updates from Monday

Yesterday was rough going until about noon. I was experiencing considerable shame and torment over the call with my sister the previous night, feeling terribly about how it seemed that my foul spirits had ruined her good mood. Upon sitting down to meditate I couldn’t even hold my concentration in the Dantien for more than a few seconds before my attention leapt back up to the Vishuddha / Ajna for a round of vicious abuse of myself or others. Using Inner Child exercises outlined by Gloria Steinem as well as strategies for dealing with Stuck-Energy as taught by Ana Forrest (in the Forrest Yoga teachers’ manual), I started consciously probing into the 2nd and 3rd chakras. Once I had gained a sense of what type of energetic being was inhabiting each zone (they differed from one another greatly, the one in the Manipura moving from a dark cloud to a curled-up child, the one in the Swadhisthana being nearly impossible to pin down beyond a sense that there was something there) I imagined moving loving energy down into the area from the Anahata while clearing out its smoggy bits using sharp exhales. Speaking out loud and directly into the 3rd chakra, on my sister’s suggestion I examined all the consequences of my tendency to self-sabotage, the hurt and pain and suffering it causes. Also, I acknowledged the various pieces of information stored in or coming from the Manipura while asking myself from whom I had learned to speak to myself primarily (and others secondarily) in such an angry, spiteful, and cruel way. Without ado the answer came: my father had spoken to me in said manner and I have been perpetuating his initial programming lo these nine years since he passed away. I then took the time to thank the element within the Manipura for doing what it thought was necessary while also letting it know that I will support it as it lets go of that learning and adopts new strategies for coping with life’s shifting demands. Immediately after this work I became very tired, physically and mentally. (This work took place at roughly 3 pm.) On the evening of the 19th I was able to meditate for a good fifteen minutes, my concentration hardly wavering from the region of the 2nd chakra. I decided to quit using my nicotine vaporizer with the first day of spring, mostly for health reasons but partly because I’m out of fluids and don’t want to spend money on buying more. On the morning of 20 Mar 2018, I had a succession of dreams during different periods of sleep. The first dream occurred in the period before my alarm went off at 444 am. I was in a tall, intact tower (built of glass and steel into at least seven sections), with a young person who at times wore the face of my nephew. Each section of the tower was essentially an open-air, glass-walled balcony hanging from a central torus. We were getting ready to move from the 3rd to the 2nd section of the tower via the elevator when I lost him in the crowd of people. Once on the elevator I was desperate to get down to the 2nd section, hoping I’d find him there, but a woman was using her left foot to block the door. I would lean down to hammer at the ‘close door‘ button, and each time I stood back up again, less of her was in the car until she was finally outside fully and the car was heading downward. A part of me knew she was waiting for a handicapable person who needed time to get to the lift but another part of me was frantic to find the young person I’d misplaced somewhere. Then, suddenly, I was on a grassy hill a half-kilometer from the building glassing it with binox, talking with an unseen figure sitting to my left rear about where the young person could be as I swept the building looking for his face.
The second dream occurred after I had been up for a half hour drinking green tea and getting ready to meditate. I was listening for information from the 3rd and 2nd about what to do when I got this clear message: We need rest; go back to sleep. Soon after laying back down I was dreaming of flying over a volcanic landscape in a makeshift winged bus with several other people. I was sitting in the way back watching the scarred landscape pass by below us, a great field of circular eruption-sites made up of hardened black lava. We were coming in for a landing on the main road of a small country town sitting atop a steep hill. On the road in front of us was horse-drawn cart that was trying desperately to get out of our way. The driver of the bus was yelling and cursing, at the horse-cart, which made clear just in time. Out makeshift airplane touched down barely a couple of hundred feet before the end of the road and a line of tall trees. At the last moment the pilot steered the plane to the right and brought us to a halt, which prompted me to applaud. The rest of the people in the airplane applauded with me but some of them asked why I had started at all, and I explained that his last-minute turn to the right had saved us. The others were not impressed.