On Sacrifice and Suffering (Blog #902)

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Mythology. There’s an idea in mythology that in order for something new to be born, something old must die. This is illustrated in the phoenix having to die before it could rise from the ashes, Jesus having to die before he could rise from the grave, and some poor pig having to die before you could eat breakfast. Simply put, death is required for life. (It’s gross, I know.) This is why so many biblical tales feature sacrifices.

Sacrifice. That’s what I’ve been thinking about today, the fact that the giving up of one thing is required for the receiving of another. Not that I’m suggesting you go out and purchase an altar. This is all symbolic, of course. For example, this week I started a rather strict diet that includes intermittent fasting, not eating for sixteen hours out of the day. This, indeed, is a sacrifice. I’m giving up sweets, breakfast, and midnight snacks. Honestly, it feels like a death, a violent one. There’s weeping of gnashing of teeth. But I want the new life that’s on the other side of this–feeling better, fitting into my pants again–so I’m willing to pay the price.

Everything comes with a price. In the television show Once Upon a Time, Rumpelstiltskin often said, “Magic comes with a price.” And whereas most people think of magic as all smoke and mirrors, something for television, I actually believe in it. Not like magic as in Harry Potter–Leviosa!–but magic as in–what else do you call the fact that there are stars in the sky or the fact that you were born here or the fact that certain people (or opportunities) show up in your life at exactly the right time? Do these things “just happen”? Sometimes, yes. There’s some amount of grace we all experience simply because we’re alive. But certain magic requires action on your part. Joesph Campbell said, “Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” In other words, you have to do something–follow your bliss, and it’s harder than it sounds–if you want the magic doors to open. You have to sacrifice. You have to pay the price.

The price. This evening I watched the final episode in Caroline Myss’s Sacred Power. I can’t recommend this series enough. Granted, Caroline doesn’t pull any punches. It’s not always fun stuff to listen to. But it’s needed. Tonight’s episode presented the idea that the consequence of living a congruent life (in which your head–what you think–and your heart–what you feel–are aligned) is that your life is going to change. Caroline says, “[Congruence] changes your life because it changes the speed at which you understand things.” And whereas this sounds great if you say it fast, it’s not–because it means you have to grow up and do something about whatever it is you understand. (This takes balls.) For example, I once dated someone and knew–deep down–on our first date that we weren’t right for each other. But we dated for three years because I didn’t trust my gut, because–and here’s the kicker–I didn’t trust myself. Were there good times? Absolutely. But the price I paid for thinking one thing and feeling another (for my head and my heart being disconnected) was that when the relationship ended, I was shattered.

Congruence. Now, after years of therapy and a lot of practice, I trust myself more. This year I’ve gone on dates and known in my gut–this guy’s an alcoholic, this guy’s on drugs. I’ve met people and known immediately–they have terrible boundaries. And not that in every case I’ve walked away, but sometimes I have. At the very least, I’ve proceeded with my eyes wide open. Now, I’ll never be able to prove that I’ve saved myself a lot of heartache, drama, and suffering, but I’m convinced I have. This too is a form of sacrifice–giving up one’s emotional pain for, in some cases, a night at home alone.

Suffering. Unfortunately, sacrifice is often associated with suffering. The story of Christ on the cross probably has something to do with this. That being said, there’s a story in The Acts of John that Christ danced on his way to the cross. This means he willingly gave up (sacrificed) his life for the resurrection and all that came with it. He said, “Not my will, but yours.” This is how I think sacrifice is best approached. Open your arms. Let it go, Nancy. Does it suck to give up chocolate cake for breakfast, a date with a hot guy, or time with someone fun? Sure. But it sucks worse to damage your body, date a train wreck, and be friends with someone who isn’t really your friend at all. Said another say, you either pay now, or you pay even more later.

I suggest paying now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can hang on and put everything safely in its place, and then at some point, we’re forced to let go.

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On Where You Are Anchored (Blog #845)

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Here’s something weird. A few days ago I went shopping and bought two new t-shirts. One of them, pictured above, has an anchor on it. I don’t know why I bought it. I used to have a necklace with an anchor on it, but I’m not particularly attracted to either anchors or sailing. I more of a landlubber. Still, I liked the shirt’s color and length, and it was the right price. Seven bucks. Can’t beat that. Well, I guess you can, since the other shirt I bought was two. But how often does THAT happen? Once in a blue moon.

Anyway, here’s the weird part. That night I started watching an online video series called Sacred Power with Caroline Myss. In the first episode she explained that each of us is quite literally an energetic being and that we all receive energy (or power) through the top of our heads, what’s often called the crown chakra in yoga. The she said that as a medical intuitive, which is essentially someone who can “read” someone else’s energy system, she could tell where a person was losing energy. When I blogged about this the other night I gave the example of my recently running into someone I didn’t want to see and how I felt like I was going to shit my pants. This means that on some level, at least for that moment, I’d given my energy or power away. If you imagined a human-shaped balloon filled with water and then imagined someone poking a big hole in that balloon’s stomach, that’s what I felt like.

Houston, we have a problem.

I realize I still haven’t told you the weird part. Hang on, I’m getting there. Caroline further explained that as a medical intuitive she gets pictures or images of where a person’s energy is “going” or who or what it’s “attached” to. For example, if you wake up every day worrying about money, pissed off at someone, or holding a grudge about something that happened to you thirty years ago, she’d get an impression of that. Strange, I know, but you can walk into a room and know when someone you love is hurt, angry, or confused before they even say a word. We’re all sensitive to energy. Caroline has simply (and finely) honed a skill we all have. Anyway, most of this information was old hat to me, but then Caroline said something I’d never heard her say before. (Remember I’d just bought that shirt.) She said, “I call these energy leaks ANCHORS.”

When I heard her say this, something clicked for me. What I mean is that I get the idea of leaking energy, a balloon that’s losing water. But an anchor paints a different picture. An energetic anchor means that you’re tied to something in the past, something outside of you that that’s holding you down and holding you back. That is, the more energetic anchors you have, the slower you move through life.

As if the synchronicity of this situation weren’t enough to think about and be amazed by, yesterday I taught a dance lesson, and one of my students (who used to be a music teacher) said she called the “one” (the first beat in a measure) the ANCHOR.

“That’s my word of the week,” I said, and we left it at that.

Then today I saw her husband (my chiropractor), and he referenced my comment yesterday and said, “I’d like you to read something,” an excerpt from the book The Energy Codes by Sue Morter. Essentially, the passage spoke about how we can project our energy outside of ourselves. We all do this, for example, when we fall in love or put someone on a pedestal. Quite literally, we give part of ourselves (or spirit) to that other person (or object, say, if you’re in love with or can’t part with–I don’t know–your favorite pair of shoes). Anyway, Sue suggests a process called “central channel breathing,” which Judith Blackstone (who wrote Trauma and the Unbound Body) also recommends. This involves breathing “from” three (Blackstone) or four (Morter) of your energy centers or chakras, which are located along your spine. For a brief explanation, click here. In my experience this type of breathing provides a sense of being CENTERED. Sue calls it being ANCHORED.

Tonight, in another synchronistic moment, my dad, without any previous explanation from me, commented on my shirt and said, “Are you anchored to yourself?”

“That’s the idea!” I said.

What I mean is that our bodies, souls, and spirits operate best when we are anchored INTERNALLY rather than EXTERNALLY. That is, YOUR energy belongs in YOUR body. But when you worry about anything, hold grudges, or project your emotions (verbally vomit, my therapist says) on someone else, you’re essentially investing your domestic energetic dollars in a foreign bank. This is why Jesus spoke so much of giving no thought for tomorrow and of forgiving others. Both worrying and refusing to “let go” anchor or tie you down to either the future or the past. Neither of which exist outside of the thoughts in your head, by the way. So better to be right here, right now, anchored within. Better to be free.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You have everything you need.

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On Power and Empowerment (Blog #842)

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Last night after blogging I stayed up late and watched The Adjustment Bureau staring Matt Damon. (What a handsome fella.) The movie is about a politician (played by Damon) who unwittingly stumbles upon a group of angels (The Adjustment Bureau) who work to keep humanity “on plan.” I love this stuff, the idea that there’s more going on “down here” than what we can see, that there’s a great drama unfolding of which we get to play a part. I was absolutely riveted and completely amused.

Until three in the morning, that is, when I walked into the bedroom where I’m house sitting and my friend’s dog was on MY side of the bed.

“Scooter, SCOOT over,” I said.

Scooter snored.

So guess who moved sides?

Today has been absolutely marvelous. This morning I read The Adjustment Team by Philip K. Dick, which is the short story The Adjustment Bureau was based on. And whereas there were similarities, there were a lot of differences. For one thing, the short story was, well, short–just seventeen pages. For another, it didn’t involve a politician. Still, I’m fascinated by the fact that a short written over fifty years ago was the inspiration for a modern-day blockbuster movie. This the power of creativity. This is the power of words.

This afternoon I continued to read. First I finished the book I started yesterday, The Cry for Myth by Rollo May. Then I read the (short) play, The Devil and Daniel Webster by Stephen Vincent Benet (because May said it was a modern retelling of Faust). Then I read King, Warrior, Magician, Lover by Robert Moore, about four of the main archetypes (or patterns for thinking, feeling, and behaving) present in men. As most teacher of archetypes do, Moore points out that every archetype has a shadow side. For example, one shadow aspect of The King is The Tyrant. One shadow aspect of The Warrior is The Coward.

Speaking of coward, I just had to stop blogging to let Scooter outside. Never mind the fact that he has a DOGGIE DOOR! He’s just too afraid (at night) to use it. I mean, What’s on the other side?

This evening I ran some errands–bought some new socks, went grocery shopping. Then I came back home (my home for now, that is) and exercised while I watched/listened to a couple episodes of Sacred Power with Caroline Myss. Boy, that lady doesn’t pull any punches. If you’d like a dose of honesty (and who wouldn’t, really?), check her out. One of the exercises she suggested tonight was to notice–just notice–how much time you spend every day thinking about what anyone else may think of you (for any reason). Said another way, notice how easily or often you’re humiliated or embarrassed. Because whether it’s fifteen minutes or two hours a day, that’s fifteen minutes or two hours in which you’re losing energy, in which you’re losing power, that you don’t have to.

Personally, I’m really challenged by this. I can’t tell you the number of times each day I’m distracted by what someone else might think of me. I’m like Scooter–worried. How many likes did my last post get? That photo really wasn’t my best. Does these things really matter? No. I don’t know a single person who would say they do. And yet we all act like they do. We spend so much time finding that perfect selfie angle. You know, the one that hides our fat.

More and more, I’m seeing this not only as wasted time, but also–in Caroline’s terms–wasted energy, wasted power. This isn’t just an intellectual concept. When I’m really concerned about things that aren’t my business, I can feel it in my body. I get agitated, restless, tired. Not too long ago I saw someone I’d really prefer to never see again ever, and it was like my entire spirit got up and walked out of the room. I felt like I was going to shit on myself. Thankfully, I didn’t. Instead, I did my best to pull myself together, to call my spirit back. Hey, get back here. No one else is going to scare us off. We’re a Warrior, not a Coward.

Courage.

Courage, that’s something Scooter doesn’t have much of. Just a moment ago I had to get back out of my comfortable recliner to open the door for him–again. He kept pawing at the DOGGIE DOOR but wouldn’t actually use the fucking thing. So for a moment I lost my cool and was like, What the hell, man? Is it really all that complicated?

And before you say anything in his defense, the answer is no, it’s not. I saw him use it this afternoon.

Clearly, I’m not over it. I’m working on it. Nonetheless, this is a small example of one of the many ways in which a person can lose energy or power. That is, before Scooter took my side of the bed and before he refused to use HIS DOOR, I was perfectly happy. Peaceful. But then when he, oh, simply acted like himself (his owner told me he was a real wuss), I got in a tither and lost my peace. In terms of power, I lost my CONTROL. This is really the issue when we worry about what other people think of us or–on a grander scale–when we hold grudges and resentments over things that happened two weeks or two decades ago. Rather than US controlling our internal atmosphere, we make the CHOICE to let someone or something else control it. Tying everything back to archetypes, this means we act from our shadow or disempowered self rather than from our empowered self.

Is it easy to develop and act from our empowered self? No. It’s the journey of a lifetime.

Is it worth any and all effort it takes to do so?

Absolutely.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You've really got to believe in yourself and what you're doing. Again, it comes down to integrity and making something solid of yourself, something that's so well-built on the inside that it can handle any storm.

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