Written December 21, 2010
Last night several hours before the full moon and total lunar eclipse, a guy asked me if I was planning to change the name of my blog.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Well, it’s all over the net that they made a mistake. It’s not about 2012, but 2010.”
I had seen Sam Geppi’s video and therefore knew he referred to the miscalculations leading students of prophecies to believe “all that stuff” would happen on December 21, 2012. “Won’t affect my blog. The inclusion of 2012 in the title was simply a convenient endpoint.”
I lied. Truth is, one of the reasons I’ve been “stuck” is that I’ve spent so much time following all these theories and chanelings and astrology readings and stories about black ops and conspiracy theories and—STOP! I can’t do it anymore!—that I haven’t had the motivation or desire to do anything, much less face the fact that I’ve more or less been in this situation for a number of years.
One reason for doing the blog was to give me someone to answer to—even if it is only a self-imposed, arbitrary blank page—and a deadline to write some words. I argued that the weekly practice of writing would help structure my time—“showing up to write on a weekly basis will either demonstrate that I write or don’t.”
But the truth is, it was a dodge. I was so concerned about, so consumed by, the state of affairs in this country and the world that I could not fathom putting myself out there for anything at all. “Why bother?” had been my mantra for too long.
And then one sunny morning over one of my favorite Sunday brunches, all that changed for me as I got this awesome (as in heavenly) gift:
It began with a new understanding about the rage I experienced during the first year of my quit. (I quit smoking cold turkey five years ago).
I knew that the lung center was the storehouse for grief from my studies of Chinese Medicine. I knew that smoking enabled the smoker to “stuff” feelings. I knew that a consequence of quitting was that I would have to face, finally, the emotions that had been unbearable at the moment of whatever experience triggered them, because emotions are trapped in the body—a fact I knew from being a massage therapist.
I knew all this because I was overwhelmed by emotion on all previous efforts to quit, and because I was still working at the time of those previous quits, didn’t feel I could afford being a blubbering idiot in my very public job.
What I did not know during my FINAL quit was that all the unexpressed anger would erupt as rage. This concept was introduced to me in an article by Neale Donald Walsh on spiritlibrary.com recently.
As a child, I learned that anger was unacceptable. Even disagreement is unacceptable. In fact, that belief system continues, sadly, in current families which makes it difficult for me to visit, because my primary career was as a professor and academic environments are all about freedom of expression.
This explains to me why in the ’70s I was so interested in teaching “effective communication” classes, including Assertiveness training,” through Continuing Education—over and beyond the 60-hour weeks I already worked at the college.
If I understand Walsh’s position correctly, then all those little expressions of anger, those “ouch, ‘get off my toe!’ moments,” could build into rage at a later time. That certainly sounds like my experience. Oofdah!
Now, almost five years later, I’ve just experienced this wondrous “breakfast epiphany!” over buckwheat pancakes and maple syrup with blueberries:
Now that all the ugliness has been swept out of my emotional body by the recent portals (see spiritlibrary.com for more on that), I can start fresh. In this moment, I am love. In this moment I can choose who I want to be. In this moment, the only moment there is, I can create the life I always dreamed of.
None of those intellectual ideas are new—not even to me. I learned them over twenty years ago as a yoga student at Kripalu in Massachusetts. But epiphany is not a sudden gift of intellectual thought. The first meaning of the word was about a manifestation of divine nature. It has come to mean a sudden manifestation of the essence of something, or a sudden intuitive revelation.
For my purposes, “epiphany” is indeed a sudden revelation. It is such a blast of total understanding that it is life-transforming.
My pancake epiphany was the beginning moment of my new life. I feel it in my core, in the very depths of my being. I am new.
That happened three weeks ago, and it is representative of my experience throughout this massive change we’re all going through, whether we know it or not.
Geppi, the Vedic astrologer, talked about “battles over food and money.” Others have foreseen radical changes in the uppermost levels of our government—“slates wiped cleaned” as in all those guys being removed forcibly and replaced with others, theoretically ones who have demonstrated their understanding of “right livelihood”—living in concert with each other and with our planet. Some have suggested aliens will be involved.
Frankly, Scarlett… I don’t care anymore.
For me, when I thought the world as I knew it would end a year from now, I was committed to having fun and pleasing myself through my writing. In fact, I’ve almost finished a book that is bringing me joy every day, because it’s about how I quit smoking cold turkey after being addicted for over forty years.
Now, they’ve changed the schedule, moved the deadline up. It’s not 2012, but 2010. All that stuff about political upheaval, financial ruin, wars and natural disasters will happen sooner rather than later. Or not.
Either way, you’re too late. I bailed out weeks ago from even reading that stuff because it didn’t make me feel good. You no longer have my attention. I’m remembering a lesson learned many, many years ago: whatever I give my attention to becomes my experience. Period. And that is not the kind of stuff I choose to experience.
Remember that old Indian story about the two wolves? If not, here it is again:
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil— he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.”
He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
The main gift I got from Course in Miracles was their bottom line: we all have the choice between Fear and Love. That’s it. Everything we experience can be reduced to those two words. The only real choice we have is which one we want to feed. Trust me: Love is more fun.
Allison Rae, In “Tales of the Serpent” (November 30, 2010) says that “Between now and January 4, we have the chance of a lifetime to choose a destiny for ourselves and our world.” Then “…we have another five weeks to clear emotional debris and create intent around how we’d like to shape our reality through 2012 and beyond.”
And that’s what is so special about this morning’s eclipse and solstice—reflecting on where we’ve been and choosing where we’re going. Releasing what no longer serves us, wrapping up loose ends.
After years of wandering aimlessly, I am feeling encouraged. The gift I received over brunch—the knowing that I can change my experience in this precious, present moment made all the difference. I’m looking forward to creating my new life. How about you?