Healing Words

Writing for Release

When we write with the intention of healing ourselves or connecting more deeply to our Creative Source or both, we may encounter “negatives.” Anger, disappointment, fear, jealousy, regret, even terror of admitting our own truth.

There’s nothing wrong with this.  To move through unpleasant experiences, it is often necessary to write about what happened and how we felt. Positive and negative.

A faster method for releasing is to express the held emotions in primal ways, such as crying or screaming.  If we don’t subject others to these outbursts, it’s fine. Magnetically polarized people, who hold onto more emotions longer, often must use nonverbal means to get them moving enough that space opens in our systems for new information to enter.

Any kind of expression, if it does no harm to another, is good.  If the idea frightens you, a professional facilitator can help.

Once space opens and we no longer feel at the mercy of our emotions, positive affirmations help.  Start with something simple.  I use the affirmation “I love myself” nearly every day.  How about:

  • “I can change my life in positive ways.”
  • “I express my love for myself and others.”
  • “I am grateful for my life and ______”
  • “I co-create with Source to improve my health.”

What affirmations can you use to change negative beliefs or patterns you’ve noticed?

 Take a few minutes and jot them down.  A special notebook for your affirmations or beliefs you are changing is useful, as you can look back at your record and see how far you’ve come.

Prayer

We may forget that affirmations are prayer.  When we affirm our health, we accept our role as co-creators. Instead of asking for divine intervention, we acknowledge we have a part to play with our Source.

Larry Dossey, MD has written a fascinating book, Healing Words: The Power of Prayer and the Practice of Medicine

He talks about the concept of “prayerfulness” as a state where the person does not pray for something in the traditional sense, but lives with a sense of the sacred, of being aligned with “something higher.” Prayerfulness accepts without being passive, is grateful without giving up. It is willing to stand in the mystery of life where much is hidden from the rational mind.

He mentions research on cases of spontaneous remission of cancer which suggests that prayerfulness and an indwelling spiritual sense has the most effect on the process of cancer.

Making friends with the unconscious mind, for some the seat of all healing and inspiration, seems to be key.  People who experience radical, spontaneous healing have a quality of acceptance and gratitude, as if things are all right despite the presence of disease.

When coping with a life-threatening illness, gratitude may be a stretch, but the more we can forgive, ourselves and others, we open the door to transformation.

Here is a lovely prayer to start the day. From Nick Polizzi of the Sacred Science website. If you haven’t seen the video or read his book about an amazing journey of healing that people with serious illnesses undertook with indigenous shamans, it’s worth checking out.

Dear Great Spirit,
You are inside me, within my every breath,
Within each bird, each mighty mountain.
Your sweet touch reaches everything and I am well protected.
Thank you for this beautiful day before me.
May joy, love, peace and compassion be part of my life
and all those around me on this day.
I am healing and I am healed

 


Writing for My Life

The Book of the Center

While I was working on my novel a few years ago, a thought dropped in. It had nothing to do with the book and came with the little jolt I associate with the part of me that is NOT my ego-mind. The thought was, “The Book of the Center.” I heard the words as if a voice had spoken aloud.

The first time this happened I was 28 and it scared the heck out of me. I thought either God was speaking, or I was losing my mind. Maybe both. A self-professed humanist, I had no religious convictions or grounding in metaphysics. I sought help. To no avail. Finally, I realized the voice was a part of myself I didn’t know. It seemed prudent to record what it said. That was the beginning of my awakening to spirit.

I’ve learned (the hard way) to listen. When I heard about this mysterious book, I pulled out a fresh file folder, labeled it The Book of the Center and stuck in a file with other writing projects. Going to write that someday, I thought. Wonder what it means. Sometimes I pondered if Center meant my own center or Self, my heart, a place of neutrality, or something different.

Reading The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself recently, I remembered how my Book of the Center appeared. Finally, I’ve started it.

Journaling for Healing

Between the first intrusion of the voice of my Self and the title of a book I didn’t understand came a lot of years of journaling. In the beginning I journaled to deal with the drama of my life.

In midlife, I was embroiled in a difficult relationship that made no sense. By then, I had learned to meditate, work with my own energy, and use healing methods to address my issues. With this situation, nothing worked.

One day I sat at my computer, opened a new file, and wrote my latest take on The Situation. Although I judged my relationship problems as too petty to bring to the attention of my deeper parts, I decided to try anyway. I typed a single question: “What is going on with me and this person?” Then I sat with my keys on the keyboard and waited.

After a few minutes I wrote whatever came up, without thinking or judging. No voices spoke, no visions came, I just wrote.

What I wrote was not profound or particularly clear, but it made enough sense that I asked another question, waited again, and wrote again.

That was the beginning of me using writing to connect with Self.

The more I dialogued with my Self, the more useful the exercise became. It took several years to convince me I was talking to more than my ego-mind (one of my issues is self-doubt), but I kept going. No one read my journal. I didn’t talk about it. I just kept writing because it seemed like the right thing to do. Also, I’m a fast typist and the faster I write, the easier it is to bypass the mental critic in my head.

Many others have discovered this method. It’s even mentioned in books on journaling. I teach my journaling students how to do it. The great thing is you don’t have to learn to meditate, take a class, or learn special techniques. All you need is a notebook and pen or a computer, and a mind willing to open.

An Easy Exercise for You

Have you tried it? If not, this could be the time. This is how it works.

  • Assume you have an aspect of your identity that knows more than you do, that loves you, and is willing to communicate.
  • Settle yourself and clear your mind.
  • Ask your Self a question in writing. About a crisis, a choice, a pattern you don’t understand. Anything you want to know about yourself.
  • Wait.
  • Listen.
  • Write what comes.
  • Refrain from judgment.
  • Repeat.

This works. I swear. You may have to be patient, but persistence counts.

If you give this method a try, send me a comment about your experience. I’d love to hear your reaction.

 

 

 

The Watcher Within

I was sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for a specialist’s opinion on how to handle a potentially life-threatening situation. She was called to an emergency, so I had plenty of time to read the book I’d brought. The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself by Michael Singer is a plainly written book about the Watcher within each of us.

He speaks about the voice in our heads, the one that yammers, criticizes, exhorts, judges, and generally finds fault with what we do. I know that voice. I also know it is not the “I” who can connect to my deeper wisdom. Most of my thoughts are coming, not from my deep self, but from programming, what Buddhists call “monkey mind.” Shamans and others refer to it as “predator” and “judge.”

Beliefs and ideas are thoughts. Not physical reality. Singer makes the point that if you notice who is thinking a thought, you put distance between the thought and yourself. Then you can ask, “Who is thinking that thought?”

The Watcher.

Also known as the Self, the Soul, the Heart, Consciousness, Awareness, Connection, Atman.

I call that part of me The Creative Self, since it is the source of the energy that supports my growth. It is also the energy I call upon for physical creativity–in my case, books, stories, writing of all kinds.

The analytical mind dwells on the past, recalling memories, and on the future, what might be. It is never in the moment.

The Creative Self is different. Its home is the elusive present time that every spiritual tradition mentions. Even when we try, exactly how to get there is something of a mystery. As it turns out, it can be simple. All I have to do is stop thinking. Stop letting monkey mind rule my life. Stop worrying about what could happen, what might be the problem and notice where I am now as I watch myself. This is not easy. It takes intention and persistence, but it can be done.

When I was learning to meditate, I knew there was more than one “I.” Maybe that’s why I started attending meditation classes. They were secular, aimed at teaching students how to visualize our energy so we could understand ourselves better. We learned to ground ourselves by dropping a cord of energy from the base of our spine into the center of the earth. We visualized our chakras and learned how to feel them and how to remove unwanted energy from them. It was all fascinating and eminently practical. Grounded, I could navigate my life better. Without other peoples’ energy in my field, I was less susceptible to the demands of others.

The lessons never stopped. Once you realize you are not your ego mind, that something larger than you not only exists, but can be accessed, there is no going back to a wholehearted acceptance of the drama that monkey mind concocts.

The Watcher watches. It does not exhort, command, or judge. It watches my thoughts and feelings. It watches how I react to the events of life. Of course, I must remember to access it, which is the hard part.

That day in the doctor’s office, it said to me, in the form of a thought dropping into my head, “Why do you worry so?”

My first reaction was to defend myself. To say, “Well, this could be serious. I’ve been sitting here for two hours. I’m nervous and upset. With good reason.” Then I had to laugh. I had just read Singer’s reminder about the Watcher. To withdraw from the drama that the analytical mind loves so, I stepped back (mentally) and remembered myself as Watcher. Soul. Heart. Creative Self. Which had just spoken directly into my mind!

That seldom happens without asking a direct question, either in meditation or in my journal, but that day my reading prompted it and I was grateful. The journey into my Center was neither quick nor easy. I was a stubborn, willful student who sabotaged myself at every turn. But in time I learned.

Journaling to access my Creative Self, my Center, is one of the best practices I’ve used to help myself. My next post will be about how that started and what kept me doing it for more than twenty years.

 

Your Personal Legend

When first I read the story of Inanna, goddess of heaven and earth, revered in ancient Sumer thousands of years ago, my heart leapt in recognition.

  • From the Great Above she opened her ear to the Great Below.
  • From the Great Above the goddess opened her ear to the Great Below.
  • From the Great Above Inanna opened her ear to the Great Below.

Sumerian poetry mesmerizes with repetition.  The first lines of the poem, The Descent of Inanna, tell us that the goddess of Sumer is drawn to the underworld.

When she hears the rumbling from below, Inanna is Queen of Sumer, a married woman accustomed to wielding the power of her office. She does not have to make the journey to the underworld, but she believes that her sister, the dark goddess Ereshkigal, calls her and so she abandons her holy office and sets out.

The descent to the underworld is the path of the mystic. Inanna is Queen of Heaven and Earth, but she does not know the depths of the spiritual world.

On her journey down, Inanna must pass seven gates and at each one, a gate guardian demands she divest herself of her jewels, crown, and gown, the royal me which she donned as protection.  When she arrives at the abode of her sister, she is naked.

Ereshkigal, Queen of the Underworld, lives in a dark, dry realm, the kur, the region of the Great Unknown that was given to her by the gods as her domain. In it, she eats clay and drinks dirty water.  She is childless, insatiable in her appetites and alone since her husband’s death.  She is the other side of Inanna, the bright, glorious queen of the upper realms.

In the underworld, Inanna is judged and condemned to death by her dark side.  She becomes part of the underworld. While Ereshkigal moans in agony at her fate, two beings sent by the God of Wisdom to rescue Inanna offer her empathy. She, in turn, releases some of her personal anguish, which allows her other half, Inanna, to be reborn.

Inanna wishes to leave, but no one has ever returned from the underworld. Since she was reborn there, a goddess of light who integrated her dark half, she is permitted to return on the condition that she send someone else to take her place.

And so, a passageway has been created from the Great Above, the conscious, to the Great Below, the unconscious and it must be kept open. Inanna returns to rule her kingdom, but she must not forget the part of herself that is Ereshkigal.

Why is a story more than three thousand years old relevant today?

Learning the personal answer to that question has been a lifelong quest, but even when I first read it, I knew that the journey down, into the unknown, the body, the recesses of the earth, the unconscious, was mine.

The quest for wholeness is real. The gates of initiation are real.  The necessity of joining with the denied, split off parts of the self are real. Most real is the need to keep the passage open, so the missing parts, the emotions denied, the fears pushed down, the greatness avoided for fear it is too dangerous, can be allowed to travel to the upper world.

Not an easy path, but for some of us, a necessary one.

And what about you?  Does an old story reverberate through your cells?  Ariadne?  Ulysses?   Demeter?  Apollo?

What are they whispering to you in the dark?

 

Why You Feel the Way You Do

Do you ever wonder why you feel like you do?

If you’re happy and satisfied with your life, the question may not come up.

But what about when you feel:

  • anxious
  • depressed
  • sluggish
  • out of sorts
  • stuck?

Or maybe you can’t pinpoint why you can’t get going on that creative project, stick to your exercise or diet plan, or start looking for a better job.

It could be that you’re ignoring the messages from your own body.

If you’re a creative type, things can get more complicated. Creative people often live in their heads. Exciting ideas drop in and swirl around, but they have a hard time devoting the time and energy to produce their art, writing, or music. They wander in circles, not sure how to begin, or where to find resources. They think about the future (Who would buy my book?) and don’t finish writing it.

We have ready excuses for not moving on.  “I’m stressed!  I don’t have time.  I’ll feel better after the holidays when the weather’s warmer, when my mother-in-law goes home.”

All these may be true, but they don’t answer the question, Why do you feel the way you do?

The eastern metaphysical traditions don’t perceive the mind and body as separate systems. Healing modalities like yoga, acupuncture, t’ai chi and meditation assume that mind affects body and body affects mind.  A two-way street.

Many of us have adopted this belief because we got positive results when we tried them. But the medical establishment did not give up its insistence on the separation of mind and body until Candace Pert, a molecular biologist, discovered how peptides, a protein found in every cell of the body, carry information from and to all our organs including the brain.

Her research showed that the body works more like an information processing system than a clockwork. The peptides which carry glucose to our organs, are biochemicals which Pert called the molecules of emotion. They form a network of communication, the means by which thoughts affect the chemistry of the body. As the chemistry changes, so do our feelings.

It turns out that the mystics were right.  The mind of the body is in every organ and every cell. The seat of emotion is not in the brain or the heart. It is in our cells, each and every one.

Like information, emotions travel physically between body and mind as the peptides and their receptors. In the subjective realm, we experience changes in feelings and emotions.

Pert agrees with Carl Jung’s intuition that the physical body itself is the unconscious mind. Which is why we often don’t know why we feel as we do. When we repress or discard uncomfortable feelings, we literally push them into our bodies.  Held long enough, they eventually produce stress and illness.

If we want to feel better, we can start by acknowledging and releasing our emotions from the bondage of the body. Energy therapies, yoga, acupuncture, any healing modality that involves therapeutic touch, and learning to clear the mind through meditation or prayer establish new pathways so our bodies can let our minds know what they need.

Expressing emotions in a safe environment results in more glucose being available to all the organs.  The peptides spread the word, and emotional blocks that have formed into physical blocks begin to dissolve.

Another way to open the lines of communication with your body is very simple. Journaling about what’s going on in your life and how you feel about it is a powerful tool.  It can help you get unstuck, boost your immune system, and improve your ability to make decisions and act.

All you need is a notebook and a pen!

Reconciliation: Shake Hands With Yourself

Shaking hands with ourselves can calm our emotions and reduce stress, but how do we do that?

Last week I talked about Themis, the ancient goddess of reconciliation. When she was a member of the Greek pantheon, there were two words for soul.

Psyche, the soul of the breath, has come down to us in the concept of spirit. Thymos is the second soul, of the body, the blood, the emotions.

In the west, we have lost the concept of the body having soul. When we think of intelligence, we focus on the upper realms of mind. But for the Greeks, wisdom also emanated from the emotions or instincts. It is called the “blood-soul,” the mind of the body and is associated with the heart. We experience how our body speaks to us differently than the voice of transcendence from above.

The idea of two souls was known in Egypt, the individual ba and the ka or universal soul. The Chinese have the concept of yin and yang. Western antiquity had the Eros and Logos.  These traditions honored the balance of complementary energies, male and female, electric and magnetic.

In the west, though, body and spirit became antagonists. (The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.) As reason dominated emotion, we lost the intelligence of the body. We disregarded messages from our bodies as “unscientific,” “illogical,” and the purview of fringe thinkers. Many suffer a mind/body split which contributes to the depression, anxiety, and stress illnesses so prevalent today.

Current physiological research is bridging the gap. Neurocardiology reveals that the heart is a vital organ of sensation. It codes and processes information within the autonomic nervous system. And it’s not alone.

There are many “little brains” in the body, clusters of neurons that regulate the functioning of the liver, stomach, kidneys, and intestines. Many correspond to the ancient eastern knowledge of the chakras, the energy centers of the light body.

When we express emotions, the heart has clear, rhythmic patterns. The experience of anger, frustration, and anxiety produces heart rhythms that are erratic and disordered. With emotions like appreciation, joy, love, compassion, the heart expresses an orderly or coherent pattern.

We experience subjective coherence when we are in positive emotional states. We feel “together,” “in the flow,” “integrated.” This could be the working of Themis energy.

From this research, I learned that if we can appreciate the “negative” emotions and listen to their messages, the act of appreciation helps heal the mind/body split and allows the heart to serve its natural function of reconciliation.

In my life, I noticed that even though I accept the information my body offers, I often feel annoyed. Here we go again, is the thought that streaks through my mind.

With appreciation, I can release my judgment of emotions that are inconvenient or unpleasant and bring myself into a state of greater coherence, which feels a lot better.

So, the next time, you’re upset, angry, or frightened:

  • Sit down in a quiet place
  • Calm your mind
  • Focus on your physical heart
  • Gently breathe in and out as if the air is moving through your chest
  • Imagine something you appreciate having—a person, an object, a state of being
  • For a few minutes, breathe through your heart, staying focused on what you appreciate

This simple exercise will calm you, help you come out of judgment, and bring your disparate parts into resonance. From that place, you can decide what action, if any, is appropriate.

It’s simple.  Shake hands with yourself in your heart.

Accessing our heart’s natural intelligence can create an energetic field of unconditional love and harmonious interactions – helping humanity to realize we are one Earth, one yard, one people.

Doc Childre, HeartMath Founder


 

 

 

 

 

All content copyright © 2023 by Carol Holland March. All rights reserved.