Felt Sense

From The Journey (Brown 1992) As cited in Chapter 14 of Lenses by Kraus (2008).

This is Tom Brown Jr. sharing how "Grandfather" described an inner vision:

"The tightness in your gut when you tried to remember but could not was your Inner Vision trying desperately to talk to you. . . . That tension, that deep gut feeling, is exactly how our inner vision tried to talk to us. Thus when the answer is finally found on a logical level, the gut reacts with the release of tension. Your greater self is so relieved that you have found an answer, an answer that it knew all the time."





Something else shared in the book is by Gendlin (1996, p.37-38).:

"the odd feeling of knowing you have forgotten something. . . . You are troubled by the felt sense. . . . Notice that you don't have factual data. You have an inner aura, an internal taste. Your body knows but you don't. . . . Then suddenly, from this felt sense, it bursts to the surface [remembering what you forgot]. Somewhere in your body, something releases, some tight thing lets go."

As I walk this line, I am bound by the other side
And it's for my heart that I'll live.

--Warpaint

Honey of My Failures

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt --marvelous error!--
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

-Antonio Machado

"Surrender is not giving up or saying that everything is perfectly okay; it is the willingness to let yourself energetically off the hook of trying to control the outcome." ~ Shannon Kaiser

“On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

“And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

“When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

“May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.”

― John O’Donohue from To Bless the Space Between Us

The lavender lays
no longer scented.

Just like you.

They say it's bad feng shui
leaving dead things around,

yet the sprig lies on my altar.

Lies. altar, alter.


You're alive,
but not with me.

Ce n'est pas moi qui chante
c'est les fleurs que j'ai vues
ce n'est pas moi qui ris
c'est le vin que j'ai bu
ce n'est pas moi qui pleure
c'est mon amour perdu.

Jacques Prevert

Translation:

This is not me singing
it's the flowers that I saw
it's not me who laugh
it is the wine that I drank
this is not me crying
this is my lost love.

Mother Earth

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/radical-conservation/2015/aug/04/plants-intelligent-sentient-book-brilliant-green-internet?CMP=fb_gu

Obsessed

Leaves of Grass by Whitman

I took my time with this short, stellar book.  I read the 1855 original edition with a intro by Malcolm Cowley.  When you're ready for this piece, you're ready!  Take your time with it, it's funner that way.

Here are a few of my favorite lines:

pg. 28
"Loafe with me on the grass .... loose the stop from your throast,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want .... not custom or lecture,
not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice."


pg. 75 
"Dancing yet through the streets in a phallic procession..."


pg. 104 
"I swear I see not that every thing has an eternal soul!
The trees have, rooted in the ground .... the weeds of the sea
have .... the animals.

I swear I think there is nothing but immortality!
That the exquisite scheme is for it, and the nebulous float is for it 
and the cohering is for it,
And all preparation is for it .. and identity is for it .. and life and death are for it."


pg. 119
"There is something in staying close to men and women and looking
on them and in the contact and odor of them that pleases the
soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well."


pg. 141
"And that I grew six feet high .... and that I have become a man 
thirty-six years old in 1855 .... and that I am here anyhow - 
are all equally wonderful;
And that my soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other
without ever seeing each other, and never perhaps to see each
other, is every bit as wonderful"


pg. 145
"Great is life .. and real and mystical .. wherever and whoever,
Great is death .... Sure as life holds all parts together, death holds
all parts together;
Sure as the stars return again after they merge in the light, death is 
great as life."

cet amour

Cet amour
Si violent
Si fragile
Si tendre
Si désespéré
Cet amour
Beau comme le jour
Et mauvais comme le temps
Quand le temps est mauvais
Cet amour si vrai
Cet amour si beau
Si heureux
Si joyeux
Et si dérisoire
Tremblant de peur comme un enfant dans le noir
Et si sûr de lui
Comme un homme tranquille au milieu de la nuit
Cet amour qui faisait peur aux autres
Qui les faisait parler
Qui les faisait blémir
Cet amour guetté
Parce que nous le guettions
Traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié
Parce que nous l'avons traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié
Cet amour tout entier
Si vivant encore
Et tout ensoleillé
C'est le tien
C'est le mien
Celui qui a été
Cette chose toujours nouvelles
Et qui n'a pas changé
Aussi vraie qu'une plante
Aussi tremblante qu'un oiseau
Aussi chaude aussi vivante que l'été
Nous pouvons tous les deux
Aller et revenir
Nous pouvons oublier
Et puis nous rendormir
Nous réveiller souffrir vieillir
Nous endormir encore
Rêver à la mort
Nous éveiller sourire et rire
Et rajeunir
Notre amour reste là
Têtu comme une bourrique
Vivant comme le désir
Cruel comme la mémoire
Bête comme les regrets
Tendre comme le souvenir
Froid comme le marbre
Beau comme le jour
Fragile comme un enfant
Il nous regarde en souriant
Et il nous parle sans rien dire
Et moi j'écoute en tremblant
Et je crie
Je crie pour toi
Je crie pour moi
Je te supplie
Pour toi pour moi et pour tous ceux qui s'aiment
Et qui se sont aimés
Oui je lui crie
Pour toi pour moi et pour tous les autres
Que je ne connais pas
Reste là
Là où tu es
Là où tu étais autrefois
Reste là
Ne bouge pas
Ne t'en va pas
Nous qui sommes aimés
Nous t'avons oublié
Toi ne nous oublie pas
Nous n'avions que toi sur la terre
Ne nous laisse pas devenir froids
Beaucoup plus loin toujours
Et n'importe où
Donne-nous signe de vie
Beaucoup plus tard au coin d'un bois
Dans la forêt de la mémoire
Surgis soudain
Tends-nous la main
Et sauve-nous. 

Jacques Prevert

So beautiful

Black Marigolds quoted in Cannery Row
Even now 
If I see in my soul the citron-breasted fair one 
Still gold-tinted, her face like our night stars,
Drawing unto her; her body beaten about with flame,
Wounded by the flaring spear of love,
My first of all by reason of her fresh years,
Then is my heart buried alive in snow.

Even now 
If my girl with lotus eyes came to me again 
Weary with the dear weight of young love,
Again I would give her to these starved twins of arms 
And from her mouth drink down the heavy wine,
As a reeling pirate bee in fluttered ease 
Steals up the honey from the nenuphar.

Even now 
If I saw her lying all wide eyes 
And with collyrium the indent of her cheek
Lengthened to the bright ear and her pale side 
So suffering the fever of my distance,
Then would my love for her be ropes of flowers, and night 
A black-haired lover on the breasts of day.

Even now 
My eyes that hurry to see no more are painting, painting 
Faces of my lost girl. O golden rings 
That tap against cheeks of small magnolia-leaves,
O whitest so soft parchment where 
My poor divorced lips have written excellent 
Stanzas of kisses, and will write no more.

Even now 
Death sends me the flickering of powdery lids
Over wild eyes and the pity of her slim body 
All broken up with the weariness of joy;
The little red flowers of her breasts to be my comfort 
Moving above scarves, and for my sorrow
Wet crimson lips that once I marked as mine.

Even now 
They chatter her weakness through the two bazaars
Who was so strong to love me. And small men 
That buy and sell for silver being slaves
Crinkles the fat about their eyes; and yet 
No Prince of the Cities of the Sea has taken her,
Leading to his grim bed. Little lonely one,
You cling to me as a garment clings; my girl.

Even now 
I love long black eyes that caress like silk,
Ever and ever sad and laughing eyes,
Whose lids make such sweet shadow when they close 
It seems another beautiful look of hers.
I love a fresh mouth, ah, a scented mouth,
And curving hair, subtle as a smoke,
And light fingers, and laughter of green gems.

Even now 
I remember that you made answer very softly,
We being one soul, your hand on my hair,
The burning memory rounding your near lips;
I have seen the preistesses of Rati make love at moon fall 
And then in a carpeted hall with a bright gold lamp 
Lie down carelessly anywhere to sleep.

Continued...

Beautiful

Join!

There is this cave
In the air behind my body
That nobody is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
Closing around a blossom of fire.
When I stand upright in the wind,
My bones turn to dark emeralds.

by James Arlington Wright

You have sugar on your heart
and
wings on your eyes

Lace in your hair
and
velvet for thighs

harmony in your ears
and
shadows,
where you disappear.


But all i can focus on
are
the
colours

dAnciNg on your upper
and
lower
lips.

I revolve in my muse of color and shape

I take Note of the Sound of life

It is breath

It is the ocean waves

It is the fabric scuttling away from my ankles as I spin,

“looking up” to Mother Earth

below

 me.

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-18329/5-simple-sanskrit-words-to-live-by.html

Romance Yourself.

Do something sweet for yourself today.

Excerpt from Yoga Skills for Therapists by Amy Weintraub

We know how easy it is to numb out, to find ways to distract ourselves from our own difficult emotions. When painful feelings arise for clients, unhealthy patterns may reassert themselves -- default strategies like bingeing on food, drugs, or alcohol, zoning out on television, or oversleeping. Sometimes even healthy strategies help us and our clients avoid being honest with ourselves. We can become compulsive about exercise. Even yoga practice can be an escape from what's right in front of us -- a pressing thought or emotion that needs our attention. Yoga asanas can be practiced mindlessly, obsessively, in a driven way that blocks true self-inquiry. And meditation, too, can be an escape from difficult emotions or thoughts.

But when yoga is practiced with attention to breath and sensation, emotions arise on their own, daring us to take a look. If we don't, the body constricts. We experience stomach discomfort or a headache. When we don't turn away from what is arising, we have the perfect opportunity to cultivate self-study (svadhyaya). Exploring the opposites of belief and emotion through the doorway of the body softens our reactivity to life. Instead of constricting around a hurtful memory or clinging to a happier one, we can move back and forth, ultimately standing in the place of awareness -- both are necessary; both are the essence of life in a human body. This timeless teaching from the yoga tradition is being validated by current research on the "reconsolidation window." Neuroscientists at New York University have shown that spending at least 10 minutes with the negative belief or feeling before moving to its opposite may help release the grip of the negative thought form, including fear (Shiller et al., 2010). pg. 179 



---In a therapy session, you may not necessarily want to stay with a negative for 10 minutes, rather finding the unity of the opposites for 1 - 3 minutes each.

IT'S OKAY TO EXPLORE AND FEEL!

50 Ways to Help the Planet

50 Ways to Help the Planet

Give Right Whales the Habitat They Need

Give Right Whales the Habitat They Need

Today is Tolkien Reading Day

"Not all those who wander are lost."

Join the World! One minute meditation.

https://www.facebook.com/events/1411601305815329/

"Fear is just excitement without the breath."

Quote from: http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-17880/10-things-ive-learned-about-yoga-from-20-years-of-teaching.html

“You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”
—C.S. Lewis

We all die. The goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will. ~Chuck Palahniuk

"You want to know how deeply my soul goes
deeper than bones
deeper than bones"
I Want You~Third Eye Blind

"Books are a uniquely portable magic."
— Stephen King

"Let us read and let us dance - two amusements that will never do any harm to the world." —Voltaire

Cause karma happens, doesn't matter about which bible I got.
And I can feel it in the air, whether I read it or not.
—SOJA

If you always give, you will always have.
—Chinese proverb


"When you were born,
you cried and the world rejoiced.
Live your life so that when you die,
the world cries and you rejoice."
 —White Elk

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned"
—Alexander Pope

We are all wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams.
~Gypsy proverb



"Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life."
 —Ludwig van Beethoven

"The soul that can speak with its eyes can also kiss with a gaze."

"Your mind is your best camera . . .  Go out and take some beautiful pictures."
 —Daryl Ryman

“And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

“A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.”
― Leopold Stokowski

“If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.”
― Toni Morrison

“Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness.”
― Allen Ginsberg

"Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination
and life to everything." — Plato

Feeling

http://plantatreepose.com/movement/

Current Research

Pineal Gland
Interpersonal Chemistry
Feminine and Masculine energies
Chakra systems
Yoga anatomy

Let me know if you ever want to collaborate on writing or research!


: )

http://www.spiritscienceandmetaphysics.com/5-ways-to-raise-your-vibration/

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/03/question-to-homeless-folks-what-is-your-most-prized-possession/

Awesome ways to use tea!

Think this would be fantastic! Women on 20 dollar bills.

Women on 20's

~worth a read~

2 minutes

Take two minutes to lightly close your eyes and relax your face.  You can do this sitting, laying down, or standing.

Let you shoulders move down the back.

Inhale, allowing the belly to be big.

Slowly exhale anything that is not serving you in this present moment, drawing out all the air from the lungs.

Continue this breathing practice for about 12- 15 deep breaths.

Let you breath become natural.

Take a moment to think of two to three things you are grateful for.

Bring your palms together, thumbs touching your heart center.

Close your two minute practice how you wish.

Perhaps gently bowing the head to your practice, to your life, to the divine within.

Open the eyes, taking your time to return to "normal" activities.

Love and breath,
Charlene

A two minute poem by yours truly for Valentine's Day.

I came to be from the stars and the earth

I wandered deep inside, finding my way

You came to be from the stars and the earth

You wandered deep inside, finding your way

A collision of the cosmos came to be

When you

And me

Became we.

Facebook Free February

In honor of the first day of February yesterday, I decided to take the month off from Facebook.  Let's see how much time I save for other things like:
Meditation
Yoga
Painting
Writing
Reading.

: )

An interesting way to look at death with a connection between Jesus and yoga:

"Nidrasana (Sanskrit nidra = “to lie down, to sleep”) is a fundamental yogic
posture. It is the position we take when we sleep. In fig. 7, Jesus appears laid in the tomb. In this posture the body is at rest and, like the energy lying in a seed, is preparing to come again to life. Death in this way can be understood as a form of sleep. Death is not a final destruction of the body but a condition in which the human vessel lies hidden for a while in the womb of mother earth. Yoga is concerned with rebirth, with a life force that is continually trying to renew the physical world."

Source:
Sahi, J. (2008). Yoga and the Wounded Heart. Religion & The Arts, 12(1-3), 42-76. doi:10.1163/156852908X270926

*Note: Nidrasana is more the savasana lay down for yoga nidra meditation, at least in my interpretation.

Owning Your Own Shadow Book by Robert Johnson excerpt

The last portion of this book was absolutely fantastic.  The exploration of mandorlas connected many cultures and forms of art, religions, and cultures. 

I have always been fascinated by mandorlas and yoni shapes.  I remember over half a decade ago, I felt compelled to get out my oils and brushes, connecting them to canvas. I ended up painting something very yoni-like without realizing why, it just was so beautiful, dark, and perfect.  

"A particularly powerful form of mandorla can be seen in the customs of South American curanderos, who are a curious mixture of primitive shaman and Catholic priest. Their mesa (table) is an altar where they say Mass for the healing of their patients. They divide this alter into three distinct sections. The right is made up of inspiring elements such as a statue of a saint , a flower, a magic talisman; the left contains very dark and forbidding elements such as weapons, knives, or other instruments of destruction. The space between the two opposing elements is a place of healing. The message is unmistakable; out own healing proceeds from that overlap of what we call good and evil, light and dark. It is not that the light element alone does the healing; the place where light and dark begin to touch is where miracles arise. This middle place is a mandorla." p. 111

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

Absolutely stunning words

Jack Gilbert

The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words Get it wrong. We say bread and it means according to which nation. French has no word for home, and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people in northern India is dying out because their ancient tongue has no words for endearment. I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can. Maybe the Etruscan texts would finally explain why the couples on their tombs are smiling. And maybe not. When the thousands of mysterious Sumerian tablets were translated, they seemed to be business records. But what if they are poems or psalms? My joy is the same as twelve Ethiopian goats standing silent in the morning light. O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper, as grand as ripe barley lithe under the wind's labor. Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this desire in the dark. Perhaps the spiral Minoan script is not a language but a map. What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds.

Poem found here: http://www.smith.edu/poetrycenter/poets/theforgottendialect.htm.