The Beautiful Answer

So Incredibly Close

You know when you get so close to something you’ve been working for for so long that, well, people say you can taste it? Strangely enough, it’s not my sense of taste that’s most engaged when this happens, but you for you, maybe that’s what happens. Instead, it’s my sense of touch and smell that get most affected. 

First, I can feel with my hands how the energy begins to change when I’m very close to breaking through. It opens up in a way that feels like nothing else. You know how it feels when you move your hand through an open window, when it just moves easily through space? This is how it feels to me. 

Second, I begin to smell it, almost like I’m running a race, and beginning to catch up to the lead runner. I can see the sweat on the back of this person’s neck, hear the air moving through his lungs, and witness his chest moving up and down as he races for the finish line. But it’s the smell that brings it into three dimensions for me. I can smell his feet, hot in his sneakers, straining to bring him there faster. I can smell his fear coming out of his pores, that after so much work, he may end up finishing behind me. And I can smell everything going on around the race — the air like a cross between fresh paper and jasmine, the water chck-chck-chking from the sprinkler on the lawn, the smell of the shampoo in my hair, as it streams into the air behind me. 

This is a race that plays out in my mind a lot these days. I am gaining on this runner every day. And with the energy this open, who knows where it will all end up? 

Working with Confusion

On any given day, I work with a lot of confusion. Usually, I’m so busy trying to see through it intuitively, so I can help someone release old, negative patterns from their past and bring in newer, fresher and healthier patterns for their future, that I don’t see how much of it I’m actually weeding through each day. That came to a screeching halt during the work I did with my clients today. 

I was trying to help someone see why they had tried many times and failed to find a wonderful romantic relationship. Normally, you want to approach this so the person sees the pattern themselves, then accepts that they need to release it in order to be happy, rather than acting upon them, and forcing your version of what works and what doesn’t. So she was getting pretty near the pattern in question, then circling back, not quite seeing it but still, practically touching on it, but wasn’t quite willing to accept that it was this belief she had inside herself, about her ability to get the real kid of love she was seeking, which was the primary culprit.

“Do you think it might be this?” she asked. 

“Do you?’ I responded, trying not to sound combative or petty. 

A few moments passed. I could practically hear her mind turning the idea over and over. 

“I’m gonna chance it,” she finally said. 

I asked her what she felt she was risking by letting go of a thought pattern that had her believing she could only have love for a few months, and then not at all. 

“It feels like me,” she said. “Like it’s been part of me for so long that I don’t know who I’d be without it.” 

That’s what we call a bingo moment. 

Finally, she let me remove the pattern and install a healthier one in its place. At the end of our session, she said she felt lighter and less stressed out. But it got me thinking about how we want to cling to whatever feels like us, even if it’s unhealthy, or brings us nothing but grief. How whatever feels familiar is a better ally than an outright enemy.

After the session, I did a little group energy work, to let go all the energy of confusion for everyone I was working with, so they could release anything that was standing in the way of clarity for them, or obscuring their ability to see what was best in the moment. 

About an hour after that, I got an email out of the blue from a client I had worked with late last week. “Just wanted to say I feel so much clearer now,” she said, “and grateful for our time together.” 

That, people, is why I continue to do this each day. 

Retroactive

You ever notice that whenever you’re tweaked about something, it’s generally not about that particular moment in time?  More likely, it’s triggering something you went through in the past, and your rection to it in this moment is overblown and maybe even the slightest bit inappropriate. 

I saw this in action today, which gave me a great opportunity for reframing. I was talking to someone (don’t want to name names because it’s not about blame or finger-pointing) and this person asked why spiritual people always seemed blind to their own faults, while readers (of which I am one) often have so much to give, and those seeking readings often interrupt, try to talk over you and really don’t want to hear what you have to say most of the time. 

True, this stuff happens sometimes. Maybe even more than sometimes. But that’s not a world I want to live in, or a dynamic I choose to support. I’m not much of a fan of the “us vs. them” approach to life because it doesn’t tend to get anyone much of anywhere.

So I said I was glad they had come to me instead of someone else who might not care. She sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, I guess fully expecting me to jump on the “clients suck” bandwagon. But I don’t feel that way about my clients, even the ones who sometimes make my job harder. That’s not why I got into this lone of work, or why I continue to stay in it. 

Then she said, “You know, I never thought about it that way. That’s probably true, huh?” 

In that moment everything went retroactive, and all the times I’d complained about a client in the past (I’m not perfect; I’ve done it, too) kind of lifted off me energetically. And all I could feel in its place were sparkly little pulses of all that remained — my wish to be part of the circle of healing, and gratitude at being afforded the chance. 

I Want More

Many days, when I’m dealing with clients, there’s a palpable energy on the call, or in the room. The person wants something, but I’ve long since learned that it’s not healthy for me to ask them what it is. Every person has his or her own process, so I wait until they’re ready to spit it out. Then, usually it comes out something like this: 

“I … don’t know what to say. I suppose … well, I want more out of this situation. I want to see him/her more, or move this relationship to another level, or more money at my job. I want more attention from the world, and more love. I want more time off to be creative. I want to know what’s coming in my life. I want to be sure that I’ll get what I want when all is said and done.” 

But it’s usually delivered in an almost apologetic way, as if that person doesn’t have the right to want more. As if wanting more is inherently selfish, or somehow not even sayable out loud. 

Hey, sometimes it’s not. Obviously it’s not cool to be a narcissist, or take up all the time, air or resources, with no thought of anyone else. But many times, I believe most of us operate from an inner wisdom. We know what the right amount of anything is. We know what our fair share should be. 

Why do we apologize when we want more out of life? If we’re being productive, trying to be good people and truly engaging with our lives, why could that be wrong? 

Personally, I wish for more of everything, for nearly everyone. I believe most of us know how to handle it, or will seek the help and guidance we need. For you and you and you, I wish the absolute best. 

The Patterns, The Patterns

Lately, I’ve felt a little like the Marlon Brando character in Apocalypse Now, crouching under a light bulb, glare bouncing off … well, that’s about where the similarity falls off. I’m not bald, that large, or crazy. I don’t kill people, or imprison them in jungle cages made of bamboo spikes. But I did have a revelation recently, which was much like Brando’s famous, “the horror … the horror” line. 

Let me explain. 

When you work with energy, you’re largely working blind. You feel things, see things if you’re clairvoyant, which I am, and sometimes even hear things or sense them in your body as heat or cold, tightness, nausea and the like. But there’s no machine there measuring levels of anything, really. You’re on your own there. 

But as I mentioned last time, I have been heavily into removing energetic patterns I find in myself, from limiting beliefs to those odd sensations of just not deserving more. It surprises me how into this I’ve gotten, given my pretty laid back personality and fairly mellow attitude toward money and abundance. Over time, I’ve gotten pretty successful, I make a good living doing what I love, the healing work and my writing. I’ve been doing this for a long time, which feels like a gift from the universe. I don’t advertise, and never have to worry about clients. 

So when I found an ugly little troll of a pattern that said that money would change me, make me into something I’m not, or  cause me to “forget where I came from,” I didn’t get mad. I dug that sucker out. With a little (OK, maybe a lot) of twisting, tugging and wrenching, I managed to release four or five stubborn patterns that didn’t want to let go. That’s when you know you’re getting to the good stuff. 

When that sucker popped out, I felt about ninety pounds lighter, and my throat chakra opened up like a flower. Amazing. That I hadn’t expected. Didn’t have much to do with playing the lottery, or maybe it does. 

What happens next is in the hands of the universe, right? 

The Biggest Douche

Why is it that you’re doing something enjoyable — watching a baseball game, say — and then there have to be those guys who can’t keep their mouths shut, try to pick fights with pretty much anyone walking by, and actually manage to make alcohol and its consumption look uncool? Why do they always have to know nothing about the sport in question, and make your viewing of same so annoying that even though you’re a peaceful person by nature, you consider doing them harm, or actually kind of root for someone to give them the beatdown they so desire?

Reframing them didn’t work the first few times I tried. How do you reframe idiots, after all?

I tried meditating, letting them go, working with my breath. Then I had a thought. I’m an energy worker, damn it. Why wouldn’t that work in this instance?  So I glued their mouths shut, energetically of course, and it took about five minutes before they stopped talking altogether. 

A little while later, they left, and almost everyone in our section started cheering. The rest of the game was uneventful — it ended in a tie — but it was way more enjoyable. That and Buster Posey’s homer made even the Biggest Douche tolerable. 

On Letting Go More

Once I took a yoga class. At the end of every one of them, as we lay in corpse pose, the teacher would say, “Try to think of yourself as being busy letting go more.” And try though I may, it never made any sense to me. How can you be busy letting go? Aren’t the two mutually exclusive?  And how can you let go more? Aren’t you letting go precisely the amount you’re letting go, no more and no less? 

Today that began to make more sense. For the past month or two, as I entered the New Year, I’ve been thinking about how to throw any energetic ballast overboard. I’ve released issues, limiting beliefs, ancient behaviors and prejudices, and found myself feeling a lot lighter and brighter. 

But you keep digging, as I’m prone to doing, and you keep finding stuff to work with. Not that it’s all bad, not that it’s all dire. Some of it is funny, old beliefs I held while young that were somehow trapped below the surface. I may not have felt that way in years, at least consciously, but they’re there just the same.

When do you get to the bottom? Is there a bottom? And why does it matter, exactly? 

Maybe there is no “there,” where we’re all issue-free and perfectly happy all the time. Maybe it doesn’t matter to have arrived at this place that may not exist. Maybe the work is the real reward, the journey over the destination. And letting go more begins to make the most sene of any activity we could possibly be spending our time on. 

The Space Between

Today’s been a bit of a breakthrough for me. One some days, I “get” other people’s stuff - their emotions and fears, their concerns and worries. I usually know it’s not applicable to my own life when I do a quick check through my body and emotions — there’s usually some separation there — and I know I’m picking up something out there in the universe. 

Today I started picking up some weird energy — a little sadness, coming in tiny waves, and then a thought chasing that through my mind, to not get ahead and leave everyone behind. To not outshine the pack. That’s strange, I thought. Not apart of my waking reality. Not really. 

I sat in meditation for a bit, just allowing the thoughts and sensations to arise in my mind and body. That felt a little better. I did some work, took a break and ate lunch. The feelings dissipated some. I did some more work and then checked in with the feelings again. Then, as chance would have it, I read an article about a guy who studied these seemingly “difficult” emotions that arise in our lives. Most of the time, we’re trained to ignore them at best, and push them away at worst. 

He found that if his test subjects just brought kind awareness to the issues, whether they were physical or emotion in nature, and just abided there, staying with them without judgement, that the pain went away over time. That’s right. Whether it’s physical pain or emotional trauma of some kind, just staying with the feelings without judging whether you or it is good or bad, you can make your own pain go away. 

Fascinating, as Spock would say. That proves what I’ve been wondering about for along time. That healing lies in the space between, hanging out and waiting for us to invite it in. Not easy, to be sure. But worth it? You bet. 

Progress!

On most days, the main goal is to make some sort of progress. This might mean progress with my own work, with the wishes and desires of clients, or even progress along my personal spiritual path. Seems there’s ever an end to that, and maybe that’s how it should be. Nothing more boring than knowing where you’re going all the time. 

But many spiritual practices, meditation included, teaches us not to try to get anywhere, or feel that we have to be doing anything. That’s one of the reasons I like energy work so much. Sure, I direct the energy. I help to focus it. But many times, it’s the body’s own innate intelligence that helps to disperse the energy where it needs to go, for optimum healing. When I have the kind of results I’ve been having with clients lately, I have to laugh, because part of me doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything at all. 

So if we’re not supposed to be going anywhere, how are we supposed to measure progress? From what I can figure out so far, slowly, and with a light touch and lots of mindfulness. 

It would be easy to claim all the credit for the results my clients get from my work. After all, it’s all me, right?  That’s what the prevailing way of thinking would have it. But while everyone’s boarding the first class compartment on the Me train, I’d rather sit by the window, watching the interesting stuff on the way, not racing to see when we’ll arrive. We’ll get there when we get there, and not a moment sooner. 

Love Ray Gun

I know. When you type it out like that, it sounds a little porny. But I have a pretty vivid imagination, and am always on the lookout for new ways to be playful with energy, to not buy into the tired old ways that many of us express our emotions. I mean, does everyone scream when they’re mad?  No. Some people steam, other people drink, while still others hug it out. 

It came to me when I was driving, as we so often do here in L.A. Some guy was riding my buper, even though I was in the slow lane, about to get off at the next exit. This type of behavior irritates me for the obvious reasons (which is that it just sucks), but also because it’s the epitome of greed. I mean, seriously? You’re so concerned with getting what you want right freaking now that you can’t, I don’t know, ease up a bit? After all, we were in bumper to bumper traffic. Not exactly the Indy 500. 

Luckily, I caught myself in the next moment. OK, so it was very little skin off my back, and who cares anyway, right? But I wanted to try something a little deeper. And for some reason, the image of a ray gun came into my mind, the ones you see all the time in cartoons blasting someone’s face off and leaving them in a cloud of ash. Then I loaded that baby up with some love pellets, planning to fire them behind me into the guy’s car. Hey, it could work, right? 

I’m sitting there giggling to myself, imagining firing away with these imaginary love pellets, and probably anyone who looked inside my mind at that moment might have thought that I was batshit crazy, but it made me laugh. I can’t be sure if this is what made him ease off my bumper in the next few minutes, but it made my commute a little easier, and a lot more fun.