Tasty Tidbit #1: Client Participation
This last weekend was the Galactic Expo in Nashville. I look forward to this event every year, all year long. It is a full weekend of playing in the metaphysical playground. There are readers, all natural products, crystals, candles, and healers. Typically, I don’t get energy work done at the expo, for a couple of reasons. One, it’s loud. Two, I don’t want an audience to my energy work. Three, I am particular about who I allow to work on me; after all they are working with my energy. After a great reading, the woman that was reading me suggested that I get some energy work from the woman working in the booth next to her. The reader said that she had watched her work that day and the energy worker seemed very good. Being the good little spiritual worker that I am I took her up on her suggestion. I went to the woman; let’s call her Rose, who explained to me what she would do during the session. I heard her say she worked with crystals, and she had some sprays for the chakras that she made, but I never heard her say anything about sound therapy.
I got on the table, lying in the open for anyone who walked by to see, and she said a prayer. She then said she was ready to begin. My eyes were closed and I was doing my best to relax, when I was frightened out of my body, literally! All of a sudden there was this WWHOOP!! noise to the right of me. I shot out of my body in the exact opposite direction of Rose, running for the spiritual hills. Scared out of my body, I immediately called on my spiritual team to protect me from this insane woman. I just kept thinking what have I got myself into, but the worst was yet to come. She started making toning noises, for one of them she asked me if I could make the noise, and I said sure. After a few seconds of me not making the noise, I didn’t realize I was supposed to, she said, make the noise! What else was I going to do? I made the noise. I feel that I am pretty tone deaf so I was afraid of what tone was coming out of my mouth and how many people walking by could hear it. For each chakra she had an affirmation. Of this horrifying experience I can only remember two. The first was the solar plexus. She started making a higher pitched WWHHOOOOP noise (I kept envisioning a pterodactyl coming at me, I kept my eyes shut as tight as possible), and then she said “I live my life.” I guess I’m a slow learner. I didn’t say anything, so she says, “I LIVE MY LIFE! SAY IT OUT LOUD! AFFIRM IT OUT LOUD!” So, here I am in the middle of the expo, affirming I LIVE MY LIFE, so everyone can hear. The other chakra that I could remember affirming was the sacral, for those of you who know your chakra’s you may already have an idea of what’s coming. She gave me the affirmation, and again I was slow in responding, but after a couple say it out loud’s I was catching on. So, I said the affirmation for the whole expo to hear, “I PLEASURE MYSELF!”
It was a great expo!
Tasty Tidbit #2: Learn to Receive or Lose it in the Washer
I have a hard time receiving money. I don’t mind if I get money for my birthday or some other holiday, but I don’t like taking money even when it’s owed to me. For instance if I go out to pick up lunch for everyone, I never expect for people to pay me back. They literally have to hide it in my purse, or shove it in my pocket, or down my throat for me to take it. After the expo, Teresa gave me forty dollars for driving both days and for the lunch that I had just brought back. I was my usual stubborn self and refused to take it at first. She was insistent and stuck the money in the pocket of my hoodie. I never put money there, so it’s not overly surprising that I forgot the money was in that pocket. Several days later I was in the shower when it hit me that Teresa had put the money in my hoodie, and I had put my hoodie in the laundry. The same laundry my husband had just brought back from the laundry mat. I asked him if he had found any money when he was doing laundry. He said that he had seen a bill flying around the dryer and was going to grab it when the clothes were dry. When the dryer was done he shook all the clothes out but there was no money to be found. His guess was that it had been sucked into the big commercial dryer vents. I could have kicked my own ass. If I had just accepted the money graciously, and put it in my purse I wouldn’t have flushed forty dollars down the toilet, or in this case, lost it to a dryer. Lesson learned.
I almost lost this blog. I sometimes write my blogs when I go to the laundry mat. As explained in the above Tidbit, my husband went this time for me as I had a busy week and he had the day off. This means that the big yellow pad that I write my laundry mat musings on (that sounds like the fun name of a story or something, maybe I’ll name a book of poetry that title), was moved from its place in the laundry basket to an unknown location. To add to the situation, I have been rearranging my meditation/writing room, so I had no clue where I could have put it. I figured I could either tear the house apart room by room starting with my room, or I could write the blog from memory. Thankfully I didn’t have to do either as the notepad was kind enough to place itself upside down underneath my printer table on the floor. I have no idea how it got there, I’m just glad it was there. I guess I could use some Gingko supplements as well.
Lately, meaning the past couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking about going to church. It’s not that I feel a religious need or anything like that. Any church that I would attend would probably have to be non-denominational, not to mention open minded. I don’t think I am looking for religion, but instead I am looking for spiritual fellowship. Though I work at a shop where I get more than the average persons helping of spiritual talk, I still feel a longing for an even deeper connection. At first the thought of going to church was troubling to me. Like many people who are raised in religion and turn to a more spiritual path I was raised in hell fire and damnation. My family didn’t go to church for church, we went to church because we were expected to go to church. I remember I loved the music in church. I loved to sing even though I wasn’t very good at it.
I loved the singing, but I was never a big fan of the sermon. Number one, they were long. I wasn’t a big fan of sitting still for long stretches. Two, the sermons were terrifying for the most part. Lectures on hell, the devil, and how God was always watching me. He was like a mean Santa Clause. He knew everything I did, and trust me I was on the naughty list, which of course meant that I was going to burn for eternity. I would listen to those sermons and the visions of hell were quite clear to me. I had and have a very vivid imagination. If I messed up I’d be a servant to Satan for eternity. At age ten, eternity was about my parent’s age, I couldn’t imagine being older than them. I laugh now because today I’m the same age my parents were then.
To me, God was the bully of the universe. You better do what God said, give him your lunch money or else, and you didn’t want the or else part. I wasn’t convinced that heaven was a nice place. I didn’t see how it could be so wonderful with such a nasty landlord. I figured my chances of getting into heaven were slim to none. I might have been ten, but I knew I had already made too many mistakes to be forgiven. I could see myself, covered in chains like the Marley brothers, dragging myself across the lava pits of hell, my skin burnt and blistered, spending an eternity begging God for forgiveness. Like I said vivid imagination. I was thirteen when my family stopped going to church. We might have gone to a Christmas service or two, but the every Sunday routine stopped. By the time that happened I had already stopped believing the bullcrap, and was well on my way to forging my own spiritual beliefs.
This new found need/desire to attend church caught me off guard. I felt it necessary to give the inclination a thorough examination. To be honest, I was concerned that living in the Bible Belt had finally gotten to me. That was nonsense of course. When I dug around, over and through the issue, I found it curious that I was seeking fellowship. I was looking for a connection with a group. Though I do get a lot of spiritual fruits from the shop it’s not quite enough to keep up with the hunger, I need a supplement. Something to add to my spiritual experience. I have no desire to go to church to be told how to worship or that I need Jesus or that God is waiting for me to screw up. I do want to go to church for the community of spirituality. My perception of God has changed greatly since I was a child. God went from a hateful being, to a being of energetic balance and unconditional love. It shouldn’t be surprising to me then if my attitude and understanding of church has changed as well. Though I haven’t found an answer to the question whether I will or will not go to church, (I probably will give it at least one try), I am glad that the issue came up. It showed me that just because you are on the spiritual road does not mean that you ever stop seeking the company and companionship of like minded people. After all a road walked with friends is easier to walk, than the road walked alone.