This week on Systemic Effect, I will be interviewing Kristine Kaoverii Weber, yoga teacher and writer of the Subtle Yoga blog. So, the main topic on my blog this week will be yoga, and also health and wholeness.

I asked Sisalfish (my interviewee on Systemic Effect tomorrow) to share with me her thoughts on the language of the subconscious, and this is what she shared (below her comments, I share my insights as well):

“Well – to me, the subconscious is a great, uncovered, secret gift of
great power, that is really underused. Part of why it’s underused, I
think, is because its language is different.”

“It thinks a lot like a five year old, in terms of language (though
it is hugely mature and sophisticated in terms of metaphor). It
loves imagery. The senses. Color and sound. It loves repetition. It
loves what lives BEYOND the language itself – language is secondary
to that opening to metaphor, image, change and magic.”

“So, some of the language the subconscious responds to seems
counterintuitive. It likes dead end loops and snake hands, like: Try
to remember that dream you haven’t had yet. Or, do you feel your
feet on the path, moving, or are you flying, the air under your wings?”

“And working with hypnosis, one of the things I’ve found is that the
subconscious doesn’t mind sentimentality. Phrases in hypnotic things
I’ve heard others use really bug me. But then when I am the one being
hypnotized, and they use a phrase like “Can you feel the joy of
springtime in the song of the birds?” That seems a little self
obvious and overdone to me. But – the subconscious is much more
forgiving of what’s familiar and sentimental.”

“And much LESS forgiving if it’s something that it takes negatively,
because the whole point of trance is that ALL your filters are down.
No defense, if someone says the word “mother” or “father” and those
words bring up hurtful things, for you. But then, that’s the beauty
of the second voice. The subconscious will generally turn away from such negativity, in those moments, to the other voice, the safer voice.
But – the deeper subconscious still hears the scary voice, at some
deeper level, and – work gets done.”

Wow, huh? Sisal really has some amazing insights, and now I know this stuff too!

I have not studied trance language as deeply as Sisal has, but there are things I have observed as well. Things that speak to MY subconscious mind include:

Barely audible sounds, especially whispering kinds of sounds (as long as I can’t come close to picking out words). Wind through the trees.

Rhythm. I love rhythm. I think one of the ways that poetry can really touch me is if there is a regular or even an unusual rhythm. Also, a total lack of obvious rhythm is good too. I tranced out pretty heavily during childbirth by listening to really flowy music. Anything where the music flows, and even different layers fade in and out, gets me. I used to get stoned and listen to Pink Floyd and my mind would follow the currents of sound. Now, Pink Floyd has the same effect on me even without the drugs.

Movement. Repetitive movement, especially. Also, this helped in labor. I rocked back and forth on a yoga ball, back and forth, back and forth. Doing dishes can be meditative for some people for the same reason, and also because of the general repetition. I think well while I am sweeping or vacuuming. Some people can meditate or trance while they sew, weave or spin. Walking a labyrinth can be really meditative partly because of the going around and around, and in and out and in.

Visual repetition. I like looking at natural things for this reason, the fractals that are inherent in trees, for example.

Flickering Light. I can trance out to watching light flicker on cottonwood tree leaves. Any kind of flame. Light reflecting on or moving through water. Stars. In fact, I love scrying with any of these things.

Interesting thought I just had… I often feel a little deadened when I am in situations that are too man-made. I wonder if it isn’t partly because the environmental stimulus are less conducive to communicating with my subconscious mind? Like, electricity makes a constant hum that bugs me sometimes. It’s pretty constant, unlike the wind through trees which is an inconstant and ever-changing sound. Just a thought.

Anyway… I love finding ways to open to the wisdom of my subconscious mind. I have been working for years on developing the relationship between the different parts of my mind, and it’s good to remember, learn and think about what types of things work to communicate with all the parts of myself. : )

Motherhood is massively transformative, which is something I often fail to talk about much on this blog, partly because it’s so life-changing that I often lack the words to fully describe it.

It started with pregnancy. My heart opened up so big and wide that I had to stop watching the news, because it hurt so bad whenever I heard about any kind of violence. Yes, this intense emotional opening was created by hormones, but does that make it less real? I think the emotional effects of pregnancy and breastfeeding hormones are nature’s way of preparing a woman for motherhood.

I chose to deliver Joy naturally, and as a part of that, I had a spiritual vision, which I created a painting about later.

So, of course, being Joy is a little less than 2 years old, I certainly can’t say I know everything that can be transformative about being a parent, or even about being Joy’s mom. But, being her mom so far is transformative in a few ways:

1) Open-hearted connectedness. Loving someone this much opens my heart far more than I had ever before realized was possible.

2) Learning to be present in every moment. I’m still no Buddha, but learning to take care of a toddler all day every is a real lesson in awareness. The times when I’m being a good mom, I am focused and attentive on each moment as it happens, and that presence really opens me up to the beauty of life.

3) She brings up my issues. There’s something about being a parent that brings up a lot of heavy old issues. A lot of things from my childhood have come up, giving me the opportunity to deal with and heal them. This can be really difficult, but its a beautiful thing too, when I am able to be present enough to experience the feelings and let them go.

4) Watching the process of a person coming into life and learning how to live and be in the world is beautiful. It teaches me about the beauty of human potential at its greatest, and it teaches me about my own beauty and potential.

(copied from a message I sent to a friend)

I think that all misfits have trouble fitting in because they don’t behave by the same operating principles as everyone else. They don’t function in the same ways. I think this is a good thing, and I think it’s often a sign of someone who has great wisdom to share. Misfits who behave destructively, I personally think are people who would have had great wisdom to share, had they learned how to access it in healthy ways. These different operating principles, I think, actually help us to see where things work and don’t work in our culture, which makes it really hard for us to play along when things aren’t working.

I think that the discomfort that comes from this unique position is not something to be ignored or soothed away. I’d argue that instead it be used as a sign that there’s some work that you are uniquely suited for that your spirit is prompting you to do. Not out of anger or frustration at the way things don’t work, but out of love for humanity and how much you would like to see things actually work, for yourself and for all people.

Questions that might be worth asking yourself: What is your unique vision? What are the ways in particular that you feel misfitted? Is there a calling in there somewhere? At the very least, what about networking with other people who share your perspective? You may find that you are not alone, or that at least there are others who thirst for your perspective.

A lot of people feel discontented in different ways, and feel frustrated about the artificial and dysfunctional ways that many systems in our culture operate. I think these perspectives are so worth talking about, and maybe, together we can come up with and maybe eventually implement good ideas for re-writing the way that our cultural systems and structures operate!

I have heard a great quote lately. Let me know if you know who originally said it, because I have not been able to find the source:

“Blessed are those who are cracked; for it is they who let the light shine in”

Wow, huh? This so applies to the death theme this week! One thing Sisal talks about in our interview is how all her work ties together. She is a deathworker, trance facilitator and hypnotist. All these tie in together in that they are all related to different ways of knowing.

I wonder if the relationship between death and knowing isn’t this quote up above here. When things fall away, doesn’t that allow for the light of knowing to shine in? In physical death, I believe that our spirits merge with the all that is, at least for a time. In metaphorical death, I think we also have that same kind of access.

Trance is a great way to access different ways of knowing, and trance can be evoked either purposefully or not. Sisal and I talk about trance facilitation in ritual and rites of passage, but I also think it’s possible to trance out to any kind of music, during repetitive tasks, etc. For a few insights into this, I invite you to check out Milton Erickson on Wikipedia.

What do you think? What is the connection between death and knowing? In the metaphorical deaths in your life, when have you been able to open up to different forms of truth? How are you able to tap into deep wisdoms? Have you ever tranced? What are your experiences with trance or ritual? I invite you to comment here. : )

I fell in love with this poem in High School, and searched for years after that, because I remembered how much I loved it, but I couldn’t remember the first line, and wasn’t able to find it on google. One day, a few years ago, I came upon a book, “E.E. Cummings, Complete Poems 1904-1962)”, and looked at almost every page of the very large book before I found it. I love it so much still, I felt like I had come home. I invite you to check it out:

precisely as unbig a why as i’m
(almost too small for death’s because to find)
may, given perfect mercy, live a dream
larger than alive any star goes round

–a dream sans meaning (or whatever kills)
a giving who(no taking simply which)
a marvel every breathing creature feels
(but none can think)a learning under teach–

precisely as unbig as i’m a why
(almost too small for dying’s huge because)
given much mercy more than even the
mercy of perfect sunlight after days

of dark, will climb; will blossom: will sing(like
april’s own april and awake’s awake)

-ee cummings

I realized in a dream this morning that surrender is the answer when I am feeling torn apart by Death’s big unknown (ooh-I think I’m going to have to share my favorite ee cummings poem this week).

I am very much today in a place of struggling into the unknown. The first part of today, I struggled with it, but then once I had that dream, I relaxed bit into the dissolving.

It seems to me that there are often multiple levels of birth and death happening and overlapping. Any shift in state is both birth and death. When a plant pushes through the spring soil, it is experiencing birth, yes, but also death of it’s seed self. Right now, I am very much being birthed, and unneeded parts of me are falling away.

I think this ties back into the conversation from yesterday. I am personally more able to surrender into death’s unknown if I trust that which I do know…that life always follows death.

I invite you to think about a time in your life when everything was falling apart. That time might be a long time ago, somewhat recent, or even right now. It may have felt like everything you knew to be true, wasn’t true, and that time stopped or even kept marching on without you. It may have felt like nothing would ever be the same again, or okay again.

This is death. Death can bring up a whole range of feelings: sadness, anger, fear, or even relief and joy. Death occurs in our lives when things come to an end. Everything eventually dies: relationships, jobs, ways of thinking and being, perceptions, beliefs, and of course our physical bodies.

How do you feel about Death? Does it scare you or are you pretty comfortable already with the cycles of life, death, life? When something in your life ends, how do you usually react? Do you have rituals or ceremonies, ways of marking endings? How do you let go of that which no longer serves? Do you rest awhile before moving on? Do you give yourself space to grief and then re-open to new life?

I love ritual for its ability to help me mark significant moments and transitions in my life. That’s, incidently, why I used to like smoking so much. It marked the passing of time as well as the changes of the day (lunch break, getting off work, finishing class).

I think it is easy for me to feel lost during periods of Death, especially when everything I thought I knew crumbles away. The old reality shatters, and I am left, floundering to understand what to do next. Structures shift, and as the known falls away, the unknown looms murky and large. Ritual helps me to remember that even when I am facing a huge unknown, there are patterns always. Death always follows life, and life once again follows death. By tapping into my awareness of this ancient rhythm, I can find myself, still whole, and not so lost after all.

Next week, on Systemic Effect, I will be talking with Sisalfish: death worker, trance facilitator, and hypnotist. On the show, we will be talking about death and alternative ways of knowing. These will also be the blog topics for this week. Stay tuned!

I invite you to check out this blog (you will have to cut and paste):

http://theameetsgod.blogspot.com/

Thea is a woman who is searching for a spiritual path that suits her, by going to different churches, and then writing about her experiences and perceptions. It’s an interesting blog, and worth checking out.