Photos and pictures to come later, but we returned from a really fun time in Boston for a whale watch.  I’ll summarize here, and post links and photos in a second blog entry this week.  Work’s busy and the evenings are still filled with barn de-construction. 

The bus left at 4:30am on Saturday, and we returned home just after midnight.   Loooong day.

Once we arrived at the harbor, we boarded the large catamaran boat and headed out to sea.   I liked all the little islands we passed in the harbor, and the view of Fort Warren.  The trip out to sea took about an hour or so, and the waves were somewhat choppy (2ft chop, they said) so there was a bit of a mini-game we played inside the seating area.   I’ll simply describe it as anti-Twister, where you tried to Avoid putting hands and feet in the coloured spots on the floor.  (I was surprised just how many people get seasick, since it is exciting to me, not illness-inducing at all)

When we got out approximately 25 miles from shore, we saw whales!!!!   The humpbacks were feeding, which was really neat.  They would blow little ‘bubble nets’ underwater, to encircle the schools of krill and little fish, then swim up into the circle of bubbles and fill their mouths before diving back down and doing it again elsewhere.   All told, we saw what the captain estimated at 15-20 whales in the surrounding area,  and at least 7 individual whales in our immediate location.   They identified one as “Anvil” but did not have too many clear fluke-shots from the bridge to positively ID others.

On the way back, around 1pm, the kid slept after finally crashing from being up since 3:30am.  The return trip to shore was much calmer as we were traveling with the waves, and a steady tailwind. Returned to port around 2:30.

After this, we went to the Boston Aquarium.  That is a really neat place, with a huge, HUGE tank in the middle, full of fish and sharks, and a few eels, and the usual “big tank” sort of occupants.  (video of shark to come!)

All around the bottom were four species of penguin, which was really neat.  The African penguin sounds almost exactly like a burro/donkey, which was very funny.

After the aquarium, we played in a big fountain in the area, which was probably my son’s favorite part of the whole trip.  Shows once again that the best things are [relatively] free!   The fountain was a big flat tiled area, with little holes all around it.  From time to time, jets of water would come shooting out of the holes, in somewhat random patterns, to heights around 15 feet or so.   The kids in the area loved running through the jets, or dashing under the spouts as they rained down again.   Luckily, we had spare clothes in the bus, but for a short time, the kid got to wear my wife’s very over-sized sweatshirt in order to cover his soaking bottom.

After the fountain, we realized we had about an hour or so before the bus arrived to take us home, so we visited Kitty O’Shea’s Irish Pub.  I had the most delicious Fish&Chips I think I’ve ever eaten in my entire life, topped by a frosty Guinness from the tap.  YUMMM!!

The bus arrived a bit late (around 7pm instead of 6:30), and most of the scouts drifted off pretty quickly.   I fell asleep for a little bit, but very restlessly due to the uncomfortable seats.   Still, when we arrived back home around midnight, I consider the trip a successful adventure.

And that real bed felt extra-welcoming when we finally sprawled into it at, fast asleep almost before our heads hit the pillow.

I have a deep-rooted Dread (yes, with a capital D) regarding society today that I have tried to keep under wraps and dismissed as over-dramatic conspiracy-theory-ish folly.  Then again, I also think that dismissing such things is what got us to this point to begin with.   Thus, the unbalanced mood lately, and inability to focus on the details of things.

Recently, however, I found myself feeling altogether different about the whole topic of the Deepwater Oil disaster.

I was sitting outside last night, trying to visualize my opening ‘circle’ and was struck by a profoundly angry sky.  Physically, it was overcast and warm; a wonderful summery evening to sit outside.

Metaphorically (Etherically? Astrally?  Mentally?  I’m not really shamanic in my practices), it was an oppressive weight crushing me to the grass.   I cried.  Real little-kid-upset tears, at being berated so sternly by the Sky.  I was an ant, helpless and afraid, and scraping my meager scraps of glucose from the blades of grass and gathering dew while dreaming of building a fortress in the sandbox.   It hurt my heart, and cut my spirit.   The oil, it flows, and there’s nothing I could do about it, except be blamed for everything I did to cause it.  I was at fault.  Knowing even a single human being, made it my fault.

Honestly, it was scary as all heck, and something I’d prefer not to repeat again.  If that’s shamanic work, I’m not wont to continue it.  Yet, I think I should.

I should, because after being left feeling raped and shattered, I picked up the shards of Me and went back inside to get a drink of orange juice.  I needed something cold and soothing.   I began to feel Lighter then, and a strange sort of hopeful and bittersweet about the whole situation.

Like lancing a boil to drain the fluid before it infects the surrounding tissue, I felt relief, but not closure.

I’m left today at work with a sense that while there is nothing I can immediately do to affect the oil spill, I should continue to apply energies to the healing of the land.  It’s nature responding to humanity’s greed, and rather than fight upstream against the flow, I need to merely turn into the current and help steer away from the rocks below.

It sounds totally depressing to try typing into words, but I can’t help but feel better that it happened somehow.  Fish will die, coastlines will need cleaning, and a terrible tragedy has been unleashed.  I do not deny this.   I feel bad not feeling worse that it happened, though.

The cynic in me thinks maybe this waste of oil will speed along the endgame, so that it’s not quite as deep a trough we are sliding into? The optimist in me feels conflicted with the caring/feeling person in me that maybe lots of stuff dying will help more stuff stay alive?   (Hiroshima stopped the war, after all)

I’m not sure what I think.   It is almost a sort of Ennui, but more cynical, and resigned at Fate.

But I think a bit differently today than I have been.

Bear with things… it’s a weird river I’m rolling on…

This past weekend, I went firewalking with Andrew Steed with a wonderful friend of ours.  It was Awesome.  It was Joyful.  It was a hug-incarnate.  It was all sorts of good happy things that words seem pretty cheesy for when typed out, but still don’t come quite close to the actual Experience of.

Our young son attended, as well, and appears to have had some of the wisdom and Healing that happened there sink in much deeper than it did to curmudgeony old Maebius.  He still talks about building the fire with Intent, and growing your personal energy and Love, and SHAA!

One thing that resonated to me though, was surprisingly NOT the actual walking on coals.  For as much as I love fire, and as awesomely energizing that act was, I was most moved by events before the gathering around the embers.

Prior to the walking, Andrew led an empowering ritual where people broke wooden arrows with their bare throats!    While I’m sure our friend would have loved to see me participate, I was not called to, and was basking in the Witnessing of the whole thing.     After the arrows, they bend a 6ft rod of steel rebar!!

Now, let me tell you, I can repeat the mantras of Witnessing others, and can psychologically try explaining how it’s likewise empowering to support people doing such powerful spiritual acts, but I also admit it’s a heck of a lot of fun to do them yourself too.

This time, I surprised myself by being so caught up it the moment, so viscerally Present, that when each arrow broke, I clapped and smiled like a kid in a candy store.   There was just So.  Much.  Love!  in the room I couldn’t help myself.    When the rebar bent, I don’t think I could even really see it due to misty-eyed, tingling-spined, AWE that was radiating in that room.  I had some profound Piloerection events (mind out of the gutter!).

Even today, almost a week later, and having felt a bit of that Joy slip away over the work-week, the mental thought of that room, with those people, just shines in my heart and makes my feel 10lbs lighter.   I’m reminding myself to carry that feeling all the time, even while at work, because “I’m doing my job Anyway”, and am very grateful for the experience.

Still, the musing of this post is a new, deep-rooted realization that Witnessing, in the sacred context, is absolutely Empowering.  It is impersonal,  non-ego driven, and Participatory.  It’s potent stuff indeed.

I have a much better appreciation of that Avatar Movie, too, so to all my readers….

I see you.   <3

This feeling I have today is probably,  (well, most definitely) a result of a workshop I attended this weekend, with Andrew Steed, Kat, Mary, David, Dorita, Molly, Mary, Carly(sp?), Vinny, Aylish, etc, and a myriad of smiling faces that I can picture in my head but would bore some of you readers who know them not.

I’ll have a de-briefing post about the whole firewalk and such later this week, but today, I’m concentrating on how awesome it is RIGHT NOW.

I woke up, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and as we staggered downstairs to eat breakfast, that kid of ours remarked “I Love Toast today, SHA!”

So, we sang some silly “YEAH TOAST” song, danced around the table as my wife and I got the butter and cinnamon for it, and had the dog happily confused with our antics.

I got to work, and was asked (only semi-jokingly) by my co-worker what they put in the Kool-Aid(tm) this past weekend, since I was apparently smiling too much, and had quite the spring in my step.    I never knew it was possible to smile too much.

Must be one of those days! 

Often in those self-help books and shows, and within a number of philosophical Spiritual-teachings, I have come across the concept of speaking your voice. Take Action. Stand up for what we believe, and all that. For many (most?) of us, I’m sure that sort of thing sounds great on paper and within a daily assertion, but the actual practice of Speaking Up gets pushed to the sidelines among the day to day chores. We don’t like being on stage, sticking out in a crowd, and such.

I’m no exception, but today I wanted to try a little experiment on voice, and would challenge my readers to try this once today, and let me know any thoughts you have after-wards.

Find a quiet space, like your car, or an empty house while showering, or such, and sing along with a song. In my case, it was in my car with the radio on to a local pop-station. Change channels until you gt a song you like, and vaguely know the words to. If you are in the shower or dusting the shelves at home, run a song through your head as you say the lyrics out loud.

For this challenge, I don’t want you to simply mumble along with it. Take a deep breath, sit/stand up straight, and belt out those notes. Doesn’t matter if your voice is scratchy or sounds like a drowning camel, or even Platinum Album material. No one is around, remember?

Ideally, if you are listening to the radio, you should be loud enough to not actually hear the real singer. Overrun the lyrics in your ears with the ones in your lungs. Yell it if you want, at least one verse, if not a whole song. If you are a bit stressed and can’t think of a song, just stick to sounding a Barbaric Yawp (first part of this video).

I mean really try it, as instructed. I’ll wait…

Then, after you are done, take a little internal assessment of yourself. Do you feel silly? Do you feel guilty or worried about the neighbors? Try to ignore that primary feeling and think again.

I’m guessing that even with any ego-ruled emotions bouncing around in your head, you feel just a bit better than you did before this activity. Perhaps not much, but maybe your shoulders slump a smidgeon less for the moment, or that nagging cough feels a little less nagging this particular minute.

Be honest with yourself.

I will readily admit I don’t consistently set aside time each day for healthy things like meditation or involved spiritual musings. Yet, I wonder how much effect it would have if everyone took 1 minute to just yell or sing each day? To sound our barbaric Yawp, and sing a song of yourself.

Catharsis is underrated.

Technically, it is more related to a personality trait called self-transcendence. Self-transcendence “reflects a decreased sense of self and an ability to identify one’s self as an integral part of the universe as a whole.“

http://www.livescience.com/health/spirituality-brain-link-100211.html

My thoughts on this study are a bit divided. On one hand, it’s always kinda interesting to me how Science keeps tapping away at the walls of our unknown in search of the hollow passages and studs behind them.

On the other hand, while the physiology is described here as a deficit, could it not be that lessened Ego is actually better, and those unspiritual types are less adapted? (like having webbed feet, which are cool, but not most efficient at perambulating around town?)

I still think there’s not enough details here to really base a potential-filled claim like “Brain Bits that cause Spirituality” so I’ll simply choose to ignore and gloss past that particular facet of the headline. The study itself holds some nugget of muse-worthiness at least.

Food for thought, but I’m not sure of there’s empty calories here, or whole grains.

My wife and son have been taking Karate at a wonderful dojo near us for about two months now, and it’s awesome to see how the kid especially looks forward to classes and practices at home without any prompting. Finding that ‘thing’ you like to do is an important part of a healthy lifestyle.

However, what I was musing about is not finding a hobby, but the feeling that happens when you formally decide to make long-term effort in it. More specifically the moment of Shift when you make the decision and act upon it.

In our case, the financial outlay to attend karate for 12 months, for two people, somewhat shocked my wife. She was not concerned as drastically with the dollar amount (though that was part of it and affected a vacation plan as we shuffled the checkbook around). Instead, she kept mentioning the fact that she feels really weird/scared/impressed/burdened/freed by the fact she promised to take up an activity, twice a week, for 52 weeks, and WILL be held accountable to her promise by an “authority figure” she respects (the Sensei).

Her reaction led me to ponder other areas in life with Pivotal Moments, and how finding them can be used along a Spiritual Path.

Consider things like jumping out of an airplane, or cliff diving. Those I’ve spoke to about such activities (I’ve gone skydiving) admit more often than not that the actual freefall and landing is great, but the reason they do it is that moment of Can’t-take-it-back asthey first spring from a solid platform into the open air. The feeling of Commitment, of Willful Action is where it’s at.

I think on a deep level, that sane sense of Decision is at work in most profound Spiritual experiences, regardless of how the practitioner explains it. Devout christians often speak of “Dying to Christ” at some dark stage of life, and being lifted up again in Hope/Love due to that dedicated abandonment. Similarly, a wiccan casting circles, or Drawing Down the Moon (or any number of spiritual traditions having similar “ego-stripping”) reacts similarly in allowing the Goddess to manifest in them.

When we let go, or first step off the platform of solid daily-grind, we usually can expect Great Things. Maybe not always Safe things, but Great Changes. Harnessing that Change for a better life is the goal of any Spiritual practice, I often think.

Even when the Willful Action is meant to harm, as in the case of a suicide, I’ve heard anecdotes from survivors regarding a moment of clarity/regret/freedom felt when the act of jumping, cutting, or swallowing is performed, and before the pain or darkness creeps up. I know of one person who admits being glad they attempted suicide, not because they almost died, but for that sudden Eureka of Life-worth-living even as they tried to end their life.

There are probably hundreds of quotes along these same lines, and is a big part of many Eastern religions.

To lose yourself is to find it.

“Banish the ego and develop the spirit of surrender. You will then experience Bliss.”

Or as I prefer to think of it,
“If you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to kneel. On your knees boy”

However, the more I am studying up on UU principles, the more I fear that initial “Yay My Group!” feeling I had towards them is shifting to a sideways “eh, nice group” feeling.

It is nothing against the church. The services are varied and interesting, and welcoming of all manner of faiths. Over the weeks I’ve met a “hardcore wiccan” and a muslim from Pakistan who all meet up for community and fellowship each sunday. The coffee-chatter time is enlightening, as are the somewhat open-ended “sermons”. Yet, for myself, that openness does not fill the void I am finding in my spiritual practice.

I initially started ‘going to church’ again in order to help my son experience a faith-based community and education. In this regard, things are Great. For myself, the lack of steady ritual, beyond a simple candle-lighting, feels almost shallow. As if there is definitely spirit there, but not quite the Divine Spirit (capital S).

I am thinking the flow and content of the services is intentional, to allow for all faiths to pray as they see fit, and the vague wordings towards “Spirit” or “Higher Power” are well suited for personal perspective. Yet, in allowing all paths in, the road is over-broad and unrestrained.

I find I miss my old Lutheran services, or at least parts of them. The hymns, the processions, and the Pageantry of it all is distinctly lacking in the UU church (by design?). Yet it is what which drew me to serve as an assistant minister as a youth. I felt the power and draw of United Ritual, and knew it to be Godly.

Later, when my Path led be outside definitive Christianity, I simply changed the image of God in my head. I realized, deep down, I still held on to the appeal of Ritual.

Perhaps this is why I love drum-circles so much. While the rhythms and ‘songs’ are spontaneous, there is an almost standardized “flow” to them that seems ritualized, regardless of the participants. Likewise, some of my most powerful Spiritual Experiences have been during a more formalized ritual.

Going back to the topic of the UU church, I still get the sense that there are groups operating within the UU congregation/community, but have not integrated with them yet to feel welcome and invited. Almost every weekday, the church has something happening, yoga, Spiral Scouts, CUUPS, garden club, Bingo night, etc.

I still feel there is some potentized Spirit available within that church community, if I can shed my “visitor” feeling. However, the actual sunday services have gone from being spiritual meetings to Community meetings. This does not discredit them for what they are. It merely took me a few months to realize my own goals were slightly different than what I originally sought out by going to Church.

In summary, I’m discovering that I still need to find a “church” outside of “church”.

Then in the course of cleaning out my feed reader, I stumbled upon this bit of wisdom.

I’ll admit it stuck a nerve and I just sat in my desk here at home, closed my Warcraft game, and almost wept for …um.. joy? remorse? inspiration?    Not sure what emotion it drew out of me but it was such a profoundly cathartic thing, I had to share.

http://domesticwitch.blogspot.com/2008/12/santas-wisdom-to-pagans-author-unknown.html

Strange, isn’t it?   There’s no one phrase I can pick out of this posting that set me off, but after I read it, things just sloooowly clicked and rushed aside, like some sort of “Kundalini rising” energy movement.

Enjoy, and Happy Holidays!

This is just me, coming out of his hermit cave and saying hello before another week of “I should email you” passes and Life gets distracting again.   Hi!  Hope you and your family is doing well.

I sent these out in the spirit of the season, where Thanksgiving, and post-Samhain, and pre-Yule all draw us to reflect on friends and family.   I meant nothing more than a hello, and expected nothing really in return.

Granted, the anticipation of a reply even like “Hi to you too, bye!”  did spring up in my head, but if silence was given, I still would not be offended. The message, and the vaguely cheery energy attached to it was sent out to the E-ether, and thus completed in my thoughts.

What surprised me, and still stings a bit, is one particular reply stating “Oh hi.  Just because it’s the holiday and we haven’t talked all year doesn’t mean you can be all happy now and expect to start exchanging cards/gifts all the sudden because we emailed. Don’t bother.”

I’m not even sure how to react, and without going into details, I figure this means that person will be taken off my email contact list for good now.   This individual isn’t even one who I last communicated with harshly, or had any sort of “falling out” with.

It is a distant relative, for whom the sum total of our relationship mainly consists of cards at holidays.  I haven’t physically seen them in years.

I’m guessing I touched an unknown nerve, or they are going through some sort of emotional experiences recently that I an not privy too.  Did my unexpected hello touch off some hidden feud, as family sometimes harbors?   I don’t think I’ll ever know the details, nor do I want to pry.

Yet, should I react to this with hugs, or a cold shoulder?   The cynic in me says “To heck with them, and Life’s too short for Drama.“, but then the striving-to-be-better Spiritual side of me wants to reach out again to acknowledge their concern and offer warmer wishes regardless.  This of course gets the cynic all fired up to counter “why stir the coals?“.

Interesting, how the unexpected conflict can throw our own soul-searching into clarity and help us redefine ourselves, or at least highlight the efforts of our hearts.

Any thoughts? I’d love to hear them.

(Advice on how to deal is not necessarily requested, more-so I’m after the musing on how such an incident would make you ponder things/people/Life)