Climbing Jacob’s Ladder (Blog #492)

This morning I woke up an hour sooner than I’d intended and couldn’t go back to sleep. I guess I got used to waking up earlier during my recent travels, and I’m blaming my Albuquerque Alarm Clock, otherwise known as my rambunctious (and adorable) nephews. Anyway, I took the opportunity to start the day slowly, to NOT–for once–hit the ground running. First I lay in bed and practiced deep breathing, tuning into the parts of my body where I hold tension, which is almost everywhere. Then I got out of bed and did a few stretches. And whereas none of it was miraculous, I did feel myself let go “slightly.”

I’m telling myself, A little progress is good progress.

Recently I read a book about tight muscles in the pelvis, and the authors said the same thing, that a little letting go, a little relaxation, is huge because you’re training the body to be in a relaxed state and not a tense one. So several times a day I’ve been checking in with my body and my mind. Am I relaxed? Am I breathing deeply? Where can I let go–just a little?

Retraining myself in this way is quite the challenge. While making breakfast this morning, I kept fighting the tendency to be doing other things–checking my phone, rearranging the knickknacks on the counter. I’m so used to being busy. But these tendencies and behaviors are just habits, and I can learn new habits. This is an idea that’s been running around in my head for a while now, that THERE ARE other ways of thinking, there are other ways of BEING in this world.

If something’s not working for you, you CAN change.

Currently it’s 12:45 PM. My natural inclination or HABIT would be to make this a longer blog, then JUMP into the shower, then rush to work. (I’m helping some friends pack today. Thank God they are respectable people. They said, “Let’s start at two in the afternoon.” None of this god-forsaken eight-in-the-morning shit.) Anyway, instead I’m doing my level best to make this short and to the point, so that I can have time to shower and such. My point is I’m trusting that this small change will–at some point–have a domino effect. Likewise, I’m trusting that a little relaxation done consistently–at some point–will have a domino effect.

This work happens slowly.

Yesterday in my book about alchemy and mysticism, I read that historic and medieval paintings often use ladders, like Jacob’s ladder, to depict the idea that personal and spiritual growth always happen in stages. Spiral staircases are used to convey the same idea–transformation is a “slow and winding” path, never a straight one. And it’s always hard work, climbing. Notice it wasn’t Jacob’s escalator. Led Zeppelin didn’t say, “And she’s buying AN ELEVATOR to heaven.” No, this work happens slowly. It’s one crooked step, then another crooked step.

So in this manner, I continue to climb.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s okay to ask for help.

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The Fires of Transformation (Blog #490)

Last night I stayed up reading a book called A Headache in the Pelvis, about how tension in the muscles of the pelvis can cause (among other things) bacterial and non-bacterial prostatitis, frequent urination, and low-back and abdominal pain. The book proposes a number of relaxation and stretching exercises to help with these issues and says that the key to relaxation is (ironically) acceptance of tension. In other words, don’t fight it. Let it be. So both last night before going to bed and today while traveling, I’ve been trying this technique–paying attention to my aches and pains while breathing deeply and trying to listen to what they may be saying.

Slow down, baby. You don’t have to work so hard.

This morning, after packing all our shit into my car (Tom Collins), my aunt, my parents, their dog, and I left my sister’s in Albuquerque. (I stepped in the dog’s shit just before we left. That’s a good omen, right?) Now we’re at my cousin’s in Oklahoma City. Currently my mother and I are sitting in the dark in the living room, since my father’s sleeping in one of the recliners in here. I think we’re all a bit worn out from the trip. Tom Collins is a comfortable ride, but thanks to our massive amount of luggage (and the coolers of drinks and bags full of snacks), we were rather cramped. Plus, it was over eight hours on the road. And personally, I’m rather sick of the road.

As my aunt said, “Next time, we’re flying.” (My dad replied, “Donna Kay, you’re not flying anywhere. Do you know what it costs to check your baggage these days?! The way you pack, you’d have to win the lottery just to afford the luggage fees.”)

To my dad’s point, my aunt DOES have one carry-on-sized suitcase filled completely and exclusively with her makeup.

I spent the entire trip today with my nose in a book about alchemy and mysticism. The book itself is concerned with historical art that conveys alchemical and mystical ideas and concepts, but what’s particularly fascinating to me is the idea of transformation. Not literally turning lead into gold, but symbolically turning lead into gold–taking something base and ugly, something that at first weighs you down, and turning it into something pure and beautiful, something that sets you free or gives you new life.

Incidentally, in classical alchemy this process of transformation was sometimes seen as occurring in five specific stages that are depicted in many paintings as corresponding birds–the raven, the swan, the peacock, the pelican, and the phoenix. (How cool is that?)

Take your challenges and turn them into the source of your strengths.

As I see it, we all have lead in our lives. Put another way, we all have emotional baggage we take everywhere we go. (Can you imagine if the airlines charged for THAT?) Here on earth, it’s simply the way it is; everyone gets weighed down. But honestly, I think we were meant to travel light, to let go of tension, of physical possessions, of emotional baggage. Think about it–we come here with nothing–we leave here with nothing. This is what turning lead into gold is about–traveling lighter–not lugging around more shit than you have to. And not that you suddenly forget your life experiences or magically make them disappear, but you find a way to process them so they don’t weigh you down like Jacob Marley’s chains. You take your challenges and turn them into the source of your strengths. Like the phoenix, you burn yourself up in the fires of transformation and rise anew from the ashes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If life can create a problem, it can also provide an answer.

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