Forms, Forms the Magical Fruit

 This is going to be difficult to describe.   It goes something like this:  I bring the four directions into my body.  I feel/imagine the space in front (east) side (south) back (east) and side (north) and in the process I create/feel/imagine a form of my space and the contours of same.  And its not just  physical form, its also sort of a rhythm. 

This form resonates with the process that goes on with every aspect of our lives.  We create similar energetic forms, patterns and rhythms for our work, relationships, play.  And these forms can be felt on the inside and are always changing.  Sometimes, as occurred last night we feel them most acutely--especially when these forms are in the process of changing and altering into something else, which they always are, of course, the pain of change is felt.   And this is what we are grateful for.  To become the holder and vessel of this change.  

But in some ways, we don't create:  we hold, we interpret, we notice, we attend, we nourish.  But what happens is not ours.  And it is only indirectly the result of our efforts.  And that is when we can hold onto gratitude. 

Last nights Dream was probably associated to some degree with the Regency denizen's singing of  "South Pacific" at last nights drum circle.  Because it started in an Island.  And there were only women on the Island.  I think it was during World War 2.   The women are strong and independent.  And armed.  And organized.  Men come in vehicles.  They have guns and must be stopped.  But the women have difficulty getting organized and responding.  Its not that they are necessarily surprised, but their guns don't work and they can't get them out.  I take one of them and start shooting at some of the men and it doesn't shoot bullets but kind of a beam which gradually removes his flesh and is painful to watch.  Then I get shot in the heart by one of the men and wake up.

Its interesting that the women were kind of non-plussed at the invasion of men.  And in some ways, maybe they we responding in a different way than with retaliation and/or agression.  And I was the only on reacting to the situation "like a man".  Figures :-)  

Porosity

 So it would be interesting to do sort of a meta study on therapists like Yung and Freud to determine how their patent population affected their own consciousness.    For example, Yung's work with patient populations in an insane asylum may have contributed to his consciousness and mythopoetic journeys described in the Red Book.  I wonder if he would have had similar insights had his patients been elderly affluent upper Eastside denizens of New York City.  You become who you hang out with or are exposed to.  We are freaking porous.  So porous that we even become what we read or watch on TV.  Especially me at 3 am when I read about spirit possession.  Then the fun really starts.   

And I listen to podcasts like one involving this dude Laurence Galian and I immediately sense listening to him that his consciousness, his world, differs from mine.  I can almost visualize his world orbit coming into my boundaries as I listen to him.  The energy of his world is completely different than mine and I can feel my orbit boundaries start to recoil.  So then I of course have this little voice in my head about setting boundaries and how that allows your to preserve your energy or some other such inane platitude.  Then the ever present mantra comes in, the spirit of "Welcome everything, push away nothing".   And I again realize that that is the path.  And the boundary setting is a product of fear.  

And of course, its easy for me to say this.  I live in a protected insulated environment.  I am not being overly physically, mentally, or sexually assaulted.  I can walk away to a safe place.  And  I wonder how far I can take all this no boundary stuff.  Sure, I get it for anxiety attacks, go into to it, they are your friend, no boundaries.  And my energetic practice of continually orienting myself in the four directions has an element of no boundaries.

And what really is the energy of another person?  And how are we porous?  I think there is more going on that the visual image of two amoebas coming in contact with each other.  Coming into contact with another, be it a person, an image, a thought form, whatever comes is a way of opening up another portal.  Going somewhere else.  Literally.   And I think that is the problem I have with boundaries.  That assumes we possess a certain physicality that I don't think we occupy.  We are vast.  We are empty.  We are not really here.  We are constantly moving.  And when we come into contact with someone else, the process only speeds up or goes somewhere else.  But its not like we bounce off them like particles colliding.   Its much more interesting.   Turtles all the way down bro....