Friday, September 29, 2023

Swimming in Expansions; Drowning in Contractions

To experience the quantum field—the eternal sea of consciousness—
is to fall in love with the universe and to know that a
consciousness that is cosmic pervades
every living thing
and
every living being.

~Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

The sacred is experienced as feeling. It is the felt
consciousness of the heart.

To experience the sacred is to experience the
very nature of consciousness itself.

Betty J. Kovács


Wednesday, the 27th, 5:30am 

Hi Nora,

Oh wow. Here I am once again bowled over with what has come into my field. My body is humming with energy flowing through it. Another podcast, this one with a psychologist named Rachel Harris, whose newest book is called Swimming in the Sacred, (what a title!) which features the stories of twelve female elders of the underground psychedelic therapy movement! Wow. Right away they talk about the differences between the men (the interviewer is a man) that are part of this work and the women, and wow again, I only ever want to work with a woman, and even then, not just any woman. I've only listened to ten minutes and already there is so much that has me bursting with excitement. So much buzzing with excitement I'm having a hard time holding it! 

These elders are more like priestesses. They're not therapists but worked on themselves for many years first and continue to, they sit in the ceremony and they maintain the sacred space. To them the plants are sacred and have spirit. They don't think like therapists, they don't think in terms of solving issues, they look for transformation. They work in conjunction with therapists and refer people who want a therapist, but they're not there as a "therapist." They are like spiritual warriors, with their own healing journeys, including with the plant medicines, continuing on and on. They are connected to a network of other people they can call and consult and talk with. 

They find that in many instances with psychedelics, the childhood stuff just falls away. The psychedelic process really can shift the whole story in a way that is not really understood. (This has been my sense in the past few days.) It's like the psychic space gets bigger and the childhood history occupies a smaller space of it. 

(Here is my newest dream/fantasy: that you are somehow with me in the psychedelic session.) 

I'm so eager to read her book! 


Thursday morning~

This morning I meditated for the very first time in years. Not because I told myself I should or it would be good for me, etc., but because I wanted to. I wanted to find some kind of sound that could help me relax and feel into all of this that is new in my life. It was wonderful and I can't wait to do it again! It was a meditation soundscape with rain, singing bowls and binaural beats. Beautiful. 

(I did think about how in the past repeated meditation has brought depression. It seems to me that if that happens, it's a good opportunity to be with that and see where it might want to take me.) 

Yesterday sitting outside a sweet, little Bewick's wren made its way through the little Japanese maple to the birdbath. I was only 5-ish feet away. As it turned and began to hop away, it landed right on the top of my large Quan Yin's head!! It was only a split second before it hopped onto the little fence but it was the most perfect thing ever, it's little feet right there on her head. 


Friday morning~

You're on your way or already in London as I write this. I hope you're feeling better. 

So, what goes up must come down, right? Or, for every expansion there is an equal and opposite contraction. At least in the healing/birthing process. Yesterday on the ipad with Faye, Katie was just so dismissive and mean with Faye that she cried. It brought me so much pain. Pain that stabbed like a knife right in my heart. Katie has loved babies her entire life, I never dreamed she could be such an unkind and hurtful mom. Or that another baby would be born and he would be the light of her life to the extent that Faye almost ceases to exist. (Oh my god, generational wound right there.) They are so alone up there in the mountains, Faye must feel so alone at those times, and others. Not even any friends. Not going to actual school to meet kids. I know these are all "stories" that keep repeating that prolong the suffering. And also they're true. I also know that for my own little five-year-old, Katie becomes my mom instead of my daughter who is also suffering but doesn't even know it. After we hung up the pain came on and was with me for the rest of the day, and still this morning tears come easily as I write this. It is intense and I know that is because it hits right at my own mother wound. History really is repeating itself. I mean almost exactly. And I get really mad at Katie and blame her. And I don't want to do that. 

Then Annie tells me that she's planning to send cards to her "cousins." Cindy's kids, Matthew and Edrea, whom she has not seen in decades. WTF? I was really surprised, but tried to be neutral and supportive. She has the right of course. But it just feels like such a betrayal. First, they are not people in her life and haven't been since they were kids. But more, I've never been allowed to even talk to her about it, I've never gotten any sympathies from her for my loss and now she's going to send them condolences cards? I guess I'm pretty mad at both of my kids right now. I didn't share any of this with her, just tried to be supportive but she could tell that it didn't hit me well and she did apologize for telling me and realized she shouldn't have told me and said that if I want she won't tell me if/when she sends them. I said that would be best. 

I wish I was the one on vacation. Truly. From everything. 

Theres one good thing, Nora. The winter birds are back! And early! I heard the Northern Flicker call a few days ago and was so surprised. I think last year they were much later, maybe even November. Then the last couple of days I've seen birds that last winter I hadn't realized were winter birds but now realize seeing them again that I haven't seen them in months. Fledgling birder! It's honestly a joy to welcome them back again, to realize that they've had to travel distances to get here and how wonderful it is. And how much I've missed seeing them. I mean I realized I wasn't seeing them but just thought maybe they were busy tending to their young. But no. They're back. So many of the birds that I met and grew to love last year. Not only the flickers, but white-crowned sparrows, golden-crowned sparrows; some I didn't see but Merlin heard, like cedar waxwings. What an incredible thing migration is. 

No fog this morning so Poppy and I are going to head out. I think to our local creek today, the one that runs year around. It's so amazing after all the rain last year. So many water plants growing and still plenty of water. I sit and watch so many birds land on the reeds, then on the little rocks and take a nice long drink. Even acorn woodpeckers which are usually high up in the old oak trees. 

I've never been to London except twice to take a bus between Heathrow and Gatwick to catch our connecting flights to and from home and Paris. I look forward to hearing about it. I hope it's good for you. 

Oh. I've changed a setting on the comments and am hoping that you can now comment with no problem. Fingers crossed.

With Love

💗🙏🏻☺️


A little PS after sent: I'm really tired of carrying the responsibility for the trauma of this family alone. I'm really tired of living my whole life folding myself up like a pretzel in the quest for the contours of atonement. They are both adults. They both know about therapy and the healing journey. Much more on this I'm sure when you return.  

Below: mourning dove, white-crowned sparrow, song sparrow, and the best hummingbird shot I’ve gotten!





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