Breaking the Head Open

This is one of my favorite photos from Sedona. It goes a long way to explaining my process!

Thank You Rob Brezsny

Though I've not been in the habit of reading horoscopes to make sense of my life, I must admit that in the last six months or so I've taken to reading Rob's Free Will Astrology. I love this guy. Nine times out of ten he hits it out of the ballpark, but even if I don't resonate with his prognostications personally, I find his way of communicating refreshing.

The horoscope below was written for Scorpio (for the first week in March 2010), but it's his take on quantum leaping in general. It surely speaks to my "accelerated ride."  

"It's quite possible that the nature of consciousness is in the midst of a fundamental transformation. The human race seems to be getting more empathetic, more compassionate, and even more psychic. Many of us are having experiences that were previously thought to be the province of mystics, such as epiphanies that give us visceral perceptions of the interconnectedness of all life. Even as some traditional religions lose members and devolve into cartoony fundamentalism, there are ever-increasing numbers of intelligent seekers who cultivate a more discerning spiritual awareness outside the decrepit frameworks. If you haven't been on this bandwagon, Scorpio, now's a good time to jump on. If you're already on board, get ready for an accelerated ride."

Timeless

I've been home from my trip to Sedona for one week, but time has no definitive meaning for me. Not now. And certainly not while I was hypnotized by the energy field of the Red Rocks and the riparian zone around the Oak Creek Canyon.(Did I mention I fell totally and deeply in love with the Sycamore trees that line the shores of the creek?)

Like the naked story embedded in the geological landscape of the Red Rocks, being in Sedona was like living in a conflated time machine, where my past, present and future played out in curves and layers of transparent, etched stone.

I experienced each day as a swift current, teams of white foam galloping in steel gray water. Yet, when strung together, the sum was much greater than its parts. So while only two solar calendar weeks went by, my space time continuum was more akin to the nighttime dreaming process where mere seconds can feel like hours, and anything is possible. By the time I boarded my plane to Seattle, it felt like I had been in Sedona for a year.

The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion. - Albert Einstein

I've so much to say about this dance of dimensional time, though I worry I will not be able to express what I lived. Looking back at my blog entries, the metaphor is exemplified by my focus as I walked the labyrinth on my first day at the INNstitute. Each layer and curve, or circuit as they are known, seemed to show me the illusions embedded in traveling one's path. What is far? What is near? Is the end the beginning? The beginning, the end?

Then, on my last day in Sedona, as I walked along Cathedral Rocks, I was in awe of the depth of the land amplified by the layers of ecological zones, soft hills, and mineral formations that curved gently around boulders. As I breathed with the land, I said to myself "curves and layers," though it wasn't until I reread my blog that I realized the bookends of my conscious thoughts.

So what of it? Layers and curves creating illusions of land covered, life covered. Experiencing my past in the present; being fully in the moment of the beauty surrounding me; and coming to know my "future" self, all woven together, impacting each other. Yes, the sum much greater than the parts.

I don't always know what is meant by "be in the now" (and I sense it means different things to different people), but in Sedona, I experienced my past, present, and future as one living organism that I cannot separate.  These experiences seem to rise and fall together, and in this deep understanding, the past is healed, the present is illuminated, and the hope of actualizing my potentiality is real.

Prophets of Love

I can sum up my trip to Sedona already. (Though I have one full day and night remaining.) Ecstatic vibratory acceleration and expansion of love and mind-blowing divinity.

Are you smiling? Cause that's really why I wrote it with so many far out adjectives. Oh that and the fact that it's all true.

Okay, maybe I'm just intoxicated by the crisp white edges of the full moon against an unbelievably magnetic sky. Or maybe my exuberance was triggered as I watched the clawed scorpion curl it's ominous, spiky tail. Maybe it was the pot I smoked.

No matter. Tonight was just one of those nights that presented itself in a rich tapestry of love and connectedness.

Along with the natural beauty here, which stirs me so, I spent a good part of yesterday and today getting to know the lovely people who steward the INNstitute at Sedona: Connie and Andrew. Their home exudes and encourages their belief systems which they refer to as the conscious loving universe and the trust frequency.

Connie and Andrew are also living these deep evolutionary beliefs as they embrace and "fight" a mortgage crisis--much in the style of transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau, someone whom they both admire, and whose lesser-known philosophies they share through their project, The American Evolution.

I guess you could say I am under a spell. A good spell.
And there's more.

There is another "guest" here at the INN, just arrived, and I can tell you for sure quantum leaps were jumping like fresh popcorn from a hot kettle. Susan must have been feeling the energy of Sedona and the INNsitute too because she shared, under that same seductive full moon, waves of profound forgiveness and freedom from a difficult divorce. Susan, by the way, is Andrew's first wife of 28 years.

For my part, aside from offering focused love and attention as each one of these fine folks spoke to me about their relationship history with one another (which I tend to think was part of the pedal-to-the metal alchemy tonight), I stepped into owning that I am on a mystical path.

But wait, now that I am saying it, it's ridiculously obvious. I mean really, this is the work I've been doing since the owl literally knocked on my window signaling my initiation (see original posts) in 2007. It's the "call" I've mostly ignored for a lifetime.  

So how did I arrive at such a simple but covert awareness? By gazing at the night sky and knowing every part of me wanted nothing more in that moment than to know the sky, the stars, the universe intimately, and to see that longing as the most important thing I could do, my evolutionary contribution.

Yes, I've described this journey in many ways: knowing my multi-dimensional, quantum self; evolving my consciousness; using the words liminal, shapeshifter and freedom junkie; becoming a love machine; making contact. I've spoken about increasing my capacities, bending time, and loosening the grip of my 3D reality. ET's and UFO's fascinate me and I've taken the red pill.

But tonight, the words "mystical path" say it all.

Me, Myself and Blog: The Work of Transparency

Sedona, she does not disappoint. Not only does the theme "there are no accidents here" prevail, but curiously, the natural vortexes rising from the Red Rocks amplify that which swirls within and invites deep unconscious processes into the light.

And so it is, in the heat of my experiences here in Sedona, I am questioning the issues of transparency, authenticity, and personal disclosure as it relates to my immediate experiences, my "awakening," and writing this blog. Perhaps you can already surmise that lurking beneath these perilous questions of who, what, and how much, lies a deep core fear.

Originally, I looked at the blog as an opportunity to be accountable to myself, to share what I was learning (hoping it would be meaningful to others), and to practice the craft of writing. I did not know I would come up against the long arms of old anxieties about being judged to the point of alienation and isolation and even persecution, for simply being me. Of course, at the time, I also did not know my life would unfold on the fringes of three-dimensional reality (gulp).

“Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.” -- Mother Theresa

And so, the test of time and these pages will reveal how honest and transparent I become. I do believe it is in my best interest to move beyond my fears, and in the same breath, I feel there is a way to be measured and gentle in the process. And as always, I hope it touches others who may stumble upon these words.

More Sedona stories to come.

Finding My Way

Sedona is a trip. Waiting in line at the copy store the other day, I watched a gal carefully sizing a beautiful drawing of the chakras. In front of me a guy was packaging a draft copy of a book called "Growing Your Consciousness" (or something close to that).

Today, at the coffee shop a crone approached me and spontaneously shared about the blue light that guided her to Jesse Wilde, and how they could exchange bodies when they made love. She thought I was someone called White Dove and she liked my energy.

In the Sedona weekly newspaper, and I'm talking about your common local news rag here, there's a story about a resident man who finds heart rocks when he hikes and gives them away. He's been doing it for six years now. At first he had to hunt for them. Now they just jump out at him. I'm serious, this was an article in the paper. Oh and, he plays the flute too.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not mocking. Far from it. I'm on downright overwhelm. Do I buy the book from the local woman who talks to animals? Do I get my aura photographed? Have a psychic reading? Go on a Shamanic journey? Do I catch the lecture on the implications of Virgo in full moon or learn how to improve my psychic abilities? Should I buy some resonate crystals or a divination deck? Whoa.

It's so much to take in, my head is spinning and I can feel my immune system taking a dive.

And through it all, I'm finding my way.

For now, the guidance I receive is really quite simple. What calls to me more than anything is connecting with the amazing country here. All of it. Dry river beds, layered rocks, stark plateaus, and the bark of "alligator" trees. I am moved beyond words by the psychedelic color palette expressed in the plant world: chartreuse and periwinkle succulents and silvery bare branches; crimson dust; speckled turquoise lichen on gray stones; and agave plants, some with a single towering branch that supports dry flowers perched on spoked stems.

There is no brisk walking happening here (though I have been scrambling up rocks to see natural bridges of blond stone and far off mesas). Instead, I often find myself needing to stop just to behold the beauty and feel the joyful energy at play. Fairies, indeed.

Also, I am keenly aware of the chance meetings with people, the casual words expressed---"you look like you belong in Sedona," and "don't I know you?"---are something else to notice. Not that I am expecting anything, like, let's say, blue light to guide me to a wowy zowy sexual experience (hummm, maybe I should rethink that), but I do feel a sense of kismet lurking around the corner.

Oh and, it's only day three. OMG.

Many Paths Through the Woods

My first full day in Sedona was nothing short of magical. The energy here amplifies all that stirs deep within the psyche. The expression "there are no accidents" could be the city motto.

The day started with a walk through a seven circuit labyrinth here at the INNstitute. As I entered, I became aware that the final destination, the center circle, was close to me even as my journey began. As I slowly wound my way around, I was taken by the flow of contraction and expansion with each curve and layer.

When I arrived at the center, I spontaneously began to think about the mystical experiences that have come to me in the last few weeks. I saw, for the first time, the gentleness of the "approach" as if there was an intelligence that knows I harbor old fears based on frightening childhood experiences. 

Later that day, I met Naomi for our first hike together. I knew all was right in the world when meandering through the Peace Park, we saw a dog. (I love you Milo.) Okay, that may be stretching the magical thing a wee bit, but it's no stretch to be altered by the Red Rock cathedrals and the dance of shadow and light illuminating the relationships among the green and blue succulents, and the twisted juniper trees.

Before leaving the park, I decided to be still, close my eyes in front of the Amitabha Stupa to focus my energy. Within a minute, Naomi was tapping me to tell me there were two Javelinas just yards away foraging on the prickly cactus. She told me she had been hoping to site these outrageous looking creatures ever since she arrived in Sedona one year ago, and now with the two of us reunited, they came out into the open. We took this as an auspicious sign and vowed to research their mythic significance.

Our next adventure was to hike around the area of the Airport Vortex. Climbing just a short distance, the vista, as far as the eye can see, is a city of red rocked mesas like islands dotting a great sea. The sun was now lower in the sky and the light amplified the very essence of life all around us. It was as if everything was saying, "look at me!" And indeed, I did. With awe and gratitude.

As we were nearing the end of our walk, I glanced down and could barely believe what I was seeing; laying on its' side was the front half of a very small Javelina carcass. The ivory bones of its' tiny spine, the split hoof on bended leg, an empty eye socket (no doubt the eye itself a yummy delicacy for another desert creature), just a young one separated from its tribe and left vulnerable to the many predators lurking about.

Naomi and I were kind of in shock. And of course, being in Sedona and all, we did not take it as a random find. When I returned home I searched for clues on the meaning of the Javelina and discovered the name translated from Brazilian means "many paths through the woods." They are considered to be like Coyote, the shapeshifter, a term I often use to describe myself, though I have yet to understand it completely or claim it fully. In fact, grappling with this deep knowing is what brought me to the land of the Red Rocks.

And now, laying in bed, full and tired, I also see the young Javelina corpse as the part of me that died in order to cope with "weird" childhood experiences that were just too hard to comprehend.

A magical day, indeed.

Sedona Bound

It was early in January when Sedona began to whisper my name. I don't recall exactly how it happened, but I do remember feeling, on some level, that I was already journeying to the land of the Red Rocks. Then, the whisper turned into synchronicities and sweet connections, and before I knew it, I was on a moving stairway headed to Sedona--for real.

From the moment I arrived in Phoenix I was overcome by a deep sense of gratitude. The energy here, unlike the Pacific NW, feels more feminine and receptive. It's something about the airy trees and the light; space between space between space.

By the time I arrived at my destination in Page Springs, the sun had dipped behind the jagged cliffs that lay beyond the flat lands. I have yet to behold the Red Rocks and Sedona proper, that comes tomorrow, but I already feel I have "arrived."

My lodging for the next two weeks, the INNstitute at Sedona is a blessing I can barely comprehend. The home is perched on a bluff overlooking a forest of trees I do not know yet, and gentle rolling hills that suggest the shape of a feminine deity. It feels expansive and emergent here, as if inviting one to bend and sway and trust.

And a more auspicious start to my journey could not have been planned. I spent a few hours catching up with an old friend Robin Weeks, learning about his journey into "contemplative science" and grokking evolution from the inside out.

The inside out... exactly how I hope to connect with all Sedona has to offer.

Oh Where, Oh Where

It's been two years since my minor foray (5 posts) into sharing my life via short blogging vignettes. I don't know why I stopped. And I sure as heck don't know how to capture two years, here and now. But I want to. It has been an extraordinary time.

It began with a month long journey of mystical experiences and synchronicities unlike anything I had ever experienced. The veil parted and I "saw the light." I assumed these expanded moments of pure oneness were happening to me for a reason, and I really believed I was ushering in a new way to be human.

And then it stopped.
And I died.
Kinda.

Looking back, I see the call was just the start of a long initiation. In this time I have been a snake shedding the skin of identity and ego. I have let go of most everything that made me, me. You know what I mean. It's the answer you give when someone asks you what you're doing in life. It's your work or your hobby, your current reading list or your travels. It's the way you contribute to the world.

I dubbed this phase of my life "the disappearance of Neva." And it was hard (she says with deep gratitude for having the great privilege of taking the inward journey).

In a world where extroverts and over achievers are idolized, I retreated and under achieved. And in that place, I reviewed my belief systems, unraveled my soul contracts and grappled with actualizing my potentiality.

I went through many stages: depression, despair, fear, confusion, then ease and grace, freedom, and comfort.

When I got to comfort, I knew it was time to shift, to take the next steps of quantum leaping.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.

- Rumi

And so, through all of the micro discoveries along the way, I am in touch with the core competencies that are being asked of me. Of course, the "call" has been streaming through the mythic story of my life for as long as I can remember. I am awake. And there is work to be done.