gizmos, gadgets, and the doctor of souls

A year or so ago, I read something that really made me think. The author made a statement to the effect that human beings have become so distrustful of our own natural abilities that we keep inventing new gadgets and gizmos to do what we can already do ourselves. Essentially, we don't need graphing calculators, because our own brains are already that powerful; we don't need to invent holographic projectors, because we are already skilled in projecting all sorts of images (namely, the illusion of reality, of which we are master weavers).

I find that I have this idea at the back of my head now when reading about new technologies -- especially new healing technologies. As a healer, I love the idea that researchers and scientists are harnessing natural forces such as bioelectrics to reverse the effects on the body and mind of so much electrical "noise" and various forms of radiation that we have been creating with increasing frequency (no pun intended). I love the fact that healing systems are being developed around light and sound to access otherwise blocked parts of the mind, to help free people from the prisons they have built up around themselves. And I find it interesting that a new industry is being built up around protecting us from the other industries we've already built up.

I wonder if so many new gadgets are really necessary. The body is a big, bad healing machine. Its natural restorative abilities are simply amazing, if we'd only get our minds and lifestyles out of the way and let the body get to work. While I'm still trying to wrap my logical left-brain around the idea of energy healing modalities, I've been studying and using many of these practices for years, with great results, both personally and with clients. Similarly, acupressure has provided relief to countless people across the globe. Emotional Freedom Technique is another wonderful advancement that takes advantage of naturally occurring connections -- in this case, the body's energy meridians -- to promote healing and well-being.

Yet new gadgets and gizmos are cool! They've got all sorts of flashy lights, bright colors, and promises of release, relief, and enlightenment, if we'd only just buy.... And we are such well-trained consumers. Happiness is just another credit card swipe away, right? It is very possible that our learned distrust of our own abilities has become so deeply ingrained that we're not currently able to make full use of what is otherwise naturally at our disposal -- i.e., we've thought our way into not being able to use the true power of our own minds and bodies.

Have we become so distracted by three-dimensional technology that the only way to reverse the damage is to use more three-dimensional technology?

It's all quite confusing, and I admit I'm feeling rather conflicted. I firmly believe that our aging process and various ailments are the result of belief systems, rather than physical necessity. I firmly believe that the outside world (including the physical body) is created as a reflection of the inner mind. And I readily admit that I don't have anything approaching mastery over that inner mind, that I suffer aches and pains, and that I am surrounded by all sorts of environmental waves and electromagnetic fields that no doubt affect me and over which I do not have conscious control. Living as a Westerner, with all of the enticements and distractions of this gadget-rich world, I'm not sure that a dedicated practice of meditation and yoga is going to do the trick. Is investing in new technology to ward off the effects of existing technology the way to go?

I am reminded of an "intuitive flash" I received a number of years ago. I get these bursts of wisdom every so often, and the good news is that they appear to come with increasing frequency over time. Around 1998, I understood in no uncertain terms that my work is as a "doctor of souls." What has been uncertain, however, is precisely what "doctor of souls" means, or how I am to go about walking that path. This is not the kind of thing you can go to school to study -- at least, not in any mainstream academic program with which I am familiar. This is entirely experiential, hands-on learning, and much of the wisdom gleaned is necessarily subjective.

What I am beginning to understand, as I run across more and more of these new healing technologies is that perhaps these gadgets and gizmos can serve to train us in the abilities we already have -- very much the way a baby uses a walker -- so that we are gradually able to let go of these devices as they teach us to use what is already ours. Maybe it's my job to play trial and error with the different systems that come along, and to share what I learn, both successes and frustrations. I cannot be much of a teacher if I am not also the eternal student.

So as I try out various methods and products, I will be writing about them -- blogs, articles, and books -- though I don't know that I'll be conducting any truly scientific research any time soon. But I am looking forward to the journey.

revenge of the sith

Spoiler alert: Although I think it's pretty obvious how the characters must progress in Star Wars episode III in order to properly set up episode IV, I still want to alert readers to the explicit detail offered below. I don't want to upset your movie-going experience, so I'll understand if you want to wait until after seeing "Revenge of the Sith" yourself before reading on.

It is hard to say goodbye.

I acknowledge that the movie left me feeling rather empty, simply because it is the very last one. This is it. No more. Maybe that's the real reason I'm frustrated with it, and even feel disloyal in offering criticism. I'm a Star Wars true believer. Even though I don't go to conventions or show up at the theatre in costume -- and that this was my first midnight opening -- I still remember being seven years old, sitting in the theatre waiting for "A New Hope" to begin, and I was hooked from the beginning. The pair of trilogies comprise an impressive body of work by any standards, and as an adult I doubly appreciate the careful incorporation of the collective mythologies that define who we are -- just as these movies provide a common foundation defining our culture.

Although the theatre management had stated that they would not allow any queuing up for the midnight show prior to 11:30pm, we showed up at 10:30pm to find that they'd already started seating for the 12:01am showing (for which we had tickets) and had set up lines for the 12:40am and 12:50am shows. We grabbed the only seats we could find, which naturally landed us in the second row, where the screen feels as though it's about seven inches from your face. Not the best way to see such an action-packed flick! I knew we were in trouble from the very beginning, when we had to turn our heads from side to side just to read the opening text as it scrolled up the screen.

Ah, the movie. "Revenge of the Sith." Fantastic special effects as always. I was less than impressed with the storytelling, with too many loose ends tied up too neatly, too conveniently, too quickly, with other holes left gaping. It's not that the movie needed to be longer, but it could have used its time better. Lucas has never been stellar at dialog, so I always cut him slack there, but this was just sloppy storytelling. Not that I'm any master story-teller myself, but as I writer I do tend to expect more.

The point where the story lost me -- or when I gave up -- was when Anakin Skywalker rockets, in the space of only about twenty seconds, from "What have I done?!" to "I pledge myself to your teachings" (kneeling before the Chancellor/Emperor). Sure, he'd been heading down this path for a good while, but the transformation in his own mind was too sudden, even with the pitfalls of his own ambition and with the pressures of "you are the chosen one" having been rammed down his throat most of his life.

Granted, with "Episode II: Attack of the Clones," I had to view the movie a few times before the characters really grew on me, before I could begin to believe there might actually be something between Anakin and Padme, and that Anakin wasn't just a cardboard brat. I saw "Attack of the Clones" eight times -- eight times! -- in the theatre, when I never go to a movie more than once.

I also noticed that Padme's stage of pregnancy kept shifting: kind of pregnant, then really pregnant, then mostly pregnant, and back again. She never is large enough to produce two, fully developed (looked full-term) babies, though she is supposed to be delivering prematurely. Not to mention the "She's lost her will to live" fiasco. So she's just going to deliberately die and abandon her children? What parent makes that choice, regardless of the betrayal by the other spouse? Yet the newly risen Vader, who swore up and down that he simply couldn't live without Padme, soldiers on rather nicely even when he believes he himself killed his wife.

On her deathbed, Padme seems to pull the kids' names out of thin air. I would have appreciated knowing where those names had come from, as well as how the Chancellor came up with "Vader" for his new apprentice, even if he had been planning this transformation all along. Still, we don't know what scenes got cut in the interest of time.

In "Return of the Jedi," Leia remembers her real mother, Padme, as being very beautiful but sad. After seeing "Revenge of the Sith," I'm trying to figure out how the newborn would have been left with such a strong impression immediately after her birth, particularly since her eyes hadn't yet opened. Perhaps this is just an indication of the strength of the force with young Leia.

See, now I'm working myself into a place where I want to go see "Revenge of the Sith" again right now, even though I was convinced earlier that I didn't want to sit through another show any time soon. I just want this movie to make sense, dammit! I earnestly hope my opinion will change after additional viewings of "Revenge of the Sith," and that I can wrest greater consolation and meaning from this final installment -- not so close to the screen, though, please.

keep on keeping on

I have been concerned about the lack of motivation in my life lately – at least, what I have seen as a lack of motivation. I simply haven't felt inclined to really push to get a lot done in the past couple of weeks. I've also been having trouble sleeping, as many of my friends have, as well. It has been suggested to me that this all may have something to do with May Day / Beltane, though I like to blame it on the switch to daylight savings time (I much prefer standard time), and the massive energy shifts that just don't seem to quit.

Given that I'm prone to introspection, I've begun to ask myself when was the last time I was honestly – and consistently – excited about my life. I suppose I keep waiting for some deep revelation of higher meaning, for a door opening onto the important role I might be destined to play. This is not a matter of inflated self-importance: I have no desire to be well-known, or anything ostentatious. But I do want to feel the reassurance of being part of something significant, part of an effort that is breaking down barriers in consciousness and understanding. Certainly, just being in a body on this rock is enough of a presence to have a real impact, but I realize I've been looking for more tangible feedback. I want to know that I am a contributing member of a team working toward something that truly makes a revolutionary difference.

When I was in high school and wanted to be an astronaut, it wasn't so much about wanting to fly in rocket planes – although that would have been pretty cool; instead, I had more of a desire to explore other worlds and to make contact with other beings, to help pave the way for our branch of humanity joining a more universal network of life and awareness. I found myself increasingly impatient with the slow pace of NASA's program, continuing to focus on little more than satellite launches and low-gravity experiments when the entire universe beckons. I was interested in breaking down our self-imposed limitations, and in pushing forward.

So I turned instead to religious studies and healing work.

I want to contribute toward healing hearts and minds across the globe (and beyond, as applicable), toward awakening consciousness and greater spiritual and scientific (metaphysical?) knowledge and understanding. I want to be a midwife for the inspiration of love and light waiting for each of us. (And if along the way I get to fly in a rocket plane or slide through an intergalactic wormhole, so much the better.)

Alas, this is difficult to do when I have such trouble maintaining that inspiration within myself, even if only for the time being. I am simply not certain how to even begin approaching such lofty aspirations. And yet I soldier on; sometimes, just to 'keep on keeping on' is the best any of us can do.

May Day / Beltane

In honor of May Day on Sunday (yesterday, for those who are keeping track), one of my gal friends here in Portland had recommended that we go see the Morris Dancers in Washington Park's Rose Garden. Of course, they were performing at dawn — ack! — so I got up at 4:30 am to walk the dogs and then to carpool over to the mountain.

I am SO glad we did this! The early morning weather was perfect: no rain, and temperatures slowly creeping from the mid-40s into the low 50s. I admit that I'd not heard of Morris dancing before, or if I had, I hadn't remembered. These are traditional country dances from the English countryside, and Sunday's hour-long performance was intended to help the sun come up and to celebrate the fertility of the season.

Here's the website for the Morris dance groups in Portland:
http://www.portlandmorris.org/


Beltane is, of course, one of the fire festivals in the pagan calendar or wheel of the year, and this day is traditionally filled with fertility rites to encourage a plentiful harvest.

We started with a group May pole — an ages-old phallic symbol, with the dance curiously practiced annually by private girls' Christian schools (including the alma mater of yours truly). As everyone was invited to participate, you know I jumped right in. Many of the May pole dancers were new to the activity, and in the early morning hours there was some confusion and quite a few traffic jams. Afterwards, the three Morris troupes took over and did a great job enticing the sun up over the horizon. I was impressed by the large number of dancers, and their enthusiasm for the dance. Lots of high jumps! They are quite athletic. It was fairly evenly split between men and women, with the rose and "knife" dancing done solely by the women.

The spectators were also entertaining, as many had dressed up for the occasion: lots of kilts and cloaks (on the men), children with fairy wings, and flowery women. One kilted man caused quite a stir amongst my lady friends (though they might balk at being called "ladies"), as there was a question as to whether there was anything beneath his kilt. Sitting on the stone steps with knees apart, he afforded just enough of a view to titillate sordid speculation. I plead ignorance, as the hammered dulcimer was convenienly blocking my line of sight.

There was one guy covered completely in green paint and a conical, leafy frame, dressed as a shrub — quite convincingly, too, as when he would squat down, he blended perfectly into the garden. Our Green Man was otherwise roaming about dabbing people's faces with green sparkle paint in honor of the day.

And, I got to meet an Alaskan husky dog named Odin, and Odin's owner, of course. As the proud pet of an Alaskan myself, I was prepared for Odin's excited greetings — I think that dog may have actually stuck his tongue in my mouth, not to mention all of the damp grass he spread across my trousers.

The only thing that was missing was the media. Not that I would have wanted a bunch of cameras and pesky, sleep-deprived reporters getting in the way, but it would have been nice for more Portlanders to have been able to share in this event, even if vicariously.

This was the best May Day/Beltane! Who knew you could have this much fun outside for free at dawn (with your clothes on)? I want to do this every May Day for the rest of my life! (Or, at least, I want to go back again next year.)