I Scare Myself
The title of this blog alludes to the song by the same title from Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks. You will find mention of that farther down in this reposted blog. I reposted this up front on the Declare page because it is a sharing of some of the inner work I have done while being intertwined here. The post was in reply to Barbara's generous reply to my bad mood post of Saturday morning, in the Tending the Corn blog. I felt anger. Imagine that.
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Fragmentation?
Submitted by Ken Ebert on June 29, 2009 - 9:10am.
I really appreciate your lengthy response here, Barbara. I'm still not sure what is bothering me about SIA, but I am certain that it can't be roped in definitively. Yes, I was triggered by your posts, partly, but through email correspondence I find that it is deeper issues with me, not anything personal with anybody who posts here regularly.
Part of it has been coming since I attended the consciousness conference in March. I have an inborn love for observing how people do things, and that is hard for me to distinguish clearly from the content of what they are trying to communicate. That came up front and center for me at the conference: the duality of the what I call the "show biz" aspect of the consciousness movement, set alongside the actual ideas that are being communicated. That is what I have been referring to when I write of Eric Pearl - because he is a good example.
In his workshop at the conference he very clearly and adeptly demonstrated, beyond reasonable doubt (I consider losing all doubt to be a death blow to my awareness), the validity and powerful nature of his healing modality. Yet at the same time he had numerous people walk out of the workshop because of his manner of speaking. I went to the book signing afterwards, to get a copy of his book and to shake his hand. As I stood in line an incident happened that seemed out of synch with the high vibes of the conference. A few minutes later, as I shook his hand, I noticed his eyes were physically vibrating at high speed, and concurrently I got an intuitive flash to pay attention to the encounter. Now, in reading his book, I find that the same tone that chased a few people from his workshop is an integral part of his packaging and sales pitch. It has taken me a long time to read the book because I find his attitude to be caustic beyond my own comfort level. And, Goddess knows I have surgical grade sarcasm in my tool kit!!! ;-)
This brings me to a couple of things, one of which I snipped from Eric's book. I'm not dissing Eric, nor trying to dissuade anyone from looking into his valid modality. He wrote about choosing love over fear in the approach to healing - not an uncommon sentiment in the consciousness movement. But something that Elena Avila said in her teleseminar really hit home with me, when she referred to a woman who's "duality had become polarized".
I know that I am not alone in the feeling of having to step lightly on this forum because of the prevalence of some worldviews. What seems to be a polarity in me was best stated by physicist Richard Feynman: "What do you care what other people think".
You are correct, Barbara, in saying (via email) that the quality of my shared writing in SIA has been diminished by my trying to adapt to the dynamics of social interaction here. I looked back to some of my earlier blogs and and got a reaction like "Holy shit! It's like someone slipped some lexical valium into my ink pot!". But, of course, no one did that to me. I censor myself. The 40-weight viscosity of the love and optimism crowd can act as a lubricant or it can seriously slow down a freestyle swimmer. And since I am not a big proponent of the "law of attraction" or the "we create our own reality" ideologies I am pretty much relegated to be the prime coach in deciding how to swim through these waters.
As MaAnna mentioned recently, stepping aside as the spirit flows through during music composition is a wondrous experience. That is also when I write most clearly. Then I am reminded of one of the powerful admonitions that Terence McKenna received from the elfclowns of hyperspace: "don't be astonished. Relax and do what we do!".
It's analogical to the presentation from Eric Pearl as well. I've become casual friends with his former assistant, who has reminded me that getting the ego out of the way is the prime directive of healing. But, dag nab it, I just cannot agree with that! I can't! I won't! (stamps feet and pouts like a six year old). It's part and parcel of something else that Elena Avila said: that we are Nature. We are not from it, or in it. We are it.
So, to get back to the point, iffin' there was a point ;-) - Pearl pokes fun at some of the ritual finery that we attach to consciousness studies and application. His doing so reminded me that I do that too, in the privacy of my own mind. Think about it - how can a living breathing critter sever it's connection with the Divine? Now, don't anyone start in with the "illusion" schtick! Compared to what?
In writing this rather lengthy tome I gradually realized that I am going to do with it what Glenn and Bob have done at times - post it here, then put it up front, on the Declare front page, at the top of the list. I'm thinking of some of the luminaries in my own life. I'm feeling an odd, playful trepidation at the little military trainer jet from the National Guard that is practicing 'touch and go' landings at the airport, which brings him or her over this house a time or two. I'm seriously wondering what synchronistic appearance will grace my world today at work.
I, I, I, I.
Looks like musical notation, don't it? A rhythm track, maybe? We went to the KTAO Solar Center last night to see Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks in concert. By far, the song that got the crowd most excited was "I Scare Myself". The performance was impeccable. Dan even alluded to Michael Jackson a couple of times. Which reminded me that Michael's personal troubles and tribulations are indeed as important to me as his immense talent. The two are inseparable.
I forgot to say that my trepidation at the little trainer jet was a fear that the danged thing might crash through the roof of the house. How daft is that?!?! Then I remember that when the van came through my living room wall, I was solid deep into a loving angelic contemplation. As if, huh?!
I finish this long indulgent post with some lyrics from my man, Rodney Crowell:
"Life is messy
I feel like Elvis Presley
At a very early age
They put you in a cage
and push you out on stage
Life is messy"
Aho! ~ Ken
