Some theta-wave musings

I edited my post from yesterday about my acupuncture session. I think that the brainwave state I entered was theta, not delta, and the reason why I became so certain of this was because as I was sitting down to meditate this morning I re-entered that lovely no-body state within minutes. Although, I noticed that my head wasn't really included--that stayed physical (I have some blockages in my neck channels I think).

I think I've felt the no-physical-body state many times before (like every single night) but until yesterday I didn't quite have a reference point to know what to look for, so I didn't pay attention to it and really embody my etheric form while conscious. Now...I think I can...

I usually pick a couple of goals to "work on" when I'm in the light-trance meditative state. I've been aware that I have a lot of fear about our future as a human race, so I look at that a lot. But when I try to envision what I would like us to move towards together, I have trouble--everything I think of makes me feel fear:

I imagine an earthly paradise--but it would have to involve massive depopulation, and I fear what would happen to all those people. 

I imagine a world where everyone becomes more conscious and makes intelligent choices--but this hasn't an ounce of plausibility for me...and I also have to recognize that unless it's the same choices I would make, I still wouldn't really like the result.

I imagine an ascension process, where our consciousness takes us to a dimension that reflects our inner world of conflict or lack thereof. This is nice but it feels too every-man-for-himself...

I imagine technological innovation to the point that the damage to the earth can be healed and we can start afresh, new worlds discovered so our population can continue to expand. This one is all right, but I've thought that the only way it would really be all right to me is if other people left the world to go to those other planets, so I could stay here and not take the risks. Thinking about my fear of airplanes...it would be about one million times worse to go out into space.

Anyhow, I usually end up just envisioning a goal of how I would like to feel in the future, personally and about my fellow humans and planet, and I don't put any specifics in it because I really don't see how things could improve. But I do notice that in future envisionings, we keep wanting to just obliterate the shadow, and then it grows. 

Then...I was thinking today...what if the shadow we see around us reflects the quality and the quantity of light? so the more sophisticated the demons, that shows the refining of the other side. And perhaps if we focus on not labeling one good and one evil, but instead on the quality of definition that's increasing in light and dark...because the definition, not the amount of light, signifies the growth of consciousness, pure clarity. And it's not about choosing light or dark--it's about simple awareness of the pattern of the whole.

  

My new addiction

I keep thinking about the acupuncture session I had yesterday.

I no longer had jaw pain to work on, but I asked for the same general treatment as I've been receiving. The needles were a little more uncomfortable than usual going in--not the actual pricks, but the electric-numb feeling of the needles contacting the meridians. I was squirmy, as I often am, for a good 20-30 minutes, as tension left my body and I wanted to stretch but was limited in movement by the needles.

And then I went into this altered state in which I could no longer feel my physical body, but I was fully conscious. I've gone into altered states plenty of times before during other sessions, of acupuncture or other kinds of bodywork/energy work, but I've never been so lucid at the same time--most of the time it's closer to sleep, where I'm not really aware of what's going on.

I think my brainwaves had slowed to theta waves--that's the second-slowest speed, what our brains go into just before sleep...I recall I've felt this no-physical-body sensation before at times when I'm on the edge of sleep and floating...but again, never so lucidly.

It was marvelous. I don't think I've ever felt such bliss. I wanted to stay there forever--fully sensing my etheric-energy body and nothing else. When I tried to move, I could feel my energy-body moving first, and very faintly the physical body moving after. When the acupuncturist came in to take out my needles, I wanted to tell him to go away...but I would have to re-engage my physical body in order to do so...and I came out. Still, I was completely high for hours afterward, and I felt like an addict. I felt sad about my eventual death because it would mean I would never feel that again. (under the assumption that the etheric body, as the energetic blueprint and the counterpart of our physical bodies, dissipates a little while after death) The craving I have for that feeling is such that I wonder if it's unhealthy.

I can still kind of connect to that feeling now, but I can't lose the sense of my physical body at the same time.

I bought a Kindle!!!!!!!

When e-readers first came out, I wasn't at all interested. I love physical books, the way they feel in my hands, the act of turning pages, and the ability to flip to the end to make sure it's something I like before I go through the bother of the middle (sacrilege to some but I really don't like sad endings). I also was bothered by the idea of having another piece of technology that would require more energy usage. 

Still, as my library of e-books stored on my computer grew, I eyed e-readers with more interest...and last week I was a victim of a sales blitz and I bought a refurbished Kindle with a $20 off voucher. (Yes I'm a discount whore. I bought it for $49 and am terribly proud of that)

After about two hours of use I knew I was in love. I LOVE MY KINDLE!!!!!!! E-books I haven't touched on my computer suddenly look appealing. I spent my first night with the Kindle awake until 5am. I brought it to the acupuncturist to read while I was waiting for my session. I'm carrying it around with me everywhere because it feels nice in my palm or in my pocket and is just this magical trove of STUFF waiting for me at the touch of a button.

The best thing about it, which offsets the increased energy usage by saving paper, is that I can download my novel in progress to it as a pdf instead of printing it out in hard copy. There's something about reading it NOT on the computer that allows me to see all the places that need revising all the more clearly. And going from the role of a writer to a reader and back helps me bust through the resistance to revising. Now it's easy, easy, easy!

The down side is that I'm seeing way too much that needs revising. I had this idea that by now I'd send off a copy to one small publisher that doesn't accept simultaneous submissions, and while I waited for a response I'd continue to revise for a broader submissions attempt later. But it's nowhere near ready. I consider the editing process complete on my end when I no longer cringe when I read it. My cringe-button is going off every two paragraphs at least, even in my fourth round of revising. Ah well! As impatient as I am, I'm not willing to embarrass myself by standing behind the work as is.

So the plan is to read and revise for four more days, then June jump into revising my other novel-in-progress while I wait for critiques to come in on this one. I also think I should stop re-sending the newest version of the work to people every few days because that is probably annoying.

I am a little concerned about getting something else that will add a smidgeon more EMF bombardment to my life. So I'm going to make some small orgone generators. I'm going to buy some epoxy resin and some metal shavings or bbs and mix it with bits of crystal. I could try to make a small one to glue onto a Kindle cover. 

Tribute to the tongue

Today's post is completely unrelated to writing, and is basically just a wallowing in my specific brand of nerd-dom. I'm really excited by these ideas, though, so I wanted to share...

I've had this book for years, but every time I try to read it I stop when the time comes to do the exercises. One reason is that I'm never going to do some of the basic steps that are required before starting the systematic chakra-clearing exercises--I don't see myself returning to vegetarianism, I can't seem to cure myself of being a night owl, and I've never found someone I want as a guru.

And then there's khechari mudra. Its description is even more off-putting than those of the cleansing practices in which you stand in a river and suck up water into your anus and then expel it, or insert something through your nasal cavities and floss your nose. It involves elongating the tongue over a two-year period and gradually cutting the root/frenulum of the under-tongue until the tip of the tongue can be rolled back and inserted into the nasopharynx. 

I think the five or so times I tried reading this book, I stopped after reading about cutting the tongue.

This time, I've been thinking about it differently. Everything in physical yoga has a correspondence with a solid physiological benefit--for instance, the three bandhas or "locks" performed correctly not only allow energy to flow up and down the spine, but they allow connected movement through the sheets of connective tissue that encircle our organs like webs.   

And in Rolf Movement, the body gains a sense of space and expansion when you give it a context--a sense of up and of down. (this is also why the bandhas are so important--"locking" will create a ceiling and a floor for the body segments above and below) To sense down, you can think of the bottoms of your feet. But to sense up, more effective than thinking of the top of your head, is touching the palate with your tongue.

As I was experimenting with rolling my tongue back towards my nasopharynx, I was thinking about how Ida Rolf's original Rolfing "recipe" always involved taking someone's tongue (with gloved fingers) and pulling it. In my training we didn't do that, so I never incorporated it into my sessions. Now I'm thinking I should have--because stretching the back of my own tongue I can feel, subtly, a stretch down the front of my neck and into my sternum, and when I stick my fingers into the tight muscles alongside my throat (with tongue rolled back) they relax much more easily. So I'm thinking that, like the bandhas, khechari mudra must have postural and other physiological benefits beyond the ones listed here.

So with some research about khechari mudra...it's not necessary to cut the tongue, or even to reach the nasopharynx, so long as mentally you can visualize the tip of the tongue, the uvula, the throat, and the third eye all connected in a circle. See here. Maybe without the cutting and the complete closing off of the cavity with the tongue, I won't ever experience yogic hibernation when I would no longer need to eat or breathe even to stay alive--but I guess I don't really want to do that anyway.

Healing the macro through the micro

It's kind of weird that I seem to have a lot of stress in my body, since I feel that my current life is about the least stressful imaginable. But I guess stress is a learned habit, and years ago when I was forcing myself to do all sorts of things I didn't want to be doing, I developed ways of coping. So I am a teeth-grinder, and every day I wake up with my jaws aching and my back sore.

I started getting acupuncture last week. Apparently there's a new wave of "community acupuncture clinics" that have sprung up along the model of Taiwanese and Chinese medical practice--in which a bunch of people are treated in the same room, each receiving just a few minutes of the doctor's time but unlimited time relaxing with the needles in, and paying a much lower price than for private service. 

I absolutely love this model!!! I've gotten acupuncture before and it always cost between $70-100 per session. These sessions are $20-40 each and are just as good or better in quality. Because of the pricing, I can come more often, which makes the whole thing work, as frequency is a large part of the success of acupuncture treatment.

One of the great things about acupuncture is that no matter what the complaint is, you'll get all sorts of other things treated that you hadn't realized were problems. I came in with a jaw problem and tossed in low energy as well, and I came out feeling clear-headed enough that a writer's block of several days' standing was completely gone (along with the jaw pain). The block was simply me not being in my body enough to write--too many clogged pathways.

So the third draft of my novel-in-progress is finally finished. I removed all the major inconsistencies and for the fourth draft, I'll be working on refining the writing and responding to critiques. I've gone back and forth in my head about whether I want to try to get a traditional publisher at all and I've concluded that I'll attempt just a few who might be open to a story as bizarre as mine, but I won't hold my breath--if I get no bites it'll be off and self-published, and then I'll plunge into the next project. The important thing will always be the writing. 

I'm tentatively planning a return to Brazil in early September. Our house in the ecovillage is still in the planning stage, but has made a lot of progress. For the main building material we'll probably be using recycled bricks from Sao Luis do Paraitinga--the closest medium-sized city to Lagoinha, our old hometown. Two years ago Sao Luis experienced massive floods that leveled parts of town, and houses in ruins still need to have their bricks hauled away. Using those will be cheaper than hauling in dirt and buying earthbags, which was the original plan, and it's also more ecological, aside from the use of the truck hauling the bricks. 

I had this idea that I'd help build the house out of earthbags, and by helping build my own house I'd imbue it with my energy and really make it my sanctuary. But there are other ways I can do that. Like this, from a Facebook friend:

Drill holes in the fence and insert marbles.

Well...I don't think i'm that handy with a drill...but I could insert the marbles.

Suburban zombie dreams

Yesterday someone hacked into my Paypal account. I started getting notifications in my email that various changes were being made, including my taxpayer id, my password, and my security questions, and sure enough, when I rushed over to the site I couldn't get in. I called Paypal and reestablished control over the account, but it was rather stressful.

Today the piece of shit who did that tried to enter the account again, but didn't succeed. That was enough to prod me to change the email address altogether.

Now all my passwords are all so different and so complicated I have this fear I've created an obstacle course in my own Internet usage. But the moral of the story is, don't use security questions that are easy to figure out! There are some nasty empty souls out there waiting to fill themselves up in the reflection of your pain...

In a different sort of crime, I Skyped with my husband today in Brazil and he told me that a friend of his, the owner of his favorite bar in our ex-town, Lagoinha, knifed (to death) some guy who attempted to kill him. This other friend of his who was one of our closest neighbors died sometime in the last few months due to some illness. It's sort of weird--I wonder, in my solipsistic mind, if something about our decision to leave sent a cascade of chaos into that little town, each little incident validating our (well, mostly my) choice. Better to not keep looking back, or someone's going to turn into a pillar of salt.

In my current isolated suburban existence time and space stretch out in a pleasant zombie dream, and I still am struggling through my revision. I have 30 pages left to revise to complete my 3rd draft, which I want to finish before the end of the month. I signed up for a Revision Hell in June and am planning to rewrite my shelved manuscript, "Croak". It's currently 110K words and I'm thinking of writing a much shorter and somewhat experimental version of it and seeing what happens.

A bit of soapboxing about pap smears and vaccines

Today I got my pap smear result back and now it's two years that I've been in the clear with normal cervical cells. This makes me terribly happy, because I had abnormal paps for eight years, sometimes off but more often on (I was denied health insurance because I could never show that I could maintain normal cells for a year and a half). My first frightening diagnosis at age 28 was of severe dysplasia with high-risk HPV--the step before the beginnings of cervical cancer.

I've only ever gone alternative routes in addressing my body's imbalance--from shamanic healings to homeopathic substances, homemade boluses and herbal infusions, psychic work, Anthroposophical injections of Iscador, even colored light therapy and conversations with my cervix. Some things seemed to help more than others, but my end conclusion is simply that the body can process only a certain amount of toxins per day (sometimes supplemental therapies can increase that amount), so the most important thing to do is simply to eat and imbibe (through pollution, skin products, and food) less toxins than that daily quota. If I cut out most sugar and processed foods, I'm generally fine. In the past two years I've also eaten about 800 raw eggs and many many tablespoons of coconut oil, which is gross but the single best dietary detox I've tried.

Last fall, California passed AB 499 into law, which permits children as young as 12 to receive vaccinations such as the anti-HPV cervical cancer vaccine Gardasil, without parental consent. Most anyone that age will easily accept the school's authority in suggesting taking these vaccines. I find this very disturbing...

If I had been vaccinated against HPV, I never would have gotten cervical dysplasia, but that actually was my body's beacon for telling me that it was out of balance and starting to get overwhelmed with toxins. Suppress that message, and I would have continued until an even more serious condition cropped up. I recall when I did my hair testing, the naturopath told me that the balance of my minerals was in the red-flag area for a serious condition like heart disease or cancer. This wouldn't have changed if my body's communication that something was wrong had been suppressed by a vaccine.

We need to listen to our bodies and to become aware of our points of vulnerability, the places where dis-ease will first show up. Then when we manage, on our own, to heal the imbalance in those vulnerable points, we can be assured more than any doctor can tell us that we are in a state of well-being.

Dust it off Part 3, A-Z Reflections

Today is Part 3 of the Dust it Off Bloghop as well as the day for Reflections on the A-Z Challenge. I probably ought to give them separate posts, but my brain has been feeling as if it's encased in a glutinous mass of a mysterious soporific substance, so I'm going to make them both short otherwise the feeling of obligation is going to cause a cranial explosion and when my parents return from traveling they would have to clean up both brain and soporific substance off the walls and that would not be a good welcome home present.

I've been alone with my 2-year-old since Thursday, and every day he's been going to bed at 2am with me and waking up at noon or 1pm and then not napping. We've been spending our days eating shitty food together, going to the park, and making huge messes at home. I'm wondering if part of the reason why I feel so unable to think clearly is because I'm sinking to a lowest common denominator of mental functioning, so my brain is working like a 2-year-old's? Or is that just a lame excuse?

Dustin' it off: Today I will post about what I learned from the WIP I put on the shelf, working title "Croak." This is the monster manuscript I started about ten years ago and worked on in spurts here and there. I finished its first draft (more or less) last fall and then it was so painful working on it more that I shelved it. It was 110,000 words as a first draft and needed more scenes towards the end, so it would have turned out just hellishly long.

But I learned basically how to plan, organize, and finish a novel while I worked on it. I learned how to get rid of adjectives and adverbs while I worked on it, change POVs, and bust through paralyzing writers' block. After I'm done with my current WIP, I may take it out and redo the whole thing, if I feel like it. I seem to have a fixation on talking animals and Croak has a bunch who I'm quite fond of.

Reflections on A-Z: It was fun, up until about the third week when it started to get boring and became more work than fun. I got to write lots of crappy poetry and draw pictures. I met some cool bloggers. I think I'll do it again and I want to think of a really crazy theme next time, something more continuous than what I did this time.

Yeah, I guess combining the posts is a good idea because that's all I have to say about it.

Dust if off bloghop

I'm joining this bloghop kind of late, but I figured that since the linky list was still open, I would!

For yesterday, a pitch of my shelved WIP, working title "Croak":

Prunella is an antisocial and unpleasant witch-in-training who longs only to be loved and popular but watches her sister get everything she wants while she herself gets punished and repeatedly rejected by those she adores. As she is thrown into battles to save her kingdom being enslaved by demons, becoming a dictatorship ruled by greed, or both, she learns that wisdom and compassion are even more necessary than skill when it comes to the use of magic.

And now, here's an excerpt:

The door swung open, and Lily started, pricking her thumb with her needle. The small sound that escaped her lips was accompanied by a shining piece of gold that rolled across the rug and came to rest by the foot of the intruder. Her husband.

Jerin bent and picked up the gold piece, sliding it into his pocket. He’d started having all his doublets made with oversized pockets shortly after the marriage had taken place. Lily knew by now that it wasn’t so much that he begrudged the servants pocketing spare bits of gold—although that, too, was true—but it was more that he really hated mess. He had tried keeping servants about to clean up the gold as it was produced, but he’d had to behead three of them for stealing before he decided it was a task best taken care of only by himself and a few trusted others. Lily, for one. He might not trust her with most things, but stealing—that, he trusted her not to do.

She glanced about the room, confirming that she’d picked up every piece. Not that she talked much to herself when she was alone, and even crying, which she did a great deal of these days, she’d learned to do silently. She tried to smile at Jerin as he approached, although the hands clutching her embroidery shook.

“Good day, my dear,” Jerin said, his own smile effortless as he bent and kissed her cheek. He peered at the pattern she was embroidering, of a rainbow-breasted hummingbird trapped in a golden net.

“Oh come now. It’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, and then he laughed, standing behind her and stroking her hair. “I’ve met your stepmother. You can’t tell me it’s worse living here than it was with her.”

Ima Innsacyer Righter

I've just started reading Brenda Ueland's If you want to write. I only read the first chapter while I was standing and waiting for my kids at the library, but it's completely lovely. I like this quote:

...the only way to love a person is not, as the stereotyped Christian notion is, to coddle them and bring them soup when they are sick, but by listening to them and seeing and believing in the god, in the poet, in them. For by doing this, you keep the god and the poet alive and make it flourish.

I think it's also love if someone coddles me and brings me soup, as those are the ways my parents have always loved me, as little as they comprehend of the things that actually matter to me. I seem to have manifested a continuation of that environment by marrying my husband, who like my parents, never asks me how I'm feeling or what I'm doing all these hours I sit in front of my computer.

It's a space of sometime intellectual and emotional loneliness, but it's also one of no competition, and of knowing I don't have to censor myself, as most of the people who I interact with on a daily basis won't ever read anything I write.

What it also means, though, is that when someone does listen to me about things that matter, I feel that much more exposed. But the exposure and the vulnerability are necessary, because it's the part about being listened to just as much as the creative act itself that makes the god and the poet flourish.

(So what I'm saying in roundabout terms is that I'm starting to get my novel critiqued and it's made me really insecure lately.)