Shallow Thinking or Multidimensional?

About four years ago, I had the humbling experience of forgetting a dinner/concert engagement with a friend. I knew it was coming up, but for some reason thought it the following week. I had always been pretty good at remembering things, so I was quite shocked when my friend called around 6 pm to ask where I was. What a rush! I made the concert, but the dinner was lost. As a consequence of this lapse in memory, I began using my computer calendar with its pop-up reminders to keep track of my schedule. As long as I put the date and time in correctly it works like a charm. I chalked up my faulty memory to the effects of aging and moved on. This week, however, I just finished reading a book that suggests there might be another reason for my forgetfulness -- the internet.

The Shallows: what the internet is doing to our brains by Nicholas Carr, claims that our technology is transforming our brains and maybe not in ways that we would wish. Apparently the multitasking, quick click and surf of the internet is rewiring our brain cells to absorb many things at once but on a very shallow level. We read small snippets of text, listen to short sound bites and never getting into the real meat of things. As a result we are losing our capacity to explore subjects in depth and learn complex ideas. (Opps … I haven't lost you have I?) Research studies reveal that when people read material in an internet format of multiple links and sidebars (like you find on an iPad or Kindle), they actually absorb less information than someone reading the same material without these distractions. The same is true of completing mental tasks. Those who rely on user friendly computer help, learn a task slower then people who just follow directions. And worse, they forget it sooner. According to Carr, we are losing our capacity to focus. And our children, with their early introduction to computers, probably never learned to focus in the first place. I always thought ADD was the result of poor nutrition, but it may in fact have more to do with computer games.

The book got me thinking about my own experience. I often go to my computer with a plan to do a particular task only to realize two hours later that I completely forgot about it. I have note cards on my desk reminding me of what I need to accomplish, but the allure of the email takes me off in a million other directions. Because of my years of working in an office where my assignments were communicated by email, I am conditioned to check my email frequently. It is a habit that often breaks my concentration and causes me to lose my train of thought.

Recently I signed up for a entrepreneurial coaching program and was quickly inundated with emails from the Facebook postings of other students. They were responding to one of my own posts, so my evening quickly evaporated in a stream of clicking and commenting. My head was aching when I finally slipped into bed several hours later. Next morning, when I awoke with my brain still hurting, I was ready to jettison it all: computer, internet, coaching -- the works, and reclaim that serene life of taking walks and thinking thoughts, before the dawn of the computer age. After my usual morning yoga which alleviated some of my gloom and doom, I sat down for meditation. To my astonishment I found I was able to meditate with much greater focus than ever before. My left brain, it seems, had gone offline.

In Leonard Shlain's book The Alphabet Versus the Goddess, it is hypothesized that deep reading stimulates and develops the left side of the brain, while multitasking, scanning the environment, making quick decisions on what to notice, also known as intuition, are the realm of the right brain. The rule of the left brain has been going on for centuries and, according to Shlain, resulted in a world of violence, self-interest and domination of women. He suggests that with the advent of radio, television and the computer and their non-linear, right brained platforms for distributing information, we are gradually  balancing the two sides of the brain. You have to read his book or watch his video to catch all the nuances.

Current history seems to bare Shlain's thesis out. The last century has indeed shown a gradual empowerment of women as well as a growing interest in right brain areas such as spirituality, personal-growth, and communal consciousness. Even the rational world of science has been dipping into this, seemly more right-brained, realm with its quantum physics and the work of people like David Bohm who declared that reality consists of an "implicate order" where every relatively independent element contains within it the sum of all elements (each part reflecting the whole).

With the arrival of 2012 and our environmental and financial crises, the timing for such a mind-shift couldn't be better. One theory of nature is its tendency to homeostasis, toward balance. When things get out of whack, there is a corrective mechanism for returning to a natural harmony. Perhaps the internet is part of the plan, to get us thinking in more holistic, interdependent ways. We could use a little more compassion and interconnection with our fellow human beings and fellow creatures, and a lot less selfishness and violence. Ultimately, it is a question of whether humanity will get it together before it destroys itself. Species can go extinct. Nature will survive.

Whether the internet is friend or foe, I would advise that we all practice a bit of caution and some heightened consciousness when using our technological marvels. They will impact our brains and may well determine our survival.

What Comes Next?

I can't recall a time in my life when I did not believe in some kind of afterlife. Certainly my visualization of what that life after death might entail has changed over the years, but the certainty of my continuation has never wavered.

Although raised a Catholic with all its flowery imagery of heaven, I had a questioning mind, the result of growing up with a non-believing father and somewhat heretical mother. I outgrew this early religious training when I hit puberty, the age so many of us decide to leave the fold. This abandonment of Catholic dogma, however, did not strip me of a spiritual compass.

It was my mother who first introduced me to the IChing, the Tarot and a more esoteric view of existence. Each New Year's eve, she would pull out her dog-eared copy of the Wilhelm/Baynes book of changes and invite us to cast ancient chinese coins (purchased in Chinatown) to glimpse a picture of the coming year. Part of this yearly ritual was to review the previous year's predictions and analyze its accuracy. Little did I know at the time that I was being trained in a form of channeling, in tapping into that ethereal essence that guides all who choose to listen.

In my twenties she gave me my first Tarot deck, the Visconti-Saforza deck, the earliest surviving tarot deck. She told me that it was best to receive your deck as a gift. It certainly cost less. But possibly in the gifting she was also passing on some of her Picean energy. To this day, I rely on both the Tarot and the IChing for guidance when I am confused or uncertain.

My early esoteric training was amplified in the 70's by an exploration of mind-altering plants and the books of Carlos Castaneda. Psychotropics have a way of putting you in touch with the tenuousness of everyday reality. Castenada's descriptions of alternate worlds ignited the imagination and complimented my first-hand experience. I still recall a most vivid impression of dissolving into vibration. I was vibration and so was everything else. It took considerable mental effort to remanifest on the physical plain.

At this same time, I was also in active pursuit of a Ph.D. in sociology. It was through this study that I was exposed to the underside of the scientific method and the mathematical tools that prop it up. I discovered how results might be manipulated by the way questions are asked, the numbers shared, and the interpretations made. To be sure, sociology is one of the softest of sciences and particularly susceptible to manipulation. But once you know how the numbers work and what they mean, you can find flaws in even the hardest of sciences. At the same time, sociology revealed to me the very underpinnings of society and the way knowledge works. Knowledge is socially managed and as much a product of publicity as scientific tests. One need only look at the current "debate" over global warming to see the truthfulness of this.

As I matured, plant-induced states of mind were replaced with spiritual ones. At a Sufi camp in New Mexico, I discovered the mind expanding possibilities of slow movement, dancing, singing, drumming, whirling and chanting. Essential to the success of these practices was a clean body devoid of cigarettes, caffeine, alcohol, psychedelics, chocolate and even food. Yes, fasting was part of the regime and it certainly enhanced the spiritual states. It does make one wonder how much of this mysticism is chemical and therefore reducible to scientific facts. But what do these facts really mean? That certain stimulants excite left brain functioning? That in order to tap into other realms we need to quiet the left brain chatter? That the right brain is the doorway into exalted states and is easily overruled by its left brain brother? You bring the science, I'll bring the interpretation.

In spite of its flaws and susceptibility to manipulation, I do not dismiss science or the scientific method. I am just more careful about its claims. Like a recent one about a study that shows organic foods have no more nutritional value than the conventionally grown. It all depends on how you define "nutrition" doesn't it? The scientific method is just one way of looking at the world. It can be very reliable when applied with rigor and uninfluenced by monetary interests and preferred outcomes.

It was not until I was facing the death of my father that I directly addressed the question of the afterlife. While preparing my talk for his memorial, my partner gave me a taped recording of a talk by Kubler-Ross. I knew only that she was a medical doctor who pioneered death studies. Her tape talked about various aspects of death, but what I recall are two stories that I found utterly convincing about the existence of an afterlife.

One involved a woman in a car accident somewhere in Europe. I imagine the Alps, on some winding two lane road through the mountains. As a result of her accident the woman left her body and traveled up the long line of stopped traffic listening in on the conversations of people delayed by her accident. They were, as you would expect, complaining about the delay. The farther she traveled the more disgusted she became with life and the people in it. She was just about ready to surrender to her death when she heard the voice of one woman saying to her companion that there must have been a terrible accident and she hoped the people involved were all right. These words touched the heart of the disembodied woman. She made a note of the license plate and returned to her body. Much later, when she recovered, she researched the license plate of the car and discovered the name and address of the compassionate woman. She wrote to that woman and thanked her for saving her life and her faith in humanity.

The second one involved another car accident, this time in Arizona. A good Samaritan witnessed the accident and went over to the wreck to see if there was anything he could do. The young woman, a Navajo, asked the man to please take a message to her mother on the reservation. She told him the name and said, "Tell her I am alright and that Tommy is here with me." The woman did not survive her injuries. The man, compelled by this death bed request, traveled to the reservation and tracked down this Navajo woman. Not an easy task, I assure you having lived there myself. When he found the mother he delivered her daughter's message. The woman was at once both sad and elated. It turns out that Tommy, a cousin, had recently died himself, on the very same day the young woman had been killed in the accident. The only way she could have know about Billy is if she actually saw him on the other side.

These stories were my first encounter with near death experience (NDE). There are other, much more convincing NDE stories, ones that have external and unbiased corroboration like the story of the sneaker on the ledge. So I have become even more comfortable with my belief in a continued existence after death. What I have been less clear about is how this afterlife would manifest. Having tasted the exalted states of divine unity, I am not so attached to this individual ego -- a force that can cause so much damage to my equanimity. I am open to the idea of death being a dissolution of my spirit into a vast sea of intelligence where I am but a single droplet joined with many. What I find more difficult to accept is the notion of communities of disembodied spirits living in homes and hanging out with each other as is described in The Destiny of Souls by Dr. Michael Newton. I suppose I hoped for something more rarefied and less mundane. I am heartened by the suggestion that this may be only one level of existence after death and that there may be many other levels.

Even as I am attracted to the esoteric, I am also cautious. I do not like to be duped any more than the next person. So I am proceeding with a curious but critical mind into this next phase of my mystical journey -- a series of a free teleconference calls: The Mystery and Magic of Life and Death. There will be many opportunities to explore this very questions of what comes next.

Reality Shift

In her book, Worldshift Happens!, Carolyn North makes an argument for a shift in our dominant worldview from a predominantly objective, reductive, narrow-focused, scientific perspective to a broader, more inclusive, all parts are interrelated and holistic one. These two world views seem very much to be the difference between left brain and right brain function. The left side, the seat of language, is more logical, analytic and objective. The right side is more visual and processes experience intuitively, holistically, and randomly.

Carolyn does not propose the abandonment of the one worldview for the other but rather a better balance of both worldviews. We certainly do not want to jettison science and subject ourselves to the capricious beliefs of who ever happens to be in power or be defrauded by every snake-oil salesman that comes into town due to a lack of reliable procedure for evaluating their worth (hmmm, I think we have that now.) At the same time, the current crisis of our planet: global warming, ocean pollution, deforestation, corral reef collapse and species extinction call for an approach that is broader, more holistic and respectful of our planetary inter-dependencies.

While the development of faster computers has made it possible for scientist to create complex models and predict the consequences of many of these inter-dependencies, the orientation is still separate and at a distance. Science tries to leave us out of the picture. Or, perhaps more accurately, removes that which is being studied from the picture. However, we are all connected and all responsible. What we are doing collectively as a civilization is not just affecting those frogs over there, poor things, it’s affecting all of us. Will we figure this out before we collectively do ourselves in?

The shift Carolyn requests is much greater then the addition of a few more variables in an equation, it is an adjustment in brain focus. More right brain use! And that shift just might send us down that slippery slope into the arena of the mystical, mysterious, awesome, divine. It is the very arena that the narrow focused, linear ordered left brain invariably discounts or dismisses.

There may be a gender issue here as well. According to Leonard Shlain in The Alphabet Versus the Goddess, the bifurcation of the human brain into asymmetrical right and left brain functioning was an evolutionary response to the needs of primitive humanity. It’s a complicated theory worth investigating. Basically, early woman relied more on the right brain to gather food and rear big-brained, dependent children, while men used the left side of the brain to be more successful at hunting — and to provide meat for their periodically iron-deficient women. I told you it was complicated.

Researchers have discovered that women have between 10% to 33% more neuronal fibers in the part of the brain that connects the two sides. Woman are better at integrating the two. Being able to shutout feelings and focus on a single task, he postulates, was beneficial for men engaging in the dangerous activity of hunting.

What Shlain doesn’t explain is the antipathy left-brainers have for right-brainers. This is illustrated in the story Carolyn relates about a physicist friend, who, upon receiving a seemly magical healing from Carolyn for a bad headache, said he would rather have the headache than have rethink his whole way of knowing.

Perhaps it is simply a matter understanding, of not being able to comprehend the other perspective because the brain-connection is lacking. Actually I believe it is a matter of upbringing. So does Carolyn, who in the last third of her book envisions a society with a better balance of the two. Upbringing is at its crux.

Personally, I love the mysterious and the unexplainable (unless it’s about where I left my glasses). I love that pharmaceutical companies go into remote areas of the world to learn the healing secrets of indigenous tribes rather than discover them in their own laboratories. I am thrilled to know that the “placebo” effect, i.e. people’s belief in the efficacy a cure, frequently accounts for more healing than the drug that is being tested. Synchronistic occurrences, like a friend calling when I’ve been thinking of her, make me smile. YESSSS!

What I like even better, however, is when the unexplainable or mysterious is confirmed by rigorous proof  — like the sighting of the sneaker on a hospital ledge. According to the story, a woman took an out-of-body trip to a hospital ledge three floors about the operating room where she was undergoing a life-saving operation. During this trip, she saw a sneaker on this ledge which, it turns out, was unobservable from any other vantage point. The sighting was verified by a social worker shortly after the woman revived and shared her story.

Unfortunately the very characteristic that thrill me about the unexplainable also make them highly susceptible to deception and fraud. So I welcome scientific rigor even as I deplore its narrow-minded methodology.

What I want from our scientists, the shift I am hoping for, is a little more awe and a little less arrogance. Before dismantling a system in order to discover the mechanism of its functioning, might there be a moment to revel in the miracle of its wholeness and appreciate that this whole may indeed be greater than the sum of its parts. Also, to recognize that those aspect of a phenomenon that defy observation and measurement are not irrelevant, but simply part of the mystery we have yet to decipher. Possibly in taking that moment, the scientists may allow some of their right brain to kick in and have an intuition or illumination that yields an unexpected break-through.

I celebrate the rigor of scientific study and applaud its application in those esoteric regions such as meditation, esp, channeling,  NDE , etc. At the same time, I acknowledge the wisdom and knowing that comes from personal experiences such as spiritual insight and vision that make up the core of our personal belief and in the end are less shakable than any scientific proof. We really need both sides of our brain for optimum functioning, now more than ever.

What is your right brain telling you? When is the last time you hung out together? Isn’t it time for a play date?

Communications from the "Other Side"

The first time I heard about communications from the dead was shortly after my mother had died in 1998. I was very unsettled by her loss and talking to everyone about death. A friend of mine told me the  story about her own mother's death.

Liz (not her real name) and her sister Kate (pseudonym) were caring for their dying mother for about a week. It had been decided to let nature take its course and not to use any extraordinary measures to keep her alive. However, shortly before her death, their mother panicked and demanded an ambulance. Although they tried to dissuade her, she was not to be denied. The paramedics quickly arrived, administered CPR and transported the mother's deceased body to the hospital where it was confirmed that she was indeed dead.  The daughters, unable to ride in the ambulance or to follow, waited in the mother's apartment for news of her death. That night, strange electronic disturbances began to occur. The lights and the radio would come on and off intermittently and of their own accord. The telephone rang, but no one was on the other line. This went on all night. The next morning, bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, Liz announced to her sister that they should visit their mother in the morgue, that perhaps she was not at peace given the chaotic circumstances of her departure. So they visited their mom's body and spoke to her. They told her that she was dead now and that it was ok and they would be fine. The electronic disturbances in the apartment never recurred.

A few months later, I interviewed several people on my San Francisco TV show, On the Edge, regarding their experiences with death. One of the women in the group shared the following story:
On the day of her father's death he asked for help to take a shower, shave and dress. When all of this was all accomplished to his satisfaction, he peacefully died. As the family gathered to mourn his passing, the radio came on of its own volition playing the father's  favorite song. Soon after, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to his wife made up of her favorite flowers. There was no card and no one at the flower shop seemed able to identify who had placed the order. Furthermore, there had not yet been any formal announcement of his passing.

Over the years of facilitating grief support groups, I have heard a number of examples  of what appear to be communications from the other side. Vivid dreams, radio disturbances and recently the voice of a deceased wife speaking to her husband on his cell phone the day after she passed, asking how he was doing. Such events, whether real or random, have a comforting effect on the grieving recipients. They feel both loved and reassured that all is well with the one who has died.
While I have always believed in the validity of this sort of communication with the dead, mostly because of the wide variety of people who reported it, I was quite unprepared for the level of information revealed in the full-length documentary, Calling Earth.  Produced by a filmmaker friend of mine, Daniel Drasin, this film on Instrumental Transcommunication (ITC) interviews an amazing number of people who have attempted to scientifically studied and verify the use of electronic devices to communicate with spirits and ghosts. See wikipedia for a nice summary of ITC history. For organizations dedicated to promoting awareness about ITC and the procedures for doing it yourself see Transcommunication.org; World ITC; and Angels Ghosts .

It's a little spooky and just a little over the top, especially the audio recordings of voices from the other side. Some of its is intelligible, some quite clear, none sound human. Is this real, fantasy or fraud. Well, you get a chance to judge for yourself. Daniel is sharing his documentary with the Berkeley community next Tuesday, July 24th, 7:30 pm at the Berkeley Fellowship, at Cedar and Bonita. See SF Gate for more information.

What do I believe? I believe the world is a more mysterious place than we ever imagined. I also believe that this sort of phenomenon is ripe for exploitation and abuse. Use your discernment and turn on your wacko-meter. You don't have to accept it all to believe in an afterlife or communications from the other side. While you're at it, check out this blog post about a very talented psychic medium, Denise Lescano and an impressive communication from the other side

Conversations on Death and the End Game

Recently, my in-laws came to visit. Both parents are in their mid-eighties. My mother-in-law has just been diagnosed with breast cancer. It has been on my mind for a while now to get them to discuss their end-of-life plans. This latest news made it seem all the more imperative.

AARP Magazine just had a story about a family whose elderly mother had an unexpected fall and broke her pelvis thus ending years of independent living. It was a sobering story of the trials of finding a placement that would not crush her spirit. Neither my husband nor my sisters-in-law have a clear idea about what their folks want regarding this issue. I thought I might be able to get the ball rolling. Death and caring for the dying are, after all, the subjects of my film series, Secrets of Life and Death and numerous workshops, classes and trainings I have given around them.  The family visit offered an ideal opportunity to finally bring up the subject. Both parents, one sister and  brother all in the same place. What could be more perfect? Except, it never happened!

I discovered that it a lot harder to "start the conversation" with my own family then with perfect strangers. There's an emotional component that figures in. My mother-in-law was already showing discomfort with my initial query about her cancer treatment. Her short worded answers and insistence that she doesn't think about it because, "What can you do?" indicated to me that she was struggling to keep herself together. I certainly didn't want to distress her further. Years of socialization around avoiding unpleasant subjects and not hurting feelings stepped in. Asking her to think about being so sick she could no longer care for herself was not something I relished bringing up. Not when she was already having to think about having cancer. And weren't we having such a nice visit? Well, I just couldn't do it. But really, the truth is, the conversation needs to happen. So this morning I mailed her the AARP article on caring for parents and a note suggesting we have a discussion. Shortly after, I was told about her latest doctor visit and the likelihood of cancer in her kidney as well as her breast. Bad timing or good? We will see.

After the deaths of my own parents in 1998, I launched into making a film on facing death. I found very few people willing to discuss the subject while my parents were dying, so I made it my quest to help people lose their fears about dying by providing them with an opportunity to talk about their concerns and share their stories. Things are always less scary when you stop resisting them. The film I began in 1998 blossomed into the three-part series, Secrets of Life and Death. My film making efforts predate Bill Moyer's series, On Our Own Terms, by two years, although he finished his way before I did. Recently, I discovered, that someone else had also beat me to the punch. A very amazing woman named Ganga Stone wrote a book called,  Start the Conversation, which shares the courageous steps she took to help people, many of them with  HIV, face and embrace death fearlessly.

"Listen," she says in the first pages of her book, "Death is a transition. We all survive. Of this I am absolutely sure."

"Wow!" I thought, "she believes what I believe about surviving death, only she's not afraid to say it."

Well, actually I had been sharing similar ideas during many of my community film screening/workshops. People who come to my workshops tended to self-select. Until, that is, I began doing workshops for cancer patients. They come for different reasons. They come because death has left it's calling card. During one of these workshops, a young woman announced. "I have inoperable cancer , I don't believe in an afterlife and I am mad as hell. . ."  It was almost as though she was challenging me to tell her something different. I deflected by asking others in the workshop to share their thoughts. What could I say? I'd be mad as hell too if I thought everything stopped the moment I died. But I could not hope to convince her otherwise in the short time of our workshop. And who was I to even try? Instead, I acknowledged her right to be angry and kept my thoughts on the matter of an afterlife to myself. I spoke, instead, of the elasticity of time and the possibility of living a full life in whatever time remained. I told her that none of us really know when we will die, even her. Any of us could get hit by a bus on our way home, tonight. No offense to the San Francisco transportation authority intended. I did not bring up the subject of life after death. Was my choice correct -- not to challenge her beliefs? Ganga's book had me rethinking my response. Was I helping her with my silence?" Was this person looking to me for something more? Is that why she came to my workshop?

Ganga's book is fresh and sassy and tells the truth with no apologies or equivocations.

Body Lease: one body, brand new, for temporary use only, may lose functionality over time.
Terms: expires at any time anywhere, at manufacturer's discretion, with or without warning.

That's the contract we're born with. But we all think the contract says "Body will function optimally throughout term of lease and expire during sleep at the ripe old age of 99." And don't we feel a little cheated when things work out differently, as though we were sold a defective car and nobody is honoring the warrantee!

After shocking us out of our delusion about a long happy life, Ganga goes on to reassure us that unlike the body, the spirit, the being we really are, does not cease at death. Read her book and you might change the way you feel about dying. That's her promise. Since I already agree with her, I can not confirm this for the non-believers out there. It certainly provides some interesting proof.
As evidence, she points to the experiences of over eight million near-death survivors, from all walks of life, religion, race, social and educational level. Not only are there stunning similarities in all their stories, but more importantly everyone of them now lives without fear of death. The smoking gun, however, the incontrovertible proof that we are not our bodies is the the story of the sneaker on the ledge. Briefly, it's the story of a woman, who, during a temporary departure from her body while clinically dead, sees a sneaker on a ledge three stories above the operating room where doctors struggle to restart her heart. The existence of the sneaker is confirmed by an impartial witness shortly after she returns to life. There is no way she could have seen that sneaker from outside the hospital, from above or below. No way to know it was there, unless, she really did separate from her body. Interestingly, I had the story personally verified by a friend who interviewed the witness in the tale -- the nurse, who confirmed the existence of the sneaker on the ledge.

There is much more to Ganga's book then near death experience stories, compelling as they are. It is a whole program for changing the way you think, the way western medicine and the scientific community encourage you to think, about life and death. She is vehement in her crusade to change us. Our annihilation theory of death causes too much suffering, too much fear and grief to let it stand unchallenged, she insists. Time for change. And with the publishing of this book she takes her work to another level.

You might have noticed there is more than one conversation here. There is that ever so engaging discussion about whether we continue to exist after we die, complete with divine light and cosmic consciousness. Then there's the nitty gritty of getting there -- the medical treatments, the indignities of institutional living, the awful food and long hours of incapacity.  It was this second conversation that I found difficulty starting. But don't kid yourself, the other one lurks just below the surface. With the latest news about my mother-in-law's kidneys, we were all wondering whether this is, in fact, the end game.

After some reflection I decided I did the right thing with the woman at my workshop.  I am not Ganga. I have my own more modest vision when it come to starting the conversation. It is enough for me to provide the space for people to discuss their beliefs, fears and experiences around death. It's good for each of us to come to our own conclusions.

Getting Back to Zero

Sometimes life can feel like such a challenge. Trying to make enough money in a high inflation/high unemployment economy, keeping up with all the things you have to get done, navigating partner issues, aging parents concerns, or being broadsided by a new disturbing health issue. And if, for the moment, you have all these areas under control, there's always global warming, war in Afghanistan, corporate control of the government and a banking system that's run off with everyone's retirement funds. Add to this those nagging existential questions like: Am I making the best of my life? Am I achieving my life's purpose? Have I made a difference? It's a recipe for despair.

What to do? Escape into a movie, a Jane Austin novel, a computer game? Unfortunately, such refuge is short lived. Once the book is shut or credits roll the demons of worry are back at their post.

A friend of mine who had been away on spiritual retreat for two weeks, complained that his blissful equanimity wore off in a matter of days. How can we get back to that delicious peacefulness? How can it be sustained over time? How can we be more like those spiritual masters we read about in books -- accepting of whatever comes along? How do we get back to ZERO? Nothingness. Empty. The void. Spiritual bliss. The fool in the tarot deck blithely walking off the cliff confident in the protection of the universe.

It can feel like two separate realities vying for our attention: the reality of everyday concerns as described above, and the reality of the spirit. The reality of the spirit, open-heart, aware, compassionate, content. The spirit tells us that all is as it should be. Whatever happens it will be alright. Trust yourself, trust life. but watch out for the ego. It is the ego or rather the negative self, nafs -- as my Sufi teacher calls it, that puts a negative mental twist on all our physical experience and creates the suffering and fear. It's a matter of where you put your mind, how you interpret things.

Ok, when I am in my higher self, when I'm just back from three weeks at Sufi camp, that all makes sense.  But what about now? This moment?

Ahh! NOW. Eckhart Tolle would tells us that "NOW" is the answer. Enter the now, the present moment and suffering ceases. No past or future to concern us, only the delicious tranquility and detachment of moment to moment. In the moment, I am fed, warm, comfortable, the sun is shining, the fragrance of lemon blossoms wafts on the breeze. I am writing with ease.

Alright, this moment works, but have you ever tried to get into the moment, to meditate, to shift your mind in the midst of a mental tirade? It is amazing how violent and tenacious emotions can be. I have fought with my mind, tried to stop its awful thought loops hoping to shift into the NOW. Trying and fighting are, I assure you, not the answer. They only make the demons, the nafs, bigger.

Through much trial and error, I have found a few tools that can help me out of this situation. First, it is important to remember that spirituality is a process not a state. Like an airplane heading for it's destination, we are always making adjustments to get back on course. So don't waste any time beating yourself up for not being in the NOW, now.

Second, spiritual beings though we may be, we inhabit physical bodies which have their own needs, programing, energy fields and chemistry. Bliss is a whole lot easier when you are feeding your body good food. It is no accident that at my Sufi summer camp we eat very plain, simple foods -- lots of rice and vegetable and very little at that. Not eating, i.e. fasting, can really bliss you out, if you can get past the first days of hunger. There is lot of debates out there about the list of "good foods." Certainly don't believe the advertising hype of packaged food giants. Michael Pollan's book, In Defense of Food, as an excellent place to get some perspective on the food issue.

I actually eat a very wholesome diet -- all organic, no red meat, a lot of fruit and vegetable, super blue green algae smoothies. However, I also indulge in treats and that is my downfall. Chocolate is particularly dangerous for me as are most refined sugars. They both make me more emotional, more prone to impatience, frustration and meltdowns. Astrologically, I'm already wired with a short fuse, i.e. Scorpio rising. Sugar and chocolate are like playing with matches. I've been off chocolate lately and it helps. Sugar is another story, hence the need for the rest of these strategies.

While you're working on your diet, no easy assignment if you have been programed like most of us to go for the worst foods when under stress, you could try out some other body-directed strategies. I find talking a nice walk in nature very helpful to the stressed mind. A forest trail with minimal traffic sounds works best. Beaches with their sound cancelling surf are also excellent. But when I only have a short window of time, a park or neighborhood with lovely gardens will do. Cemeteries are also amazingly serene.

When you don't have much time, which for most of us is a chronic issue, deep, conscious breathing can bring quick results. Focus on the breath going through all the various organs or chakras of your body. Feel the sensation of the breath in you lungs. Imagine it coming in through your head and flowing out through your feet. If your mind wanders, try holding your breath for several counts between inhales and exhales. Lack of oxygen really focuses the mind.

If I am dealing with a particularly persistent mental loop or my emotions are all over the map, I find that stimulating the middle of my forehead just above the brow can work wonders. Perhaps this works because it is just in front of the cerebrum, the part of the brain that handles thought and action. By stimulating this area, I imagine that I am pulling my attention away from the brain stem, the place that is activated by survival and fear. Look at my blog, Happiness in the Brain for a brief description of the three brain areas and how they involve different aspects of our life.

The following techniques are all excellent for shifting a negative mind loop. They are not just about stimulating the forehead, but it's there:

    1.    Pranayama, specifically Nadi Sodhana: A yoga breath practice of alternate nostril breathing. Essentially, you hold both sides of your nose with the thumb and ring finger to alternate breathing through one nostril and then the other. The pointer finger and middle finger are curled into your palm with knuckles press into brow and lower forehead. The sensation of these two finger touching at the spot of the third eye, together with the periodic lack of breath from the alternate breathing help to stop thoughts and bringing attention into the moment.

    2.    TAT: is an energy therapy. Here the thumb and ring finger are placed at the inner corners of the eyes and the pointer finger touches the middle of the forehead. At the same time the other hand is holding the back of the head right at the brain stem. Perhaps it is transferring the energy of the higher mind to the lower. This technique includes some very useful thought repetitions, in addition to the physical stimulation, that are very effective in transforming negative thoughts.

    3.    The Healing Code Book technique. I must confess, I never read the book. A friend who did read the book shared the hand sequences with me. They blew my mind. Literally. Instant empty. A flash trip to Sufi camp. I have added my own positive mental reprogramming with each gesture. You can try them out or get the book for the original instructions. Here's my version:

• Cup both your hands so all the fingers are together and pointing forward.

1. Point both of your cupped hands at the middle of your forehead about 1-2 inches away.  Feel the energy coming off your fingers. Feel it in your head. Transform any negative thoughts into positive ones, e.g. I don't know how I can keep living like this. Into "Each day I have the strength I need  and each day that strength grows stronger.
2. Hold your hands over your heart with fingers just touching your sternal notch (throat). Feel the warmth of your hands on your chest. Imagine all the love in the universe, all the love you have ever received from parents, friends and lovers, all the love of your ancestors from deep into the past coming into your heart.
3. Point your cupped hands on either side of your jaw about 2-3 inches away and a little behind the hinge of your jaw. Feel the energy coming from you hands into your jaw. Imagine all the negative thoughts and judgments being sucked out of your mouth by you hands. Allow your jaw to relax. Imagine all thoughts melting in your mouth until there are no more thoughts.
4.  Point your cupped hands on either side of you temples, just 1 inch behind. Feel the energy coming into your head from your finger tips. Imagine that your fingers are filling your head with soft, gentle, expansive bliss. And this bliss crowds out all thoughts, all concerns, all sadness. There is only this soft, comfy blanket of bliss.

• Do the whole sequence three times if possible. Stay as long as you need in each phase of the cycle.

Feeling any better?


Additional strategies for getting to Zero: listening to soothing music, meditating, chanting, reading spiritual books, and writing blogs about spiritual matters. Ahhhhh.

A Waking Dream

VGA Dragon Bares Its Teeth

Two weeks ago I had what can best be described as a waking dream. A nightmare actually. The sort of a dream where you are trying to get somewhere really quickly only instead you inch along in slow motion and everything goes wrong. That was me trying to get to a screening presentation I was doing at, surprise, surprise -- The Dream Institute.

Traffic that evening was from my worst memories of the East coast. Waiting through multiple red light at each intersection. Cars lined up fifteen deep at stop signs. Time flying, my car crawling. I kept on telling myself it would be alright, I had enough time. I was in my husband's white van -- a big automatic that moves slowly. You can't rush it. You have to surrender to its own polar bear calm.

Arriving at the Dream Institute, I see to my dismay that there is no parking. (Notice the tense change, we have now entered dreamtime) I have two large speakers to tote inside, so I drive around the block. My calm is disintegrating and panic creeping in as I wait through another forever red light. With a "fuck the world" attitude, I pull my van in front of a driveway.

Low and behold, I recognize the person in the car parked in front of me. In MY PARKING SPACE! I think uncharitably. Then I see that he is with a friend in a wheelchair. They appear to be sharing some of my nightmare. They have come early to get set up, but the director has shooed them out. The woman in the wheelchair is indignant at the rude treatment she received and they are about to leave. I put on a welcoming smile and reassure them, with less equanimity than I feel, not to worry, the director will soon be gone and it will only be me. It will be good. We enter the building together. I start to calm. I'm here.

Inside is pandemonium. People rushing around leaving from a meeting poorly timed to end just as I arrive. The director is, indeed, not very welcoming. She reminds me that she knows nothing about the technology and that I am on my own. I have talked to Richard earlier in the week, who is familiar with the equipment. I'm ready. The wiring to the speakers is a bit of a challenge, not long enough, few outlets, but my friends are helping and we are moving efficiently. Opps, too far from the screen, move everything closer, shift all the wires. It's ok, we're almost there. I pop the DVD into the computer and … and … nothing. No signal. We push buttons, reboot the computer. Still nothing. Maybe the projector doesn't like the Mac.

It is close to starting time. My hands are sweating and my voice is getting strained. We swap my Mac for the Institute's PC. Still no go. We read the directions again. We push buttons. We reboot. Nothing! People are gathering outside. The panic is creeping in again. The director suggests getting one of the guys at Radio Shack next door to help. We are still fussing when he arrives. Oh I see your problem, the cord to the projector was in the output rather than the input. I curse under my breath. Of course, the one thing the Dream Institute was responsible for! I should have come by earlier in the week and tested this stuff. We see the computer screen and cheer. The man leave.

Wait! Oh no! We've been deceived! Just the laptop screen, no icons, no program access! The sand is flowing swiftly to the bottom of the hour-glass. People are being let in. Lot's of people. Crowding the room. Making it very hot. The Radio Shack person is sent for. He returns, does some magic and the DVD pops on to the screen. The film is going. We begin, 30 minutes late, no introduction, no prolog. Just jump on the moving train and go.

I am just starting to relax a little when someone starts banging at the front door which is now blocked by people in the audience. I go to let her in the back door. Why is she so late? In the meantime, the computer goes dead. I want to get hysterical but I can't. I have to be professional. Oh, the cord has been pulled. I reattach the plug, reboot the computer and restart the DVD. No sound. Ah, speaker wire came out. Reattach the speaker. I fuss with the start point and we are off again. I sit on the floor next to the equipment guarding the wires, barely breathing, trying to hold it all together by sheer force of will.

The movie is beautiful, transcendent, instructive. Appointment with the Wise Old Dog -- about a man, David Blum, with amazing dreams that provide him with guidance and reassurance while he is dying of cancer. He has made color drawing of his dreams, vivid, child-like, archetypal. They hang around his bedroom, looking over him, giving comfort. The vision they reveal of life and afterlife are profound and thought-provoking. My panic subsides as I slip into the dreamworld of this lovely movie.

The film ends. I get up and, in a voice more together than I feel, I ask the viewers to consider the meaning the movie has for them, how it relates to their own dreams in times of crises and to discuss it with the person next to them. The room fills with enthusiastic chatter as I gather myself together and put away the techno demons. I breathe deep and slow, trying to regain my presence.

Even though the technological issues are over, my waking dream is not. When I call the group together, no one wants to talk. It is like pulling teeth. A stand-up comic's nightmare. No one laughs, no one gives an inch. A few kind souls share their stories and I am pathetically grateful. How can that be? This is such interesting stuff. I can't hold the space, I can't bring them together. I answer questions and do a lot of talking. The evening grinds to an end.

The next morning, I get it. At first, of course, I am devastated. What a bomb! I really blew, etc. The usual negative-self litany. Then it dawns on me, this was a DREAM, a waking dream. Just like I had talked about in the group the night before. I had told the people that if they treated events in their life like dreams they might discover some interesting messages. Somehow I failed to notice at the time that I was in my own waking dream.

When the unconscious wants to get your attention it sends you a nightmare, several if you refuse to pay attention. This was my nightmare.

Ok, so what was the message?

LIFE IS A DREAM!  Row row row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream! 

Meaning? Treat life as a dream. Don't take it so personally. Don't get too caught up. Wake up to the unreality, the lunacy, the humor, the absurdity. And don't forget to pay attention.

If only I had understood that at the presentation. If only I had said, "We are in this nightmare together. We can go on like this, struggling, pushing, resisting, or we can become lucid (the term used when you realize you are dreaming) and say, Ahhh. We can make of this moment, this dream what we want."  I think this group might have been receptive to the idea. In fact, I think this approach is applicable with any group, at any presentation. Invite everyone to be involved, to take responsibility for the outcome. This is your dream too.  Let's build it together.

Now take that idea to the bigger world -- to global crisis, the 99% and the next election. Sweet dreaming!