Face to Face with the Force

What started as a coffee morning - the usual gaggle of moms catching up over hot drinks and chit chat - turned into a surprise encounter with something I thought I knew quite a bit about -  "The Force."

One mom had brought along an exotic stranger - a MAN, from California no less, who was a Transformational Breath practitioner.  After not much pleading, he agreed to give us an impromptu class.  "Excellent," I thought, "A new weird experience to add to my collection."

The basic instruction was to breathe in from the lower belly for three counts and then let it out fast in one count - no pausing in between breaths. After about 15 minutes of breathing this way, he explained, the conscious mind would essentially shut off, leaving the door open for the powerful unconscious to come in and take over, allowing the body to release whatever old traumas or dramas it had been holding onto for safe keeping. If we were really lucky we might even slip into the flow of the source-of-all itself and experience the type of bliss that yogis sit on mountaintops for years trying to attain.  So far, so simple.  Ready, steady, go.

Cushions, blankets and pillow were gathered, and within minutes we were warming up to the beat of some energetic quasi-eastern trance/dance music, bouncing up and down and punching the air to "grab" handfuls of breath.  (I love these women - not afraid to dance like wild banshees first thing in the morning.)  As soon as the song ended we dove for our cushions to get into the breathing technique as quickly as possible.

My hands, arms and legs went numb and tingly within the first 10 minutes, and the breathing felt forced and unnatural. (He did say we might experience all of this, along with a few other common side effects such as muscle cramping, chills, etc.)  But, sure enough, after about 15 minutes things got interesting. I was breathing almost automatically now, and was noticing with detachment as first my right hand, then my left, began to curl into what I can only describe as a claw wrapped around a steel ball.  (I'm not making this up!) Next my calves seized up, followed by my lips.  At about this time we were encouraged to release sound on the out breath - any kind of vocal release that felt appropriate - a tone, a note, a sigh, a cry.  This felt great, and the music was loud enough to mask my tendency towards self-consciousness.

But soon my detachment turned toward distress as I realized I was completely frozen solid and it was getting painful.  Thankfully the teacher arrived when the student was ready, and he very gently helped to open my fingers and assured me it was safe to release whatever it was I was holding onto so fiercely, both literally and figuratively.  With that a most unexpected wail welled up from deep in my belly and came out of my being as an uncontrollable howl.  I sobbed loudly and wholeheartedly.

As the pain and the sobs began to wane, my body deeply relaxed. My awareness, however, was alert and observing.  I felt a wave-like sensation as my breathing took on a much slower, gentler rhythm, and it seemed as if I was lying in the bottom of a warm river, the water flowing over me in undulating ribbons of gentle energy.  I noticed that I was hardly breathing now, and I had a strong desire to stay in the pause between breaths forever.  It was pure peace, pure calm, pure love.  I imagine this is what the poet Rabindranath Tagore was describing when he wrote, The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day, runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

As the session came to an end I reluctantly began to wiggle my fingers and toes and bring myself back to the room.  Everyone had had a profound experience in varying degrees, and all looked radiant. 

Later that night I went to the theater and felt oddly removed yet alert.  At one point I noticed that I was completely still - no fidgeting, which is my usual modus operandi.  Three days on and I still feel slightly dazed and strangely calm, the chronic tension in my jaw and shoulders more or less gone.

The yogis have known of the transformational power of breath for thousands of years, and in my experience this particular breathing technique is aptly named. "The Stream of Life," "The Force," "God" - call it what you will.  Once you have experienced it so viscerally you truly will be transformed., and "the Force will be with you, always."

It's not Helpful to be Helpful

One day I'm going to do it.  I'm going to make a t-shirt that says, "I'm not here to help" and I'm going to wear it when I see counselling clients on their first appointment.  Why would I do that?  Because it's true.  Being a therapist may include many things, but being helpful isn't one of them.  In fact, I've come to learn that being helpful is actually unhelpful.

I recently read a story about a Russian billionaire who spent millions helping impoverished local in his native Georgia.  He discovered that paying their electricity bills merely led to them leaving the lights on all the time!  

What's going on here? 

Being helpful, particularly where money is concerned, is disempowering.  It tends to foster dependence rather than raise people up in the world.  As the old saying goes, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for one day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." 

The same might be said of the listening arts of counselling and psychotherapy.  While I aim to empathize, encourage, challenge, reflect and notice my clients, the minute I try to be helpful I have an agenda - that something is wrong with them the way they are, or that I don't believe that they can help themselves.  Further, it sends a subtle message that, "I know what's best for you," and can insidiously undermine their belief that they can learn to be effective in their own lives. 

Being helpful can also prolong people's suffering by preventing them from facing the consequences of their own actions or inaction.  The desire to protect people from their problems is an easy trap to fall into, particularly where children and vulnerable people are concerned.  But I can clearly see in my own life that I gained far more when I learned to do things for myself, even when it meant, "learning the hard way."  After all, it is the struggle to emerge from the chrysalis that forces fluid into a butterfly's wings and enables it to fly.  "Help" it by assisting it out of its cocoon and it dies. 

Does this mean we abandon all charity and humanitarian causes?  Of course not.  Compassionate action will always have a place in the world. But the manner in which assistance is administered makes all the difference.  A hand up and a hand out are two entirely different things. 

Today, with perfect timing, I received the following inspirational e-mail from Neale Donald Walsch, author of the Conversations with God books:

On this day of your life, dear friend, I believe God wants you to know...
...that nobody needs your help.

I know, I know...this is a difficult one. But it is true.
Yet this does not mean no one wants your help, or that no one
could use your help. It simply means the thought that another
Aspect of Divinity [person] is powerless without you is inaccurate.

I love it when the universe drops such neat little crumbs to show me that I'm on the right path.  Neale and me, we're singing from the same hymnal.  Can you spot us in the choir?  He's the one with the beard, and I'm the one in the t-shirt that reads, "I'm not here to help."  (And a green light sabre, of course.)

Late Night Ah Ha - A Short Story

It is after midnight and I'm lying in bed listening to the party going on downstairs.  My husband is giving loud and enthusiastic advice to someone playing a racecar video game.  There is laughter.  Everyone is a bit drunk and, as we are in the middle of nowhere, not concerned about noise. 

I lay still for a few minutes - not sure if I am annoyed at having been woken, or annoyed that I went to bed early.  (That's me, the sensible one who gets the kids to bed at a reasonable hour and usually joins them.) A while ago I might have stomped down the stairs and asked the crowd to keep it down, but, for some reason, not tonight. 

Instead, I remember a funny conversation I once had with a gal who was lamenting the fact that a party-animal friend had quit drinking.  While she knew it was good for his health, she selfishly missed having him as the life of the party.  I can relate.  I once thought I knew what was best for my husband.   I wanted to magically change him into the watered down version of himself that I thought would be best.  But lying here right now, I am gifted with a moment of clarity.  I recognize how he brightens a room with his infectious antics and injects life into even the most awkward of social situations.  He is perfect as he is.


It's easy to fall into judgment and loose sight of how everything fits into the grand scheme of things.  To glimpse this perfection, even for a moment, makes my heart swell.

There is an ancient Hawaiian practice called Ho'Oponopono that encourages one to take responsibility for their judgments by repeating the simple mantra, “I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.”  Lying awake I can't think of a better way to acknowledge this new awareness and to apologize for my arrogance, while at the same time forgiving myself.

I offer up a silent prayer to the man whom I have judged so harshly for his wild ways.  I smile as I hear him sloppily coach the game player through a chicane.  I'm sorry.  Please forgive me.  I love you.  Thank you.  The party is far from over, but I am happy in my bed, enjoying my little "ah ha" moment.  I tuck an arm around my little boy who is sleeping next to me and go back to sleep.

The Tangled Web of Purpose

The other day I had a conversation with a young counseling client about his life purpose.  It was interesting to discover that his (and my own) perception about purpose was entirely based upon about what we are to do in life, i.e., go to school, build a career, buy a home, have a family, etc.  But what if our purpose is a bit more complicated and tangled than that?

As I listened it dawned on me that perhaps part of this young man's purpose is also to be my client, helping me to learn and hone my counseling craft.  Likewise part of my purpose is to be his counselor, to help him learn to move through his life with more ease.  Thus his purpose and mine are intertwined. 

Imagine that life is an enormous jigsaw puzzle with each person representing a single piece of unique shape and size.  No matter how insignificant one feels their piece is, the space left by even the smallest missing chunk leaves a glaring hole in the picture.

It's terribly simple yet complicated at the same time.  One morning my purpose might be to smile at the depressed lady at the grocery store to remind her that all is not lost, while hers might be to awaken my compassion.  Later my kids' purpose might be to push the boundaries of my tolerance so that I lose my temper and illustrate for them that everyone has their limits.  A lovingly cooked dinner has no purpose without hungry mouths to eat it, and likewise a brilliant performance needs to see itself reflected back in appreciative eyes to feel purposeful. 

We do not exist in a vacuum - it is not possible for my purpose and yours to be mutually exclusive.  Carl Jung said, "As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being. " And it seems to me we can only achieve that with the help of another.

Living a life of purpose is our natural state.  Once we recognize this we can let go of the illusion that purpose = achievement.  If you have goal to achieve great things then good for you, but don't discount the importance of your more mundane interactions with others - healers need patients, teachers need students, and politicians need voters.

Today my purpose included writing this short blog.  If your purpose has been to read it, then I am honored and awed by our interconnection.  Have a wonderful, purposeful day.

Compassion with a Capital 'C'

Compassion is something I thought I knew quite a lot about.  I give lots of second, third and fourth chances, I almost never hold a grudge, I mutter a prayer when my cats bring me dead mice, I ALWAYS give money to buskers (street musicians for you non-Brits) and I USUALLY buy The Big Issue from homeless guys.  This is fairly generic stuff, as is getting a lump in the throat when watching TV charity appeals for the latest tragedy on the globe (be it a tsunami, earthquake, or famine), or welling up at the plight of abused animals, neglected orphans and casualties of war.  In most cases you can do your bit without leaving your sofa or really getting involved - that's compassion with a small 'c.'  But what I'm interested in is compassion with a capital 'C." Let me explain.

Recently I was complaining to a trusted advisor about the unthinking behavior of a loved-one.  I expected to receive some sympathy or commiseration, but instead they asked,  "Can you feel compassion for the wounded part of them that drives them to behave like that?"  I had never considered this before.  Generally speaking I see the distasteful behavior of those around me as character flaws at best (including my own) or stupidity and meanness at worst (got to hold my own hand up here as well.)  Did I feel compassion?  No, I most certainly did not.

But over time, that question began to work its magic - my inner landscape shifting to accommodate it.   I spent an evening with someone who couldn't stop drinking and I wondered what old hurts might be so bad that they needed to be numbed with alcohol?  I saw a woman shouting at her kid in the grocery store and wondered about the inner pain that might be fueling her rawness.  I pondered the defensiveness of a friend - what makes her so vulnerable yet rigid?  I felt my heart ache for the kinds of on-the-ground, up-close-and-personal types of old wounds that fuel my own short fuse, my judgment, my fear.

True compassion with a capital 'C' will change not only the way you regard your own pain, but also that of the alcoholic in your life, the belligerent neighbor, the hooded youths hanging out on the corner, or the undependable friend.  And it also means being willing to be honest with them - to trust that they can handle the truth and consequences of their behavior.  Big 'C' compassion might be tough love in one case, or just a knowing hug in another. You can't do that with a victim of a natural disaster. 

This is foreign territory for me, but I'm beginning to get my bearings.  It is a landscape you are familiar with?  I invite you to explore this space for yourself - let your heart be your compass.  For as the Buddha said, "In separateness lies the world's great misery, but in compassion lies the world's true strength."

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.