Original Songs

I had not been singing. There were several reasons and none of them worth going into right now. They would all bring you down and that is not the intention of this post.

This morning, after finally getting a good night’s sleep, I woke up feeling like a human being. I took care of the dogs and cat and made coffee. I checked my email, blinked my eyes and did some of Mark Beat’s exercises to create a little space for my soul to stretch out.

And finally, after what seemed like a million years, (but really was only a couple of weeks,) I began to sing. The Hindu mantra Har Haray Hari seemed to well up from the core of my being and spill into musical notes to fill the room, the whole house with happy song. I knew the chant had reached a ripe point when suddenly all the animals were especially quiet and listening. you can tell when someone is really listening. Even if a person, or an animal in this case, is quiet, there is an inaudible noise they make when they are not really listening. Then, when they tune in to what you are saying or singing there is a tangible kinetic difference in the space between singer and listener.

I can’t just say there is a change in the room, because I believe this change can be experienced in any distance as long as a connection has been made. Maybe it occurs in the morphic fields that Rupert Sheldrake speaks of.

The dogs, and Pascal, the cat, seemed to appreciate their morning concert, and I appreciated a receptive audience. I was so happy I baked a crustless pumkin pie and brewed a little more coffee to stretch the morning out a little longer.

I am looking forward to the day ahead in the way I use my eyes to connect to the points of the room in the 8-point anchoring exercise that Mark teaches. I connect with the day ahead: I love the day ahead and create a space of love bewteen where I am now and where I am headed.

May I walk in grace. May I feel true gratitude for everything that crosses my path. May I think before I act and may i act with mindful intention to keep myself in tune and singing so that others may remember that they are music too and that our lives are all original songs.

Mad Energy

She interrupted my morning routine with passive aggressive messages about what I ought to be doing instead, then she interrupted a recording session asking me if I’d cleaned the litter box.

That did it. I was mad–mad enough to stand up, get out of my pajamas, pick up the broom and start cleaning.

I started chanting a mantra to protect me from her bad mood. I almost recognized that I needed protection from my own bad mood too, and I needed to make sure no one was hurt by it as well. So I chanted and cleaned, chanted and cleaned and after a couple of hours started feeling kind of happy.

Then She came home and needed my help. She poked herself with sharp tweezers and was bleeding; she needed a Band-aid.

“Get on the Reiki table.” I said. Put pressure on the wound and I’ll get the Band-aid.”

Anyone could tell I was still a little angry.

“No.” She said. “All that anger will leak out. You are still mad at me.”

I looked at her and smiled. “I am still mad, but I’m putting the energy to good use. I’ve got the Reiki room all cleaned and I’m working on the other. I’m not ready to stop being mad. (I laughed.) I still have work to do. (She laughed.)

She has been bleeding too much.

The day before yesterday she banged on the shower wall and I ran in there to find her standing in a shower of blood that would have outdone any horror flick. She had been washing her face and disturbed a wound. It was horrible. I got her out and applied pressure with a tight towel, put her in bed and told her to stay put and keep the towel on. She usually doesn’t listen, but this time she did.

I was thinking about that during my mad-energy frenzy cleaning.

At some point in the frenzy I switched mantras to one that acknowledged the oneness of God and our relationship to God and to one another. I was diligently reminding myself not to judge because I’ve been in the same head space. I may be there tomorrow.

We all have our demons. We all have parasites to remove. Some are hidden in our bodies, some are bullies at school, some work with us, suck the life out of us, some run governments and corporations, churches and other fear based thought shapers, like media. We all have parasites.

I guess there are different cures.

One thing I am convinced of is this: we cannot get rid of them by hating them or thinking they are useless and disgusting. We have to find the value in them. And even if we can’t find the direct value of, let’s say a fluke or a tapeworm, or a school bully, we can help find a cure by opening ourselves to the idea that all life has some reason for being.

At any rate, we don’t have to take this line of thought very far to realize that we may be someone’s parasite as well.

Kind of an eye opener.

It means I’d have to let go of feeling like I am so special.

I mean, I am special. The life force that manifests as me is wonderful! But when examined closely, so are microscopic creatures, so bizarre in their composition they seem like beings from another planet.

Anything, anyone, when examined through the right lens, has value.

I used my anger for good yesterday. I used it to clean my rooms and the rooms of my mind and heart.

All can be grist for the mill.

There are things in my life that I hate. Grist for the mill. I won’t hate myself for hating, but I will chant and pray for God to change me and to use the energy for some good. And if I feel plagued by any type of clingy parasite, I will find out if there are things in my life that I (myself) might be hanging on to for dear life and ask, can I let that go?

Meanwhile I will stop judging people who stand there and think they are so much better than the girl who gets the head lice from the boy next door who got ’em from so and so and oh! you know how it goes.

It goes on unless we change it.

We can change.

Ek ong kar sat Nam siri Wahe guru.