I wish I may I wish I might...

Warrior Pose II
neither pulled towards the future
nor weighted down by the past
equilibrium is found in the present moment

I haven't blogged for a while. Mom's death has severed the living ties to my parents (Dad died in 2002) and life has, for the time being, become a bit of an introverted journey of self-exploration. Who am I now? Who do I want to become? What do I want to do with my life? What and who do I love? How do I want to live my life now? Robert Moss contends that if you don't define yourself others will do it for you. What definitions have I embraced? Do they still apply? Did they ever? Sounds pretty heavy but really, it's liberating and has led to clutter clearing on all levels: physically, mentally, emotionally, psychically and spiritually.

More of that later, what prompts this blog is an e-mail I received recently from a client who hasn't been successful in getting rid of excess weight despite having attended a series of 6 one-on-one sessions for a weight management a few years back.

Here's the gist of it:
Why can't hypnosis for weight loss be done in a 1 shot session like I do for smoking cessation? Why can't I just implant a negative association to help someone abstain from "forbidden" foods and be done with it? It worked for a friend of mine and she lost X number of pounds and she's still kept it off. When she feels tempted she just goes back for a little top up. I think stress management would be helpful, but only if it's done in one session not if it's based on self-hypnosis as that doesn't work for me.

A few things jump out at me:

• unlike smoking, one needs to eat and faces temptation a few times every day
• smoking is a non-essential activity that is always detrimental to one's health
• what new "forbiddens" will take the place of the old ones
• hypnosis does strengthen resolve and makes things easier, and ACTION is a part of the process, action needs to be taken to re-inforce the suggestion and set up a positive feedback loop
• over time weight balancing becomes second nature and a lifestyle choice
• stress accumulates unless we address it every day, it's not the stressor that's our problem, it's our attitude towards it

I battled with anorexia in my teens. If anyone should know about aversion to food and how to induce it, it should be me. The truth is, people experiencing anorexia are consumed by food 24/7 to the exclusion of everything else - there is no joy in the life of an anorexic, only the constant companions of fear of failure and self-loathing.

I lost 30 lbs by eating the bare minimum to survive and, when I came to my senses I gained most of it back. I have maintained a healthy weight for 40 years through conscious eating and a commitment to health and living consciously.

There is no magic pill to make our demons all go away. One must commit to a daily process of: self-awareness and self-honesty; discovering one's self inside-out; taking ownership of the body we inhabit and taking responsibility for our actions - no excuses allowed. We must learn to ride the emotional roller coaster of life without resorting to food for comfort or punishment and choose to eat consciously. It takes nothing less than healing our relationship with ourselves and with food to arrive at the weight that is right for "me".

The pain my client was feeling leaked between the lines she'd written. She just wants one shot, no self-hypnosis. Self-hypnosis doesn't work for her. Yet she is an intelligent, accomplished professional. How did she get through the years of training, focus and determination it took to get where she is today? All hypnosis is essentially self-hypnosis and is re-inforced by the messages we tell ourselves every day. Our self-talk either propels us in the right direction or leads to self-sabatogue. As a former anorexic I know that our mind can be a battleground where our inner cheerleader and our inner critic wage a war for dominance over our thoughts and emotions. Which do you support with your attention? The one that receives the most attention grows the strongest.

Anything we accomplish begins with a spark of inspiration and a dreaming of what could be. When it comes to weight issues we imagine how wonderful our lives will be, how successful and desirable we will become when we have lost the weight. All our problems will vanish in an instant. I wish this were true. Fact is, we need to find the wonderful life that is available to us now as we make our journey through weight loss (or anything else); we need to engage in life, take risks, experience failure and success. We need to fall down, get up and reset our course again and again if necessary.

I've been impressed by the Canadian Series X-WEIGHTED for it's inspiring and eye-opening stories centring around young people and their families learning to live healthier lives while losing weight. I encourage anyone dealing with weight issues to check it out, especially if you are concerned about passing these issues on to your children. If you are making poor food choices for yourself you are making poor ones for your kids too. Your actions set the example for your children to follow - what are they learning from you?

To find out more about my struggle with anorexia and how yoga transformed my life check out STORIES FROM THE YOGIC HEART available at many yoga centres, book stores, AKASHA'S DEN in Oakville, Ontario and coming soon to a ROOTS store near you!

OUR DESIRE (to commit to our goal) NEEDS TO BE STRONGER THAN OUR RESISTANCE.

So, here's the first step regarding forbidden foods:

DON'T BUY THEM OR HAVE THEM IN THE HOUSE; NOT FOR YOURSELF AND ESPECIALLY NOT FOR YOUR KIDS.

Secondly, ask yourself, in your moments of temptation:

WHO IS IN CHARGE OF YOUR LIFE?

Looking for a sign

I visited Mom's nursing home on Wednesday to donate some CD's and a DVD from Moms stash for their music and entertainment programs; just one of the many tasks I've elected to do on Mom's behalf and bring closure for myself.

Running into old acquaintances who live, work and volunteer at the nursing home caused us to reminisce about Mom, her passing, the memorial/celebration of her life that the family hosted there a few weeks ago and death in general. I found quite quickly that one can't visit such a place after such a majour event without people opening up and sharing their own stories of love and loss.

It seems that, regardless of religious or spiritual orientation, surviving relatives are looking for signs from the departed that they are OK in their new realm of existence. The living also want to be reassured that those that have "passed" are now watching over, and perhaps, guiding them.

One woman, heavily grieving the loss of her father (who died in December) said she just wants to be able to move on but can't seem to do so. Despite not being ready to "go" there was nothing that could be done for him and this added to the pain and suffering he and his family experienced during the last few months of his life.  I asked what would make it possible for her to move on. She said she didn't know but felt that, "If I could only have a sign that he's OK. I think that would help." And though she said, in an off hand manner, "I did get a sign the next day" and proceeded to describe the incident, the radiance in her face indicated that this was a real, not a manufactured, experience but for some reason it just hadn't registered consciously with her yet.

She proceeded to tell me that, a few weeks later, during an especially difficult time, her father came to her in a dream and said, somewhat irritated, "Why do you keep calling on me? Don't you know that I'm dead?" This made her feel even worse until I reminded her, as she'd just told me, she'd already received the sign she was looking for. I proceeded to say that, if it were my dream, I'd try and see it from his point of view. When I took his vantage point I realized that I'd be wondering how many times and in how many ways would she need to be reassured that I'm OK? I'm dead and there are things I have to do here but trust that when you really need me I'll be there.

Some spiritual traditions believe that, not until the living have released the dead are those that have passed, free to move on in their journey; move on, they and we must. Our grief, sense of guilt, loss of direction keep them bound to us and between realms, neither here nor there (some spiritual traditions believe that there are many aspects to a human soul, that one aspect of the soul remains while other aspects are intended to move on). Our clinging to them keeps us from becoming fully present to and engaged in life, saps our energy and leads to depression.

Through past life regression and interlife experiences I have realized that when we die we reintegrate into the fullness, wisdom and love that we were before incarnating. In an instant, all suffering is over. But an aspect of our individual souls continue to reside in the hearts of the living and continue through the DNA of future generations.

Another woman said she was waiting for a sign from 2 relatives on her birthday but none was forthcoming. I wonder if, in looking for one specific sign, we might miss those magical, synchronic moments that happen almost daily reminding us of our interconnectedness.

Surprisingly, all this reminiscing found me, not sorrowful for the past, but anxious about the future. With Mom's death, (Dad having passed in 2002) the ties of my family of origin are broken. Released from the expectations that have defined us all our lives, our lives are, for the first time in our lives, truly our own. And, released from my duties towards my parents, I'm asking myself - who am I now, what do I really want and what do I do with this new chapter in my life.

Later that night a message from the pastor came through my answering machine. I had been thinking about him for days, wanting to let him know, personally, what a wonderful service he'd done for Mom and our family so I picked up the phone. He'd somehow gotten one digit wrong in my brother's phone number and was calling for the right one. He went on to say that he was sure I was missing Mom, that my family had done a good job honouring her at the memorial and that he was sure that she was pleased.

Signs are present everywhere when we embrace life.

healing water

I have little rituals, picked up though healing circles and shamanic gatherings, that I do each day to benefit the earth and water; it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like I'm connected to nature and stuff.

I have 2 jars both with the words, HEALING, LOVE, GRATITUDE written on the outside. The small one I fill daily from the tap. The next morning I pour all but a little bit of this water into the larger jar. The jars are in an altar space in my treatment room that is smudged daily. For over 20 years this has been a place of healing, where soothing music, chants and drumming have filled the air; during the winter months it is where I do my yoga practice in the warmth of the heater's glow while cold winds blow outside.

When the large bottle is filled I take it to the lake and pour the water back from where it came saying, "We are sorry for any suffering that we have caused you. We love you and are grateful." I learned this during a healing circle held in the aftermath of the tragic earthquake, tsunami and damage to the nuclear reactors that sent tons of radiated water back into the ocean. It is a small, but I think, important gesture for me to make.

Masuru Emoto has studied the effects of thoughts on water finding that words such as HEALING, LOVE and GRATITUDE can create the most beautiful, intricate crystals of water whereas negative words create distorted, unharmonious structures.

Since Mom died I've been immersed in the past and most especially last week as I helped my family prepare for a memorial service in her honour last Friday night.

My brother and I sorted through albums and boxes of family photos, scanned them into the computer and sent them back and forth to each other, so that he could make a slide show out of our "finds". With the assistance of one of Mom's sisters we were able to dig further into our past than I'd ever gone before. I stared deeply into the faces of many people I'd never, or rarely, met who peered back at me with an air of  familiarity.

Other photos brought back happy times spent with family and friends. Time periods jumbled together. One moment we THACKERLINGS were young exhuberant children, then young adults and teens playing in the snow, babes in the arms of our Mom, forty somethings crowded on my brother's couch, children again. Back and forth; memories spilled into my consciousness.

Mom loved music. Night and day I was immersed in the music of the 30's, 40's and 50's trying to select those pieces that touched an emotional cord within me, releasing memories which would confirm, yes that one, she'd love that one!

All this memory lane stuff had me out of step with time; lost in a fog of remembrance.

My dreams were filled with stories of being late for events. I'd wake up feeling that I was running behind. It was all I could do to drag myself out of bed and most days I'd wait til the latest possible moment making my dreams a reality. I couldn't catch up with life.

One such morning I was to meet with the pastor and my brother so that we could go over the memorial and give him some details about Mom's life and her personality. Already running late, I grabbed my full bottle of "blessed, healed" water as I ran out of the house, jumped into the car and sped off with it tucked neatly by my side. Meeting literal roadblocks and detour after detour, though the nursing home is only blocks away, my frustration exploded into a stream of expletives that would "turn the air blue" as my Dad would say. 

And it felt... sooo good... so relieving... that I let 'er rip, just like the scene of King GeorgeVI in THE KING'S SPEECH!

Then I remembered the poor water in the jar nestled beside me. I could see its crystals breaking apart, becoming blackened and distorted. 

I know that we are composed of over 90% water. The theory behind Emoto's experiments is that if water can be effected by thoughts and words then so can we. I swear that the swearing really, really helped me release a lot of tension. But what about the poor water? 

 I'd have to make it up to it. 

So after the meeting, back home and on my altar the jar went. I deluged it with chants, bringing in the big gun himself, the Dalai Lama, I drummed, treatment sessions were done, until I felt the water could feel the LOVE, HEALING and GRATITUDE directed its way, enough to be released back into the lake. I really don't know if this helped the water at all. All I know is that this too felt really, really good to me.

Ho'oponopono Mom

© NANCE THACKER 1990
CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

A NEW JOURNEY BECKONS

EDITH "EDIE" THACKER Sept 11, 1920 - June 5, 2011

In FATE AND DESTINY - the 2 agreements of the soul, Michael Meade writes of a Siberian tale of a cosmic, origin tree of life where human souls perch upon its "sky branches" waiting silently and watching like birds until something in the world below intrigues them enough to incarnate, descending and entering into "a womb where life is about to be born." (pg 122)

He then goes on to tell of an old West African story. As the soul begins to enter into earthly life it encounters a spirit (its divine companion) which accompanies the soul on its journey through the realm of incarnate beings and travels with the soul throughout its lifetime journey in the chosen body. The spirit "clarifies the image that first moved the soul and describes the terms through within which this particular life adventure will be shaped." (pg 123) This divine contract allows the soul and spirit to enter into the body and begin life on earth.

On the soul's journey towards the womb it finds itself standing before a radiant tree in the middle of a garden. The soul is instinctively compelled to touch the bark of the magnificent tree. As I understand it, this touch deeply buries the divine companion within the soul and the soul forgets what drew it to incarnate and just what it came into earthly life to accomplish for this Tree of Unity and of Life is also the Tree of Forgetfulness. This act is necessary for human life to begin.

As I dream this myth forward I imagine that as we come to the end of this incarnation our souls find themselves standing once more before the majestic Tree of Life. Once more the soul is compelled to place its hands upon the bark of the trunk but, this time, upon contact the Tree of Unity transforms into the Tree of Remembrance. The bird soul returns to perch upon the sky branches viewing its families and loved ones in the earthly realm and getting glimpses into their celestial home and of the souls who await their return. There they remain engaged in both realms until they are released from contracts with their beloved ones on earth. Upon release, the cords that bind are severed. Only then are they free to fully turn their gaze upon the Tree of Origins where their divine companion waits in full glory to accompany them on their journey home into the oneness from which they came. The body is vacated and the soul's earthly life comes to an end.

To the soul that became my mother in this earthly life I wish you courage on the next stage of your journey. And, should your bird soul once more find itself perching on the sky branches, may it be dazzled by an auspicious re-birth filled with love, compassion and joy.


Information and quotes are from FATE AND DESTINY - the two agreements of the soul by Michael Meade, Greenfire Press, 2010.

Future dreams my life

I really do wonder if the dream in the last post is a dream of the future. It feels like one.

As a young child I yearned to be able to dive into water like the bigger kids, but something held me back and I'd chicken out at the last minute to the exasperation of my doting Dad. I watched and watched the others but couldn't "get it". Then one night, I dreamt the perfect dive. I felt it in my cells, muscles and bones and I just "knew" that, tomorrow I would do the perfect dive for real. And, to the complete astonishment of my father, I just dove; not a kid's fall into the water with body ramrod straight and arms stiffly held overhead that passed for a dive, but a real jump off the deck entry.

From a young age I had a facility at drawing and would spend hours sketching away at the kitchen table. Logically one would assume that sight was my strongest sense. But when people asked me how I knew how to draw I just said that I drew what I saw. But that wasn't exactly right. I know now that when I "know" the object in my cells, bones and muscles I can render it on paper. When I'm particularly inspired it virtually leaps onto the page.

When I began my study of yoga I saw myself in a dream walking along a driveway into a yoga-retreat centre in the mountains in North America. A decade later I "knew" that I was walking that same roadway one day as I returned from picking Queen Anne's Lace for a Rudolph Steiner garden potion that I would later be stirring in the pre-dawn hours and spreading over Yasodhara Ashram's garden as a temporary resident/gardener in the spring of '78.

Again that same knowing came over me when Swami Radha suggested I check out the animation program at Sheridan College, which happened to be in my home town, a place I was more than happy to leave a few years earlier and had no intention of returning to, except as a visitor. Despite my determination to stay on Vancouver Island, the island wasn't co-operating. Nothing I did met with any degree of success: my effort to make more than a subsistence living, my cartoon strip, my attempts to get to India to study yoga. All met with failure. A friend later said that islands spit you out once your purpose for being there has been served. It seemed so.

More than this, during those years on the island 2 recurring dream themes visited me. In one I was driving in a car, with my Dad in the passenger seat. We are chatting and enjoying our trip and then he dies, while I'm driving; not due to an accident — he just dies. In the other, a vague knowing that a friend introduces me to an accountant who I later marry. The latter dream, I found particularly absurd as all my life I'd said I'd never marry. Even my dreams supported me in this declaration as I'd never gotten married in my dreams. I've made preparations for my wedding, even walked down the aisle, but all would come to a skidding halt as I'd become panic stricken, break into a cold sweat and bolt or wake up knowing for certain that I was dreaming.

But, it seems that a part of me knew and perhaps so did Swami Radha, that my destiny and a new path was opening up for me, not at an ashram in India but back here in my home town.

And, within a week of my return in the spring of '86 I did meet the man I was to marry (yes, an accountant at the time but within the year he returned to his love of contracting) after an introduction by a childhood friend; a fellow member of the "council". Realizing that this looked like, but wasn't intended to be, a "fix up", she gave me the opportunity to refuse the invitation to dinner, but I passed, assuring her that I wasn't looking for a relationship. My sites were set on a career in animation that would lead to India. I felt certain that my dream was a mistake and by that time had buried it away in a corner of my being.

Then we met and I "knew" my life had changed. And Di and I both knew (as we'd always known), that we really were actually going to become sister-in-laws.

I accepted Rod's second proposal (not his first) only after receiving a close-up "hand in hand"dream image appearing against a sandy backdrop. It felt right in my cells, muscles and bones and I "knew" that he would be there for me and that there was no reason not to marry him.

My father died in 2002, not beside me in a car I was driving. I "knew" the message of this particular dream was not literal but was metaphorically telling me that I would be there for him. The efforts of my brother and myself (who shared POA duties) along with our siblings, enabled him to live at home. He died in the hospital after a, thankfully, short stay.

What future is dreaming my life now I wonder.

dreaming future

I woke up Wednesday morning without recalling a dream. But I noticed as lay there, rooting through what dream memories that could be stored away in the cells of my brain and body, that I felt exceptionally relaxed.  All my muscles felt like butter and my lungs seemed recharged by oxygen-rich, pure, mountain air. It was the kind of feeling one gets a few days into a vacation when you finally realize that nothing needs to be done; all effort to DO can be dropped and just BEING is the gift of the moment. Then there's the extra charge that comes when you realize that vacation's nowhere near being over, more vacation days lie ahead which ramps up your enjoyment ten-fold as you bask in this delight filled awareness!

I was able to sustain this sensation/experience for at least 15 minutes during which time, an image of a large wooden lodge-like centre came into focus. I was viewing it from a distance. The glow of the lodge's amber lights, warmed my soul on a clear, balmy, breezy summer's evening. The lodge overlooked a lake which beckoned me to dive into its waters...

So, this was not really a dream, but, an image captured from a felt sense that leaves me wondering. Did I dream the future?