Spiritual Cowgirl

Run down by writing deadlines (hence my lazy blogging recently) and preparing to fly home to be with my family for Christmas, I just remembered one of my favorite (although personally embarrassing) Christmas travel stories.

One year, when I was in college, my family decided to take a trip to Costa Rica for Christmas in order to visit my older sis who was volunteering in Central America. Not spending Christmas in my hometown meant not seeing all my hometown friends who only came home each year for the holidays. So, as ridiculous as it was, I didn’t want to go on this trip and was being a total brat about the situation (I think I even tried to get out of the trip by faking a lost passport, aw, the shame). Half way to our final destination, we were delayed in the Miami airport along with thousands of other disgruntled holiday travelers - for hours.

I’m not sure if it was because of my Dad’s frequent flyer miles or my sour attitude, but we were eventually ushered away to this strange isolated wing of the Miami airport, with only one other family. My Dad, always Mr. Friendly, struck up a conversation with the other family’s father and soon enough, called me over so he could introduce me to one of the world’s top Kali scholars (fyi, there not many Kali scholars gracing the world). My jaw dropped, my sight turned red, and I almost passed out with excitement because I happened to be writing my college thesis on Kali at that very time. Not only did this wonderfully kind and generous professor help me with my thesis, he introduced me to Kali scholars from around the world and hooked me up to live in Calcutta the following year in primo academic style.

Even though I wasn’t acting very “spiritual” at that time (my poor parents are nodding their heads vigorously right now) the divine was able to scoot my whiney petulant ass right next to one of her main men. It was like winning the Kali Jackpot, completely unintentionally. Here’s the interesting thing: I wasn’t visualizing this type of pivotal, life-changing meeting. I wasn’t intending it, I wasn’t trying for it, praying for it, or even consciously wanting it. I wasn’t doing any sort of fancy spiritual attraction moves you might learn from The Secret. In fact, in all realities, I was pretty much bitch-slapping the “Law of Attraction” that day. Yet, I still received a pretty extraordinary divine touchdown.

Why am I sharing this story? For a few juicy red reasons: To remind you that the divine can still lick you open even when you’re spiritually shut down and being a total bitch (in fact, I think She delights in goosing us when we least expect it). To have you imagine the amazing possibilities of what could happen if you’re consciously welcoming and aligning your self with the Grand Powers That Be (inside you and outside you and even hanging out in some weird wing of the Miami airport). To inspire you, no matter what mood you’re experiencing, no matter what stresses or joys or family debates you might be encountering, to keep your self primed and ready for any and all synchronistic and magical encounters that are sure to tweak your nose this holiday season.

I wish you all very red, very bright, very winky Holidays!

Last night I had a dream that a group of us were going on a trip and we had to share suitcases. I was the first to start packing a suitcase, I tried to bunch my clothes up tightly and squeeze several small travel umbrellas into the bag. When I was done packing, I stepped back and realized that my clothes, as compact as I thought they were, were actually filling the entire suitcase. There was no room for anyone else’s stuff.

This morning in meditation I pondered my baggage. What was I packing? Why did it fill the entire bag? And what the hell was the deal with the multiple umbrellas? To help ground my confusion I drew a tarot card – Ace of Wands. There was one line in my tarot book that rang my inner bell: “all securities and certainties you have been clinging to will be shaken and destroyed by the energies coming through”. Great, just what you want to hear on a Monday morning. Nothing like a little divine shake down to get your work week started right.

After meditating for a while I began to sense that the clothes represent my certainties, all my guises I’ve developed over the years, all my realizations, all my “proof” of my spiritual theories, practices, perspectives. And, apparently, there’s no more room in my Inn. The umbrellas represent protection from external elements, from being poured on from the Great Beyond, from meeting with some frizzy haired unwanted situation. Obviously, as dreams often do, this dream was hinting at an area of my psyche that is ready to be peek a booed.

Lately, I find myself in the role of author, or workshop facilitator, or presenter and part of me feels that I need to be certain of certain things: What “red” means, who “the divine feminine” is, what my point is for writing and speaking and sharing and living. What’s the point of all my studies and travels and personal experiences if I can’t be certain of some things? I mean aren’t we all trying to have a divine point for doing what we do and being what we are?

Well, our self-prescribed “point” can become to sharp, can carve us into a desert island of certainty, can slowly form a fortress of unconscious protection from the new, from taking alternative journeys. After all, what fun is it to travel to a new place (as we know, every moment we exist is a new journey, a wild adventure into beingness, a safari for the soul) if our lens of what we think “is” is so thick that we can’t truly see or experience or even smell the environment around us? We miss poignant connections with the locals, tasting new flavors and spices, and experiencing a myriad of other wonders. It’s like living through Saran Wrap. There’s no intimate connection with “what is” because we’re already certain of what is.

Certainties we may hold deep down in our unconscious are subtle, tricky little suckers, because for most of us spiritually conscious peeps who pride ourselves on being open, we don’t consciously notice where we’re packing ourselves in too tight, till our unconscious opens a new route via a dream about a suitcase on a Monday morning.

After I realized some of what I think my psyche was trying to tell me last night, I did a little of what Jungians call “active imagining” where I imagined I was unpacking that suitcase in my dream. Making room for the new. And perhaps, keeping only one umbrella, for now, till I’m ready to hop out the door bagless, with nothing but the clothes on my back come rain or shine. And one day, perhaps I’ll even dance out completely naked, or “sky clad” as the Jain mystics call it. But I can’t be certain.

After I did this little exercise, I heard my inner voice simply and quietly say:

“be certain of your uncertainties”

So how bout you? If any of this slightly allusive post resonates with you, try writing down a list of what you’re certain of - in life, in spirit, in self. Then meditate a bit on your certainties, see how your body feels when you read them? See if you can sense how you might hold on to them? Out of protection, out of some subtle fear, or because you like to know you’ve got something? Or do you hold your certainties lightly, like fine red warm sand gently pouring through your hands from somewhere else, lightly touching your skin, warming your palms, always in motion, not sticking or clinging to any part of you? There are of course, a variety of possible ways to experience our uncertain certainty. There is no right or wrong of course, it’s just important to start noticing, to keep checking your inner luggage.

I’ve been buddhafully blessed to have a bodhisattva show up in my life recently. His “cover” is that of an extraordinary Alexander Technique teacher, Tango dancer, author, and sage-like philosopher. I’ve only had three lessons, but I am already thanking every Goddess in the Universe that this teacher and this practice have shown up in my life, at this time. For a variety of reasons.

A basic reason: my right arm, shoulder, neck, and hand has been in pain for years causing me to stop practicing yoga, dance, and other activities I love, not too mention making me avoid my keyboard like it’s a medieval torture device. The real reasons, the juicy potentially transformative ones that underlie all my aches and pains: my disconnection from my body, from others, from life. My need to accept what is. Learning how to be, not just, to do. My desire to move authentically, freely, without habits, programs, beliefs, or even, ideas of how to move, getting in my way. As Rumi sang: “Move within, but don’t move the way fear makes you move”.

How does Sera move when she’s just being Sera? How do I just “be”? I’m not so sure, but I’m more than eager to learn. Or unlearn, rather. One thing is clear, the Alexander Technique is utterly and completely revealing. The body doesn’t lie. Your grace, your stuckness, your psychological issues, your fears, your heart – all show up loud and clear when you become present and start paying attention to how you’re moving, or not moving. Your head can be full of the grandest wisdom, you can be rocking the energetic world something fierce, but if all this spiritual whoop dee la isn’t embodied, what use is it really? If you don’t allow your divinity to come dancing forth through your skin, your muscles, your breath…how much are you really “living” your truth? How much are you walking your talk?

I know all this. I’ve known it for years. In fact, when people used to ask me if i was a writer because I write, or a dancer because I love to dance, or a teacher because I share information, I would always answer “Nope, I’m a mover” (but not of furniture). It’s even written in the bio of my book. I’m ready to experience this knowing, in the flesh, more often.

All I’ve done so far in my sessions is sit on a stool and stand up, with Nickolas’ hands moving with me, and yet the self-revelations have blown my spiritual socks off. There are too many to list in one post, but I will be sharing them over the next few weeks because, like any new awakening practice, the lessons and universal insights stretch way beyond the medium.

Another thing that I love about this technique is that F. Matthias Alexander (1869- 1955) didn’t create the technique under the influence of a pre-set spiritual system, he didn’t refer to Taoism or Buddhism or any “ism” in his work. He created the technique originally to help with vocal training, hence why it’s taught at Juilliard and so many great actors, musicians, and dancers are fans. Yet this secular technique has a deeply profound spiritual component - like many so-called “secular” practices - if you open your heart, expand your lens, and become conscious of your body.

In fact, the Four Skills of the Alexander Technique that Nickolas teaches are: awareness, connection, acceptance, and non-doing. Tres Taoist, eh? Alotta Yin for your Yang. Another cool thing Nickolas has asked me to practice, is to imagine a thousand armed bodhisattva (Avalokiteshvara) behind me, always waiting to help. When I type on my keyboard, or wash my dishes, or open a door, I’m to imagine that I have one thousand divine arms helping me, if I allow them to. I so dig this image. He also pointed me to an absolutely amazing You Tube clip that helped me visualize this very idea. And if you live in the Bay Area and any of what I have written resonates with you, check out this gifted teacher.

And stay tuned for more Alexander redvelations…