Tag Archives: spirituality

morning pages

What is humanity doing? Where have we gone terribly wrong?

The news flattens me, daily.

Robin Williams’ suicide.

The plight of the Yazidi, annihilated by a terrorist group calling itself the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. The Yazidi aren’t the only ones dying in droves at their hands. Or those dying at the hands of the Militia operating there. I often wonder what kind of a religion can so effectively remove empathy and compassion from the hearts of its followers, and rationality from their minds.

I read an in-depth article on Edward Snowden published by Wired magazine. It was fascinating to read about how in the name of security and self-protection, the basic rights of so many civilians are being violated on an ongoing and daily basis (and there is apparently no monitoring mechanism in place to keep the honest people, monitoring the honest, honest).

I read about the latest happenings in Ferguson and what feels like a shift in what is viewed as fundamental human rights, sides being taken and so far from meeting somewhere in the middle that it feels like pre-MLK era mindset.

I think about the situation in the Ukraine, and wonder how someone could think that plundering a tube of mascara from the luggage of the downed Malaysian flight would be a good, ethical, thing to do. Who would want to use someone else’s used mascara anyway? The depravity goes on an on.

If I were god (if there was a god and I could step into god’s shoes for even a moment) I’d wonder where my children (if in fact we were in some way, directly or indirectly, the offspring of such a creator) had gone wrong, or more importantly, I would question what kind of parent I was, and where I’d failed with my parenting.

Clearly all of the various religious writings and all of the institutions upon which they are based, have somehow failed humanity. I think, perhaps, that humanity has essentially failed itself.

Have we not learned anything, over the many millennia that we have inhabited this green and blue dot?

My heart breaks. I want to keep the faith. I want to believe in humanity’s capacity for great and wondrous and beautiful things.

But daily my heart sinks. I turn to the little things that make me smile, like my writing or making little bits of art, or a walk around the inlet right by my neighbourhood – surrounded by green, with feet rhythmically pounding the dirt trails. I feel a little better, even if worry flares up about the tons of nuked water from the coast of Japan flooding the Pacific ocean and somehow affecting (in a way which we have yet to adequately determine) the ecosystem we rely upon and of which we are by our presence within it an integral part.

Then I get THIS in my inbox.

The sentiments oddly reflect my own.

The paralysis of concern combined with the inability to know what empowered action to take is a weighty one. What DO we do when we feel disengaged and downright helpless?

Maybe taking small, measurable but consistent, steps is a place to start. Maybe it all starts at home, in our backyards, and maybe, given time, the effects will ripple out wide enough to effect global change.

And to quote something from Jim Carrey’s commencement speech he gave earlier this year:

“Take a chance on faith — not religion, but faith. Not hope, but faith. I don’t believe in hope. Hope is a beggar. Hope walks through the fire. Faith leaps over it.”

Adriane xo

not-so-morning pages… Easter Sunday

Tulip center

Being alone a lot creates a sort of inner conversational vacuum that begs to be filled.

It’s Easter. If I celebrated such things, it would be a meaningful day. Instead, as I have been flirting with the divine on a semi-regular basis these last couple of days anyway, today is no different than the last few, I suppose.

This, however, is a relatively new re-connection after a lengthy hiatus. It’s weird to reconnect after such a long time. It’s also weird (considering our previous hot and heavy association) that I hadn’t recognized it for what it was sooner, but The Universe has been longing for a chat – who am I to ignore the invitation once I recognize it for what it is?

Mind-boggling dreams are coming to me again. After a spell of not any of them, I am beginning to recall them once again. I recorded one from this morning in my dream log and as I always do, I wonder where they come from. Are they a mish-mash of a crossed wire jumble of memory fragments, wishes, thoughts, unprocessed emotions, or do they come from another source altogether, with soul messages that it would behoove me to pay attention to?

I watched a video this afternoon on YouTube addressing the sacredness of the male-female sexual union, and how as long as we relate to it in purely a physical gratification sense, we are missing the point (or perhaps the potential) of the immensely powerful raised energy that is involved in this alchemical process.

It also said that someone alone (male or female) can not hope to attain the level of exaltation achievable by a couple united in the act. If this were in fact to be the case, I am deeply saddened because I am now (and may well perhaps forevermore be) alone – uncoupled. I remain hopeful that my moving to a higher level of consciousness is not dependent upon a perpetual and current co-creator.

If that were the case, what happened to Mary Magdalene (assuming  – indulge me – that she a) existed; b) was his wife; and c) achieved higher consciousness through this union) after the passing of Jeshua? If the connection is established, or the process set into motion, can it be undone by disuse or the loss of the partner? I wonder.

Years ago I had a most profound experience. As with most of these experiences, they are a) difficult to articulate, and b) leave you wondering whether you had momentarily lost your mind or fabricated the whole experience (for whatever reason, and there could be many).

I was studying massage therapy and had spent a lot of time both giving and receiving massage. During my training I had to put in a certain number of hours of practicum upon volunteers in order to obtain my certificate. I have to be honest and note here that my marriage at the time was crumbling apart. This is not that story, though, so whatever was wrong with it, and whatever was the cause of the crumbling, I will not discuss it here.

Initially, what had prompted me to want to do massage work in the first place was to extend a portion of the public that was in dire need of, but never receiving, compassionate touch. I wanted to learn Touch Therapy so I could administer it in hospice or to the aged, those deemed untouchable or for the most part abandoned and forgotten. I did end up with a massage technician certificate – even worked for a little while trying to earn a living at it – but decided to return to the desk job that I had been doing prior to that, never carrying out the initial plan that had spurred me toward studying it in the first place. But this isn’t about that story, either.

This particular story speaks to an experience of awakening that I can’t really describe or explain, and a sort of connection with the divine which defiantly waxes and wanes like the tide but never completely abandons me.

Around the time I was in massage school and in the midst of the unravelling of my marriage as well a number of other stressors in my life, I had started to attend Lutheran church services with my husband’s aunt in an effort to regain a sense of balance. As my flailing marriage faltered further still, I had resorted to reaching outward because I was clearly unable to mend it by myself. The sermons brought me some peace, and moved me to tears regularly (but scripture – no matter whose it was – have done that to me all my life). I longed for the same spiritual transcendence that I experienced in a spiritual context within my marriage but simply didn’t know how to achieve it. So I grew focused more deeply on Christ, and transferred my loving heart energy that my husband chose not to accept to a higher place.

I will also admit that I was extremely attracted to someone that I has working with at the time. I was so keenly aware of my attraction to him that I was in a constant state of turmoil, embattled with what every cell was crying to reach out for and another part busily reigning it back in. If nothing else I was doggedly loyal to my marriage vows and not only was I a married party at the time, but for a good part of it so was he, though neither of us happily. He came to chat with me often, and in mutual commiseration we shared our confusion and the stories of our respective marital discord.

So when this fellow agreed to be a volunteer and receive an hour long massage session, I was both elated and terrified. I didn’t want him to know about how I felt, mostly because I was terrified that he would either a) act on it or b) reject me, which would lead to humiliation. This growing sense of intermingled desire and love grew into this huge ball of energy that I carried around with me all the time. I had to work really hard at pulling it all in and staying grounded, but what proceeded to transpire during an hour long practice massage session was something that I can’t really adequately put into words (though I will try).

Prior to starting massage work we were taught to ground ourselves, plugging in to the earth’s core and pulling in, with breath work, universal energy which would in turn get channelled from our hands. This process was put in place in order to keep our energy from getting depleted or so intermingled that we would be affected afterwards by what we picked up energetically from the people we worked on. During this session I did this as I normally would, but because of the previously mentioned added component, I also took care to filter my immense desire through my heart chakra prior to directing the energy out of my hands in order to imbue it with the highest possible integrity.

As the session progressed, a part of me felt like I wasn’t there anymore – even though I was grounded I felt pulled up to a higher state of energetic being-ness and so flooded with universal love that I was sure I must have been shining with the light of a million suns. It was mind boggling, to say the least.

Not long after this we both left the company we worked for and lost touch.

As I was rifling through an old business card holder last week, I found one with his name on it, and I wondered what had come of him so I did an online search. I was saddened to learn that he had passed on in 2010. I gathered from the obituary that he had remarried and had left behind a wife, a total of four children and a large extended family.

It is at this point that I will circle back around to the idea of the transcendental nature of sexuality, love and pairings. If indeed we are to only experience this sort of unity with a single person during a single lifetime, what happens when someone dies, or when the experience occurs with someone other than the person you are matrimonially tied to or who you have not even engaged with sexually? Is that even possible? And if it is, how is it any less valid as a spiritual awakening than one between a couple or those that they say the saints have experienced through ecstatic union with the divine?

In any case, something this profound changes you, maybe not immediately but certainly over time. Oh hell, definitely immediately too, but compounded with many other experiences – prior to and after this one – throughout the course of living our lives, I imagine how we perceive life on this earthly plane of existence must also subsequently change.

This leads me to the next bit of inner conversational vacuum. The video I watched spoke of how this third dimension was brought forth by the carnal indulgence in the pleasure brought forth by this rising creative energy rather than its more exalted spiritual cousin which focuses this same energy upward to higher levels of consciousness without dissipating it through orgasm, implying that this very act brought about the fall of mankind from the spiritual realm into the physical one.

This idea isn’t a new one to me, but I continue to vacillate on what to do with the information.

There are so many differing schools of thought on this, each ready to vilify the other(s); apparently we can not have our cake and eat it too.

The alternatives as they are presented appear to be:

  • disown our physical aspect, maintaining it in it’s optimal form as a purified vessel which allows us to connect to the energy from which we have come but not use it or become attached to any pleasurable experiences which the vehicle offers (it’s like getting a Cadillac with electric windows, air-conditioning and a full set of speakers and choosing to crack the windows just a little bit to get the airflow going on your drive through the desert so you don’t suffocate but making sure not to ease into actually enjoying the experience, and turning on the transistor radio in your pocket instead of blasting the music through the car’s speakers all the while carefully keeping it scratch free and buffed with Armoral, fed on a steady diet of high octane fuel and brought it in for regular tune-ups);
  • revel in this thick and juicy material beingness with every cell and breath (effectively consciously using this creative carnal energy to bend the material world at will but also cutting off from that incredibly powerful heart connection that one can achieve only through genuine and pretty much self-sacrificing love for the divine); or
  • attempt to bridge the gap in some way between the two extremes by walking a thin line between asceticism and full indulgence (though effectively never really achieving the sort of results the ascetics do in relation to elevated consciousness, or the manifestation results that those who have consciously engaged with the kundalini energy and learned how to bend it to their will).

Desire. It is the key operating word in this program.

What also strikes me in this (hypothetical) meandering is if the angelic host were already aware of this experience (indulge me, for a moment, in assuming that they exist), what have they done to mitigate these same dilemmas that they surely must also encounter? Why is physicality such an appealing state of being? Why is its opposite? Is one better than the other, or are they merely different sides to the same coin? Do we have the simultaneous option of both? Will the existence of one preclude the proper existence of the other? Can the two not comfortably co-exist – why or why not?

I’ve never been a simple girl. I’ve been asking questions (perhaps not these exact ones, but ones of similar ilk) for a very long time now, but have yet to come up with any really good answers.

I’d like an operating manual please, and a statistical run-through of probable outcomes.