Dr. Demartini - Jedi Master?

The person who has most influenced my thinking these past few years has got to be Dr. John F. Demartini. You might say he is my own personal Yoda. The good Doctor teaches that all of nature, including human nature, is composed of equal pairs of opposites - night/day, birth/death, war/peace, kind/mean, happy/sad, etc. And like the polarities of a magnet, you can't have one without the other - they cannot be separated for each is inherent in the other. Take, for example, the issue of war and peace. They are indivisible, for if you are "for" peace and "against" war, aren't you at war with war? What's more, these pairs of opposites are ALWAYS in balance, it's just our lopsided perception that says otherwise.

Dr. Demartini developed his ideas from studying physics, among other things, where principles such as The Law of Conservation of Charge Parity state that positive and negative can neither be created nor destroyed - only changed in form. These principles underlie all physical events, and ultimately, he hypothesized, human perceptions and actions.

I took to Dr. Demartini's teachings like a duck to water because it engaged that part of me that knows this instinctively - that nothing is out of balance, ever. He says that if we go through life looking for more support than challenge, more praise than criticism, more good than bad, we will always attract the opposite of what we seek as nature strives to keep the equilibrium. (We could have an entire discussion just about depression and its role in balancing perceptions in a culture that holds"positive thinking" as the gold standard.) This is classic duality, with a twist. The twist being that there is no battle of good and evil being waged, only an endless dance of opposites.

From our tiny human perspective it is easy to get angry when we don't get our own way - when we focus on one half of the duality and ignore, or can't see, the big picture. It's like the ancient Sufi story about the blind men and the elephant - because each man felt just one part of the elephant, they were all wrongly convinced that they knew what it was - a snake, a tree, a rope, a spear.

Ultimately it's our choice if we want to stick with our 'blind men' version of events, or choose to accept that there might be more than meets the eye to any given situation, and thus not go into judgment about how things are (or aren't). The beautiful thing is that if you dare to glimpse the perfection - the center point between the opposites - you feel nothing but gratitude for this rather miraculous truth. In Dr. Demartini's own words:

Between positively and negatively charged

particles is a center point of light.

Between positively and negatively charged

emotions is the center point of love.

Dr. Demartini opened my eyes to a whole new way of seeing. He showed me that when you stop fighting with the world and with yourself, it is possible to move through life with grace, power and purpose. And if that's not the way of the Jedi, I don't know what is.

What's all the fuss about 2012?

More often than not I am met with blank stares when I make comments such as, “let’s just wait until 2012!”  Hollywood disaster movies, the London Olympics and Obama's re-election aside, I’m amazed that so many people have not heard about 2012.  Perhaps you are one?  Read on.

The Mayans, clever clogs that they were, devised a very accurate and complex calendar that simultaneously keeps track of several time cycles, including the moon (28 days), sun (365 days) and the ‘sacred’ cycle of 260 days (human gestation period).  A full trip around the Mayan calendar (otherwise known as The Long Count) is equal to 13 periods of 144,000 days each.  And since most scholars agree that the beginning of this Long Count was August 11, 3114 B.C.E., the thirteenth and final cycle will come to a close on precisely December 21, 2012.  THAT is what all the fuss is about.

What will happen on that day is open to speculation.  And, as with most things, we can view the cup as half full or half empty.  In other words, it’s either the end, or the beginning.

The end?

Although there isn’t much evidence left from the Mayan civilization to suggest that they themselves thought the world would end in 2012, there are many doomsday types who have jumped on the Armageddon bandwagon.  This cheery theory says that when the cycle ends, time will cease and the world will end in any number of ways, none of them very pleasant.  (Makes me think of the “would you rather be boiled or fried” conversations we had as kids.)  Will the earth be wiped out by a giant meteor or asteroid?  Will the sun flare up and cause the planet to explode like a huge kernel of microwave popcorn?  Will the there be a “pole shift” where disturbances in the earth’s magnetic field cause the planet to literally tilt, thus triggering catastrophic earth quakes, volcanoes, storms and floods?  Pick your poison, unless you happen to believe in The Rapture – the resurrection of all Christians that will be triggered by the return of Jesus Christ.  (They'll be floating safely back to heaven.)

The Beginning?

The other viewpoint is that whatever shift occurs, it will be of the inner variety (i.e. human consciousness) rather than the physical kind.  Many religious and esoteric traditions point to a time of peace and prosperity where humanity overcomes its own worst enemy – itself.  Whether viewed as a general rise in human awareness (from duality to oneness perhaps), an evolutionary leap, or a burgeoning awareness of higher dimensions, this camp seems to be betting on change for the better.  The general consensus is that this ‘new age’ will be ushered in with some help from either extra-terrestrials (as portend by crop circles and increased UFO activity), heavenly intervention (angels, ascended masters, the Virgin Mary, etc.,) or by the bombardment of earth by new and powerful energies/vibrations emanating from the centre of the universe itself. 

All is not sunshine and roses however, as increased vibration rates could prove fatal to those who are either unprepared or who cling to old ways - every rose has its thorns.  (Although some might secretly delight in the idea that those who are lower on the totem pole, so to speak, won't be around to ruin the party!)  Personally, I wonder if the rise in extreme-isms of all sorts, as we are witnessing now, is an unconscious reaction to change? Whatever the source or the outcome, resistance is futile. Come what may, I think we’re in for a wild ride into 2012 and, hopefully (gulp), beyond.

 *  *  *

Want to learn more?  For an in-depth look at the Mayan Calendar click here.
For some weird and wonderful "spiritual" 2012 theories (Cell regeneration and the reversal of ageing?  Bring it on!) click here.
For some fascinating and more science-based views click here.
For a bit of entertainment watch this.

When Labels are a Good Thing

I’m a dabbler, a jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none.  It keeps life interesting, having no fixed vocation, but sometimes I envy people with specific expertise.  Am I avoiding depth by not cultivating one interest?  Or am I just mercurial by nature?  There’s always that moment of anxiety when someone asks, “what do you do?”  For while I can do many things, some of them quite well, (and yes, I know that we are human beings, not human doings) there is a part of me that desperately wants a label.

“Nice to meet you.  My name is Tricia and I’m a _____!”

I trained as a counsellor but I only work as a volunteer, so can I say it's my profession?  I have played  bass guitar in rock bands, but I can’t read music and have never earned a cent doing it, so can I call myself a musician?  And I write this blog, but does that make me a writer?  Or am I just a housewife with a few hobbies?  How does one cross the bridge from doing something to being something?  And is it even necessary?

To adopt a label could be both scary and liberating.  If I dare to plant my flag in the fertile soil of “writer” (the leader of the pack at the moment) then what expectations will be heaped upon me?  If I never publish one word other than what I write here can I still call myself a writer?  Or must I justify my claim by cultivating some kind of success? That’s the scary part.  The liberating part might be that by declaring myself a writer I ‘own my power’ and commit fully my talent and intention.  (Oh God, that’s scary too!)

In 'A Return To Love' (1992) Marianne Williamson wrote,  “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

It seems that in our culture if we get paid to do something, we are that something.  Without the money we are simply enthusiasts and dare not “claim our brilliance” as Marianne puts it.  It may feel incredibly risky to declare a title for ourselves, but I sense that the loss of not doing so is far greater.  I don’t want to play small anymore.  Self-deprecation is over-rated!

Some people might think I’m a second-rate regurgitater of other people’s ideas - and they might be right.  But then again, like a fingerprint, there is no one else on the whole planet who can do anything exactly like me – not write a sentence, play a bass line, talk to a client or load the dishwasher just so. 

What do you do that you have not had the courage to claim as your own?  Whatever it is, it's nice to meet you.  My name is Tricia and I’m a writer.  

You Are What You Speak

Have you heard the proverb about the two frogs that fell into a deep pit?  Several other frogs saw them fall, and while observing the poor fellows trying to escape they began to shout at them saying, "You're wasting your time trying to get out - the pit is too deep - you're going to die in there!"  One of the frogs took the words to heart and died after several failed attempts at jumping out of the pit.  But the other frog kept trying to escape until finally he launched himself free.  The frogs who had been watching and shouting gathered around the survivor and ask him, "why did you keep jumping when we told you that you'd never get out?"  The exhausted frog looked confused.  "I'm deaf," he explained, "and I thought you were encouraging me to keep trying!"

Ah, the power of words.  I've been pondering this lately, for, as the book of Proverbs says, "There is death and life in the power of the tongue."  But our words don't only affect others, they affect us.  Simply put, words define who we are while subtly and surely shaping our lives.  You may never have entertained the thought that you are what you speak, so let me give you an example.

Many years ago when I was trying to get pregnant I made sure that I always said "when I have a baby..." instead of "if I have a baby..." because I figured that by saying "when" I was giving a clear message to the powers that be (God, the universe...whatever) that I fully intended to have a child (I just wasn't in control of the time frame).  Of course that wasn't the only thing I did to reach my goal, but in a powerful way I believe it shaped my future by constantly reinforcing my intention as, indeed, several years later and against all odds, I did manage to conceive naturally.

Once we understand that what we say has power, we can begin to play with it.  Here's another little story to illustrate the point... 

One day a woman found a dime on the ground and said to herself, "How can it get better than this?"  A block or two later she found a dollar and asked herself again, "How can it get better than this?"  She walked further still and found twenty dollars and again asked, "How can it get better than this?"  She arrived home and found a diamond bracelet in the gutter and said, "It can't get better than this!"  And, indeed, it didn't.

I don't know if it's a true story or not, but I love the concept - it ties in nicely to my own habit of saying not "if" but "when."   Can you see how an open-ended question throws the door open for anything to happen while a statement slams it shut? What if we live our lives and choose our words in such a way that invites miracles rather than putting limits on what life serves up? 

I am excited by the possibilities and will be choosing my words carefully.  How can it get better than this?  I can't wait to find out.

Time for a Change

Last weekend I had the good fortune of attending a service at New York Unity church on what was literally the first day of spring.  Spring took its time arriving this year to say the least, with the east coast being battered by rain and wind just days before the spring equinox brought with it near record temperatures in the 70's.  It was a dramatic change, and it seemed as though the first leaves on the trees appeared literally overnight.

During the sermon the minister asked, "Did you ever doubt that Spring would arrive?"  Of course no one did - Spring always arrives!  But then he said, "So do you ever doubt that healing will arrive?  Or success?  Or a change in circumstances?"  There were knowing mumbles all around.

I like to think of myself of an enlightened gal, but it's amazing how easy it is to get swept up in the drama of my life and forget that "this too shall pass."  Of course I don't just mean just bad stuff, but the good stuff too.  All of life is cyclical, but sometimes the cycles move too slowly for me to notice.

Years ago an astrologer told me that astrology is just the study of very large cycles - the orbit of planets around the sun - and their affect on earth and its inhabitants.  These cycles are imperceptible and their effects too subtle for the average  person to notice.  Likewise it is easy for days, weeks and months to roll by without noticing the inch by inch progress made in one direction or another.  Then one day our eyes open and we realize we are in a new space entirely - be it a crisis or a triumph - and we didn't even see it coming.  Just like spring arriving in New York with a skid last weekend.  

So how can we learn to stay poised and unruffled when things are either changing too slowly or too quickly for comfort? Jean Houson said, "Change the story and you change perception; change perception and you change the world."  If that's true then there's no fighting change, just our thoughts about it - our story.

If I tell myself, "I'm stuck and there's no way out!" no doubt I will be miserable.  But if I gently remind myself that life is in constant flux and the next phase of my life is already on the horizon (whether I can see it or not) then I can remain calm and attentive and welcoming to change.  I might even enjoy the "stuck" bits where it feels like change might never arrive!

Plato noticed that, "everything flows and nothing stays...you can't step into the same river twice" and you can't fault his wisdom.  But I prefer a more modern reminder of the same truth, from the great sages of Monty Python's Flying Circus:

"And now for something completely different!" 

Happy Spring, everyone.

How Pessimism Can Save Your Life

I am a wide-eyed optimist at heart, but from time to time it's important to remind myself that things do not always turn out for the best. Sometimes the worst does happen; we hit the end of the line; the party's over.

My father was an Army man.  He was sent to Vietnam in July 1965.  A couple of years ago I decided to learn more about that part of his life.   Thankfully my mom had saved a cache of old reel-to-reel tapes that they used to send back and forth to each other.  She also had a box of their letters.  As I began sifting through their correspondence and listening to the tapes, an image of my dad began to form - not some romanticised vision of a heroic soldier and his one true love (although their love was overwhelmingly present), but of a man trapped in a situation that he hated and who was tortured by the fear that he may have screwed up his life.

Dad loved his country, its democratic system and the principles for which it stands (once stood?) and he wanted to go to law school to do his part in preserving its greatness.  But, as one particular tape made clear, he was disgusted with the military and it's culture of authority-over-decency.  He abhorred the tendency toward shame and bullying which his superiors made clear was the way to get ahead.  He spoke and wrote of his desire to refuse a Captainship, should it be offered - his way of sticking to his principles. My grandfather said he was "intolerant of injustice and unfairness, but was always tolerant, understanding and forgiving of human weakness."

Oddly, he did not seem at all afraid of being in Vietnam.  As an officer he was stationed in Saigon and worked at the large field depot on the outskirts of the city.  The war was still young, and the city still relatively safe.   What did seem to worry him was that he might have ruined his chances of getting into a good law school by not taking his undergrad years seriously enough; and he couldn't shake the gnawing sense that going into the military was a big mistake.

As it turns out, he was not safe in Saigon.  On the morning of April 1st, 1966, a Viet Cong terrorist drove a van full of explosives into the lobby of the Victoria Hotel where he was billeted.  Captain David Marshall Davies was the only American soldier killed in the blast.  He was a few weeks shy of his 26th birthday. 

Next week I will turn 46 - I'll have had 20 years more than my dad had.  I feel a bit sick when I realize how many aspirations I've filed away for someday.   We like to believe that we will always get another chance to step up in life, but my father's short life is a sobering testament to the fact that that is not always the case. 

Being an optimist is fantastic, but perhaps an equal dose of pessimism is what we all need to keep us moving towards our dreams.  As the say goes, "If not me, who? And if not now, when?"

Not nice...and proud of it!

Someone once asked me how becoming  a Psychosynthesis counselor has changed me.  I hesitated only a moment before answering, "I'm not as nice as I used to be."  But, I hear you thinking, isn't is good to be nice?  In a word, no.  Let me explain.

A few years ago we had a heatwave in London - really hot, almost 100 degrees.  On this particular day I had arrived at class in my trusty VW Beetle with 10 minutes to spare.  I left the engine running so I could enjoy a few minutes gathering my thoughts in the coolness of the air conditioning.  I am not normally the sort to condone such wanton burning of fosil fuels, but following a fraught morning I felt I deserved a moment of cool peace. 

After only a minute or so, a woman walking by rapped on my window.  With a start I snapped to attention and cracked the window to see what she wanted.  With a friendly smile she asked if I wouldn't mind turning my engine off.  I was horrified at having been "caught" in my selfish act, and without hesitating I said, "Of course!" and switched off my car.  As she walked away I felt the red rise in my cheeks and I realized how angry I was.  But I wan't angry with the busy body, I was mad at myself!  My "niceness" had become habitual to the point where I was on people-pleasing autopilot.  

Thus began the process of untangling the difference between nice and kind - two very different things.  After all, giving robust "feedback" (critcism to some) with kindness can be extremely valuable, whereas niceness just for the sake of it evokes images of the smarmy Eddy Haskel on Leave it to Beaver.  (Didn't you just want to punch him?!)

I don't remember where I found the following quote, but I can't resist including it:

"The truth spoken is a gift given. Truth withheld is more than a gift denied, it is an arrow aimed at the heart.

It has been said that "the truth hurts," but the exact opposite is true. No truth is too hurtful, and no lie is harmless. Because every truth opens your heart to another, and every lie separates it.

Yet know this: The way you say your truth can be hurtful.  So speak your truth, but soothe your words with peace."

Many times I have replayed the scene in the car and imagined what I could have said to that lady - something like, "I'm sure you have your reasons for asking me to turn my engine off, but I have good reasons of my own for keeping it running, and it's really none of your business."  (The expression "firm but kind" comes to mind.) 

I'm more honest in my interactions these days, and I have discovered that  I can do all sorts of "not nice" things without a guilt trip, like saying no to my kids, or letting a waiter know the truth when they ask how the food is.  Stepping into my true self may mean that I'm not as nice as I used to be, but, ultimately, I am far kinder, especially to myself.