. I was nearly abducted and raped when I was in my 30’s. I know of four women friends were beaten by their husbands, two others who were raped. And that’s just what I know from conversations through the years, who knows what I’d find out if I asked.

 
I am writing about this because I want you, dear reader, to wake from the slumber that society induces. If you are a man, you can make a difference by stepping up, speaking out, talking with other men, mentoring young men and being an advocate for women.  It is your right and responsibility as a man to learn how to solve this terrible issue.   Women, I encourage you to speak up, persist, refuse to be invisible, and tell the truth about your experiences. Together, with men as our allies we can- and must- empower each other to end the pattern of violence.  

TITTERING, TOOTING & TRANSFORMING

Well it has been a fascinating month or so…and I am in that strange ‘between’ place in which the new things I am working on have not fully taken shape, while most of the clients I still had in the aftermath of the accident have completed their coaching.  At the end of May it will be two years, and I am still dealing with the physical, emotional and financial fallout, though I will say that I am finding ways to amuse myself and stay optimistic-excited, even- as I forge ahead.

Take the last ten days for example…I woke with a sore throat on the day I just ‘happened’ to have a follow up doc appointment and discovered I had strep. Yippee. Fortunately,  though I have had  bad reactions , the antibiotic I was given only had one  um, glaring side effect… I had the worst gas –ever. Really, every time I sneezed, coughed, rolled over, bent down, reached for something, or blew my nose- I farted. It became hysterical.   Even though I didn’t get much done, I was definitely  entertained by my own toot-fest, and got through the week with the help of side splitting giggle fits, that followed the long notes of my musical affliction. (assfliction?)

 

Anyway, though I generally don’t  “Toot my own horn” as it were, (sorry) I’m going to share a little of my inner process with you because the new direction I'm heading is very exciting.    Multiple dreams, articles, synchronicities, conversations, books, symbols and intuitions have been guiding me on this journey…and yet there is always the struggle to let go of the old and take on the new.  I have spent wondering if I ought to just stop what I’m doing period. No more coaching.   Work for somebody else. (Ha!) Then my mind clears and I realize that I simply must come to a complete stop before heading in a new direction. And so I have.

 

I am stepping into my life as a Crone, a Grandma, a Wise Woman- and as such I feel called to help restore some measure of balance to the lives I touch and the communities I am part of. To  consciously and deliberately help women and men disentangle from the societal pattern of fear and gender based domination and return to compassion centered relating and problem solving. 

I am being guided and educated ... seeing how we unwittingly participate in the very things we say we loathe, and learning to create clear steps that we can take in our lives, families and communities to make a real difference. We can change our society for the better and restore a measure of hope to the future.  That’s what I want to do. That’s what I am going to do. And I can’t do this by myself.  I am partnering with a like-minded talented friend to co-create communities of support, workshops and much more…. I also invite YOU to join me. The first workshop that will be coming in July.  Stay tuned for more information coming soon. 

 And next time you toot...feel free to think of me and laugh!

THE COMFORT OF BITTER BEANS

Coffee and chocolate both start out as bitter beans, but add the curiosity and ingenuity of humans and they have become two of the worlds most valued and esteemed edibles. If you are a coffee drinker then you know the comfort and pleasure of that first sip of really good coffee. Not only is it delicious, but that little mental boost, that feeling of the film peeling off the eyes, and the deeper awareness of connection, of ‘rightness’ with the world in front of us is also part of our love of coffee. It enhances our desire to think, chat, connect, and that little punch of caffeine is good for relieving that morning congestion.  

The history of coffee stretches back to Ethiopia, and regular use of coffer dates as far back as the 10^th century. By the 16^th century the use of coffee had spread to Turkey and the rest of the Middle east, then spread to Italy, Europe and the Americas. (Thanks Wikipedia)

 

And then there’s Chocolate. Chocolate, the fermented, roasted and ground beans of the Theobroma cacao can be traced to pre-Olmec people with evidence of chocolate beverages dating back to 1900 BC. Yes…that long ago. As a bitter beverage. Chocolate also made its debut in Spain and then spread to all of Europe in the 1500’s. Eventually through the addition of sugar and centuries of experimentation, we have the chocolate we know and love today.

 

Similarly, you either love chocolate or you don’t. .and the soothing, sensual, free radical clearing benefits of good quality dark chocolate are well known.  Comforting ourselves with chocolate, giving it to express love, drinking it on a cold winter’s day, and of course chocolate is a well-known remedy for PMS, winter blues and lost love.  Of course there are now proven health benefits of dark chocolate as well, good for the heart, cholesterol, blood pressure and as we know, boosts our sex drive.

 

So…why am I going on and on about coffee and chocolate?  Something struck me about bitterness…and human nature.  If, instead of judging, ignoring and giving up on harsh or bitter people…we employed our curiosity and ingenuity to uncover what sweet or potent treasure at their core, many times a transformation occurs that lets us see the real person and see their hidden light.  Yes, sometimes it’s hard work…and requires experimentation, letting that curiosity (not judgment, not force) lead the way…just knowing that something’s possible.

People aren’t just bitter beans by nature…something or perhaps many things caused the mind to create a harsh shell to protect a sensitive center. Keep people away then equals saving oneself from pain, rejection, loss, judgment… and yet, with little exception (and yes, there are a few exceptions) most people who are as unpalatable as raw chocolate, are seeking acceptance, kindness.

I have witnessed the transformation of bitter people into the equivalent of a bracing coffee, letting their intelligence and honesty rise to the surface once someone is really listening. And I have known people who, as they found that they were accepted truly seen, that bitter edge became as smooth and delicious as a fine piece of chocolate.

 

So this is my thought…if with such patience and meticulous curiosity we can turn bitter beans into such pleasure and comfort…what could happen if we looked at our fellow human beings with more detached but dedicated curiosity? We might find, that under inside that bitter bean, is something wonderful, delightful and well worth the trouble finding.