The Writing Cure

I finally started reading the book, "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Goleman after hearing it being referenced to so many times. I was moved by studies that showed that writing down traumatic events can cure PTSD. At first we might write some horribly negative stuff, but after some time, we start to rationalize it and work through it. This made me look back at my own life and the traumas and challenges I have suffered in the past. With all the negative things that could have messed me up, I was lucky to have parents who encouraged the love of reading and who let me read whatever I wanted. This love of reading anything, be they horror stories, banned books, comic books or classics fostered an enjoyment for literature and an enjoyment for the act of writing. So when the shit hit the fan, when I had to move several times, deal with abuse, puberty, poverty and many other things I don't feel comfortable going into detail about; my main way of dealing with it was to write.

While my friends did drugs, to self medicate, I wrote. Looking back, I remember feelings of depression, anxiety, anger and hopelessness but instead of self destruction or medication, I always turned to writing and I do believe that is what has saved my life. I wrote poems, plays and stories. I told my diary she was my best friend and used to miss her terribly if I didn't get to confide in her. She was something I could trust, something that would never judge me harshly. Through her, I could vent my anger, be nostalgic and throw out ideas good or bad. I could create worlds of escape, find solutions no one else could think of, and move through trains of thought that led me back to sanity. I could scribble till my mind went numb, write down affirmations or shout out prayers in capital letters. I could set goals, make wishes, weave dreams and learn to forgive and love myself.

My advice to anyone who wants to take up writing is to write anything, anything at all. Don't censor yourself. Let your writing be unconditional and if you know someone who is a writer, respect their boundaries. Don't be jealous of their diaries and don't read them. You wouldn't force their therapist to tell you things that was meant to be held in confidence. If you don't like what they write, understand that you will never understand some things. They might write something overtly sexual to help deal with issues of sexuality they have. They might write something disturbingly scary to help deal with a traumatic event they witnessed when they were young. They may write about an ex lover to help themselves figure out how to be a better lover  in the present or future. They may write about politics or religion to help deal with their own confusion about society or metaphysics. You can never know why they write, if its made up, an exaggeration or satire. They may write whole novels that completely befuddle you but it helped them let go of something.

There are billions of books, stories, poems, plays and all of them came from a great mind just trying to find sanity. Hopefully, as we share our creations, we'll help others find theirs.

Time Travel and Transcending Time and Space with the Mind

Black holes have been a fascination for me since I was a little girl, enjoying books such as Samuel DeLany's "Nova" and movies such as "Event Horizon." The movie "Interstellar" really blew my mind, employing the latest optimistic ideas of black holes as proposed by expansive modern cosmologists.
Its actually the notion of time travel, alternate universes and relativity that fascinates me, having had some vivid and specific dreams come true, I've had an dark obsession with the idea. 
I believe there are universes in our minds, black holes and singularities in our psyche where all known rules don't apply. There are quantum particles, radiation, imaginary time, relative time and places where the past, present and future happen all at once.

Recently, I think I've come to terms with my musings on time travel, realizing that time is just an illusion and the present moment is all that matters and all that really exists.  I've also come to the conclusion that anything could happen and if the future is uncertain and we are jumping from one probabilistic future after another, grace can only be obtained by finding ease in every situation and not by testing our power to see what we can and can't change. No matter what paralell universe I'm in, the real question should be, did I live it to the fullest or did I spend all my time wishing I was in another parallel universe?

If I ended up with someone else fifteen years ago, would life be better? Would I have different children or would I be alone? Would I love them as much as I do the ones I have now? Of course I would. I wouldn't know about the alternate reality I am in right now. What if I chose a different career path? Who knows where I'd be now. 
This is when knowing about every choice and every probability that could ever exist in our lives can lead to nothing but drama and suffering. I'm starting to realize that true maturity comes from learning to be happy with whatever choice I make and whatever time and space I happen to encapsulate.
Once we realize that time is an illusion and that the present is the only moment that exists, the idea of changing the past and future becomes absurd. When one realizes this, one is enlightened. 

Only someone who has great control of their mental faculties could possibly use his/her mind to time travel. By then it wouldn't matter because what does changing the past or future matter to one who is already enlightened and one with everything? The only reason we want to change the past or future is because we have attachments, egos and other such issues. An enlightened being has no issues. Someone who is ruled by the ego might want the power and glory of time travel. Someone with emotional attachments may want to go back in time and right a wrong or change something they are resentful about. 
One who is enlightened doesn't have to worry about any of these things because in order to obtain great spiritual and mental strength, he/she must let go of the ego and of emotional attachments. Therefore, if learning to transcend time and space requires complete control and mastery over one's mental and spiritual faculties, the whole striving towards wanting this power comes to a halt once we have it. We no longer want to use it.

This is how I came to terms with realizing I could dream the future as a little girl. I wanted to see if I could control my visions and figure out if I could truly know which dreams were of the future or if they were just dreams. What if all my dreams were just alternative realities, portals to lives I would have lived if a I made a different choice? I used to go crazy trying to figure it all out. Then I realized, I could just let it go and enjoy the adventure.

The Wolf and Whale Spirit Animal... Shamanic Journey Log continued

If you've been keeping up with my writings, you may know that I have been using Shamanic journeying a lot this past year to help me meditate. You can read more about it here:

My Shamanic Journey Log (Spirit Animals) P.S. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

http://laceyreah.blogspot.com/2014/12/my-shamanic-journey-log-spirit-animals.html

I've been logging a lot of my journeys and most of it has been in my private journal but I have shared some insights with my readers. Much of this past year has been about exploring what the raven had to teach me and she's helped me find out of box solutions to many problems. She's also encouraged me to keep journeying and uncovering the many dimensions I have failed to notice in my past. This blog is dedicated to the whale and the wolf who I have spent a lot of time also trying to understand.

At the beginning of this year, I made a resolution to come to terms with two different sides of my personality that seemed to be at odds with each other. I put the goal out there and it seems that I found the solution through my soul searching. The wolf, who I briefly met during my journey with the raven has helped me with this immensely. I see the wolf all the time and I don't have to be in a trance to find her. She appears anytime I'm about to do something stupid--my protector. 

There are times when I hated her for it. I must admit that due to my upbringing and some genetic trait, I have always butted heads with authority figures--always the non-conformist. For some reason I saw the wolf as that, some authoritarian part of me who nagged me to be good. But through more self awareness and meditation, I realized that the wolf was only protecting me from elements that would prevent me from being the person I truly was and truly wanted to be. The wolf knew my soul, even though my own conditioning or immaturity sometimes failed to follow the path I have chosen. The wolf and I have done some bonding, some real human to animal bonding. I have not thanked her enough for saving me, for scaring away those who wanted to pull me down from a higher place into the gutter. I realized that there's a difference between letting go and being stupid; and giving into temptation is only fun if its a temptation that gels with my truest desires, and not the desire of a dysfunctional culture or flawed idea.

I’ve become more affectionate with the wolf and I realize that she is my split personality. Really, she’s only trying to protect me. She knows what my higher power really wants. Given my background, I could have ended up really messed up if it wasn't for her. I've found peace with her and peace with myself. I realized that the only reason why I've wanted to do some of the stupid shit she has saved me from, is because I wasn't loving myself enough. At one time, she was just an image who swore to protect me. Now I pet her and play with her. We have a relationship that I'm learning to nurture.

The Whale Log:

I met up with a group who practices Druid Shamanism. We did a journeying meditation inside a chamber of the Stone Henge (another story). I went into one of the chambers, having no idea what would happen but my subconscious roots brought me back to my spirit animals and I found myself swimming in an ocean. At some point, I convinced myself that I could breath underwater. Then a huge whale came. It must have been 30 times bigger than me. I latched on to its enormous body and let it  move me through the ocean. It was an amazing ride, through calm waters, powerful tides and over immense waves. The water had a strong power to move me but I also had the ability to swim and move within it. The whale indicated to me that my emotions were the same way. I could allow the water to move me, motivate me, inspire me but I also had some control as I mastered the art of swimming and diving. It was up to me to decide how to control the immense power of water.  The whale swam to a giant beating heart in the middle of the ocean floor and I latch on to it. This is all I remember.

Journeying has given me a method in which to speak to the wiser parts of my subconscious or perhaps even the consciousness of nature and the universe. It has helped me find courage and clarity in an ever changing and confusing world and it has helped me come to terms with parts of myself I didn't always know how to face. I think that if we are ever to get passed the places where we are stuck, we have to search deep down inside ourselves and explore the shadows that many dare not enter. I realize that it isn't everyone's path but I respect all paths that anyone takes to becoming a better person and overcoming one's obstacles.

For more adventures into my subconscious, check out my experience with the dragon, who taught me about oneness, here:
http://laceyreah.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-dragon.html

Four Definitions of Love

Everywhere I look, people are confused about "love" but as I grow older and wiser, the true meaning becomes more and more clear to me. So today I thought I'd clarify some confusions about love by sharing the four main types of love that people talk about. You can read about them and decide for yourself which love you are feeling and which kind of love is worth fighting for.

There is the love of infatuation. This is what some call a genetic trick of the mind to get us to spread more sperm. It is the love that poets write about the most because poets write about what they don't understand. This is a blinding, obsessive love that we have no control over. It is not evolutionary. It rules our subconscious and lower senses and it confuses us completely. It doesn't make the world go round but it does help propagate the species. It is like a fairy serum that keeps us drunk to reality. Infatuation is something we all go through, a right of passage that could lead to either healthy, genuine love; or narcissistic love. Its something that just happens, something many wish would happen to them. Often, it happens at the wrong time with the wrong person.

There is narcissistic love. This love makes us think that another person is an extension of ourselves. We extend our ego to them and believe that anything they do is done to us. Co-dependent love is the same as naracissitic love because it comes from insecurity and lack of having a sense of a self of our own. When one believes that his only role is to serve another, that he is only good for providing for his lover or being his house wife or husband, he is not admitting that there is more to him than a role he plays for her. When one expects the other person to be there for her only and to be a servant, she is basically saying that she is not whole if he is not identifying himself with her. One becomes so obsessed with filling a role, that he feels trapped and ceases to grow. There is a lingering feeling that something is missing. This is the love of people who suffocate one another and people who stalk one another. This is the love of people who kill one another out of jealousy. A narcissistic lover can't be happy if there isn't someone there to constantly feed his ego. A narcissistic lover can't empathize with her lover or think selflessly about what is best for her lover because she is too wrapped up in her own needs. This kind of love does not make the world go round. It is a prison, a selfish love that destroys the self and the self of the other.

There is genuine, committed love. This is when love ceases to be a noun and starts to become a verb. Love is something one does, not something one feels. This is when one looks at another person and decides to be there for him, through thick or thin not because one has to but because one wants to. This is a love of choice, not something that just happens. Genuine love is also respect, sacrifice and compassion. One looks at another and wants her to be the best person she can be, not just for him but for her sake, for the sake of how she will serve her family and society. We know that love can not grow if we do not evolve with it. We provide attention, nurturing and time as one does when one tends to a garden so it can grow in a healthy way. We do not see this nurturing as a chore but as a rewarding meditation and an act of joy. In doing this, the relationship grows spiritually. This kind of love creates healthy bonds, healthy children and healthy communities. It takes a strong self to show this kind of love because commitment takes risk. One knows she could lose the other at any moment but she decides to love him anyway and allow him to be free to be who he is. Putting one's narcissistic needs aside requires him to be a better person so he evolves as a result. Because there is freedom to be who one is and enough maturity for development, one feels constantly fulfilled and happy. This kind of love helps the world go round because the time one puts into it brings its own reward. It develops maturity, wisdom and growth.

There is universal, spiritual love. This is when one looks at all things deeply and with respect and kindness. This love is the philosophy of people like Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King Jr. and Mahatma Ghandi. This love branches out to all people equally and has no prejudice. This kind of love successfully won the civil rights movement, has ended the cycle of violence, has rescued endangered animals and has inspired communities to help others who are in need. This love warms the heart and elevates the soul. This is the love of forgiveness. This is a love we should all strive towards. Not only does it make the world go round, it creates positive evolutions and higher states of awareness. It is the key to enlightenment and the true bliss we think we want when we are hit with love of infatuation, only spiritual love is not an illusion but universal truth, a profound realization and the highest goal of the soul. Like, committed love, it takes work, tending and commitment. It is something we do to make the world a better place, not something we are entitled to. This love is what keeps us from destroying each other as a species

I'm the Evil Twin. ;)

When I was in college, I dated a man who seemed to be obsessed with pagers. Pagers were all the rage back then but I didn't own one. He kept saying things like, what do you think of pagers? Aren't they annoying? Do you have one? You don't? Are you sure? It was the weirdest thing. He also kept asking me about my whole name and if it was a popular name in my native country.

When we came to the end of our romance, right before we broke up, he asked me sincerely if I was seeing someone else. When I told him I wasn't, he confessed that he had a friend who was dating a girl with my exact same name. He described her to look just like me and we went to the same college. He said the only difference was that his friend kept saying that this girl was "hot for his jock" and that his friend kept having to page her. "I don't have a pager," I said, finally realizing why he kept asking me about them. By then, I think he finally believed me but that didn't matter because I had lost interest in him. I'm not good with boys who beat around the bush and can't be direct. Apparently, this had been bothering him for a while.

But the real subject of this blog is my doppleganger, the other girl who looks just like me. I know she exists because people always go up to me asking if I was at some party or telling me they saw me at a store or gym where I never was. People I have never met before act as if they know me. My overactive writer's imagination has entertained the idea that I have a twin and we were separated at birth. Due to some error, we were both given the same name. My mother said that when I was born, she got discharged from the hospital as fast as she could. She said that babies with pale, pink skin like mine were rare. Someone suggested that maybe I really was stolen. Maybe my mother saw us twins and decided that it was too much for one mother to have and that should at least get to take me. I knew my twin was out there somewhere.

The other explanation is that I have split personality disorder and that I go out and do things without remembering. This is why people say they've seen me at places I haven't been and why I date guys I've never heard of. Its possible.

I do like the twin idea, though. My writer's imagination thinks of what I could do when I finally meet her. We could take a vacation from our lives and trade places like "The Prince and the Pauper." We could show up to functions we don't want to be at. We could make weird youtube videos and tell everyone we used technology to make it look like there was two of us when there really wasn't. I've entertained ideas of making love to my twin, to finally feel what its like to be with myself the way my lover describes it to me, to touch breasts that are just like mine and kiss lips that are just like mine. Oh what fun we would have together!

I can't really say I've made an effort to go out and look for her. A google search revealed to me that there are many woman with my exact same name and they all look a bit like me (Lacey Reah is my pen name) Still, its fun to imagine and maybe one day I can write a story about my split personality or my mischievous twin.  :D

An Early Memory of Compassion

One of the earliest memories I have is living in Manilla. I must have been less than 4 years old because that’s how old I was when my parents moved away. I remember there being many stray animals that we tried to bring inside but my parents always caught us and told us to get rid of them. My dad always claimed to be allergic to animals. I even remember hiding a kitten or puppy behind the couch but my mum yelled at me to get rid of it.

I remember the torrential downpours and thunderstorms, nothing like the dry weather we get in Southern California. I remember some newborn kittens lying in our porch. I remember there being two of them and they were wailing in the wet rain. They were so tiny, only inches long. My brother and I watched and I wanted to save them. I remember how desperately I wanted to save them but my parents strictly forbade it. I watched them suffer from the shelter of our door. My brother and I put a handkerchief or napkin on top of them and watched as it disintegrated in the rain. Eventually, our parents made us go to bed. When I came back the next day, the orphans were gone.

I can recall it as if it were yesterday, the feeling of being small and helpless. I know that compassion is innate. I felt it when I was so young. My sense of compassion and curiosity was bigger than fear and apprehension, though I learned to fear things a few years later--even animals. I recall the feeling of wanting to save something smaller than me, of wanting to nurture something, even though I was so small and helpless myself. But I couldn’t do it because there was a larger authority forbidding it. I went against all of my instincts because a larger authority told me “no” and I had to obey.

I was just a child. These days, I’ve quit jobs and risked my own reputation to do what I felt was right. I hate the feeling of helplessness. I’m an adult now. I don’t have to bow down to someone larger than me. I can do things for myself. Yet, I see it all the time, adults allowing bad things to happen because some authority figure tells them not to do anything. It happens in companies, clubs and in science experiments. Our greatest sin is our fear of judgement, of authority and of other people. Because of this fear, people get beaten, raped, cheated and killed. Witnesses stand by and watch helplessly when they could do something. They don’t. They’re afraid.

This is why I’ve made it such a point to conquer fear. Without courage, no other moral has value. Action takes courage. You can’t do what is right or what you want if you are afraid. You can say you are a good person as you watch your peer rape someone in front of you without the strength to stop them. Without courage, what good is that supposed goodness?

“Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently.”

--Maya Angelou

I wrote another blog on this subject many years ago here:
http://laceyreah.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-would-you-do.html

No Dancing Allowed

I moved to New York City in 1997 without a penny to my name and with the fool notion I would get a job within a week and pay my way through school. I managed to succeed with a lot of hard work and very little sleep. Those were the golden years of the city. The internet boom was just about to start. Mayor Gulliani just came into office. The broken window policy was being enforced and crime rates were at an all time low. Meanwhile, the economy was getting better and time square was being transformed from a theatre district full of sex and strippers, to a tourist area with stores, restaurants and larger, more mainstream theaters, thanks to the Disneyfication of the area.

I witnessed a lot of alterations during those years. I still saw a lot of crime and homelessness but I saw a lot of excess and wealth as well. One memory that sticks out for me was the "No Dancing Allowed" rule that was starting to be implemented in bars and clubs everywhere. It sounds like a joke now and it sounded like one then as well. The city came up with a cabaret license and unless your club or bar owned one, dancing was strictly not allowed. There were "no dancing" signs posted everywhere. Some of them were very anti Gulliani. They stated, "no dancing allowed thanks to you know who."

I checked out one of these bars, which was known for its music and it had one of those anti Gulliani signs posted. The funny thing is, the music the bar was known for was New York swing music which is basically dance music. People started showing up to swing dance. They started swinging their arms and legs, grabbing their partners and twirling them around with furious glee. It was not your typical romantic dance, or even a fun dance. It was a rebellious dance. I saw staff members walk up to dancers and tell them to stop dancing, that it wasn't allowed. How did they respond? They danced faster, harder, in the face of all authority. It was fun to watch, fun to experience.

How, I wondered, can you put a license on dancing? How can you tax a person for tapping their feet or moving their hips? It was the most absurd law in my mind. Yet there it was; a law against dancing, smack dab in a world renown performing arts capital. Oh, and the rebels; they didn't protest calmly or march angrily. They danced hard, passionately, defiantly.

I can very much relate to F. Scott Fitzgerald's novella, "My Lost City." I lived in the ghetto, partied with the rich and watched the city go from rags to riches, to rags again. I only lived their for five years. By the year 2000, the economy was booming. Everyone had a job and everyone told me to take advantage of the good fortune while it lasted. By 2002, the market crashed badly and we had been bombed by terrorists. If New York had a personality, it would be Bi Polar. One day its gritty and poor, another artsy and rebellious. On one day its wealthy and opportunistic, another its retreating into fear and prejudice after the greatest terrorist attack that every hit the U.S. bombed thousands of its dwellers. I saw it happen but that's something else.

Before the darkness, there were good times, almost an innocent time -- if New York city could ever be thought of as innocent. I remember young, energetic people dancing hard and fast, rebel dancing over an absurd law.