Dude, Where's My Energy?

Are you exhausted, stressed, tethered to technology as if you're part Borg? Welcome to the club.

The energy crisis in our outer environment reflects our inner depletion: we scan news about climate change on our smartphones, sipping a pumpkin spice latte made with coffee beans from a rapidly vanishing rainforest, while stuck in traffic behind the wheel of an SUV.

But it's unfair to tar everyone with the same brush (to use a macadam metaphor). Half of today's Millennials don't even bother to get their driver's license by age 18 — and many don't want to get behind the wheel at all! Social media has replaced the car culture of yesteryear.

Yet the car-detached may be exchanging one energetic fuel for another. Cars and cell phones each have the power to hold us in thrall... READ MORE

Have Body, Will Travel

On the freeway one day, an engaging tour bus slogan snagged my attention at 65 mph: "The Art of Transportation." I maneuvered closer to read the company name and logo: "Van Go," with the image of a paintbrush daubing the "o". What a playful, memorable way to advertise bus travel! Since I've written about how to see yourself as an artist, this tickled me. As usual, it also got me thinking:

What is your vehicle of transport? Will it get you where you most need to go? And are you driving/piloting/captaining your vessel, or are you a passive passenger?

While in the throes of my awakening odyssey, I often had dreams of riding in the passenger seat of a car. It's enlightening, then, to note who (or what) is "driving you." The symbolic language of dreams can often be both revealing and humorous. A friend who taught speed-reading once dreamed of driving in a car that had no brakes — but he found he could stop it with his mind!

And I dreamed of being in a car with others as we skimmed across a shimmering sea. It felt glorious, yet even in the dream, my questioning mind wanted to know how it was possible for a car to glide effortlessly over water. The answer that came to me, not from my fellow passengers but from Existence itself, was, "If you believe there is a bridge, there is."

Here on Earth, our bodies are our primary means of transport, our third-dimensional "space suits". What shape is yours in? Will it serve you well as your bridge to quantum being-ness? It's harder to house the infinite in a neglected vessel.

Perhaps some cosmic re-coloration with the planetary paintbrush is in order. We might begin on the physical plane, and then add a little airbrushing of our mental, emotional, spiritual and causal bodies. Another dream image of mine involved walking into a doctor's waiting room and picking up a magazine entitled, "Woman, Clean the Mind."

Tossing out excess baggage from all of our bodies will make it that much easier to travel light, and travel into the Light.

Help! I Need Somebody …

Have we entered the "We Decade"? People are becoming more friendly and helpful than ever — and as always, what we give returns in spades (or hearts). Here's what it looks like:

A week or so ago, a shopper at Whole Foods pulled out an extra shopping cart for me as she got her own, and, delighted with the simple, unsolicited act of kindness, I declared this the year when we all receive what we need effortlessly and with grace!

A day or so later, a young mother with two small kids needed dinner plates; she couldn't leave the eating area to get them, so I went over to the hot bar for her, and she was inordinately grateful.

Yesterday, I parked my elderly car (that has a broken driver's side door handle for which I'm seeking a replacement part!), too close to a high curb, and when I went to open the passenger door to crawl through and unlatch the driver's door, as I've been doing the past few days, I couldn't open it wide enough to get in!

I stood there wondering what to do when a kind man walked by and I motioned to my plight. Without missing a beat he angled his arm in enough to roll down the back window on the passenger side, then crawled through the window to open the driver's door! I was amazed — and amazingly grateful.

These are all seemingly small acts, but aggregated times seven billion, they can add up to a far happier planet.

Let's choose to be helpful — and happy! Blessed Be.

If It's Broke, Should You Fix It?

We're all familiar with the adage, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!" But what about when it IS broken ~ is "fixing" necessarily the best strategy?

In the last month, my eyeglasses, car door handle and wristwatch band have all "broken." I was cleaning my glasses when the micro-thin bridge quietly snapped in two. My old Toyota's door handle mechanism, which had been progressively weakening for weeks, finally quit working altogether. And my beaded watchband's elastic cord broke.

From a 3D perspective, we could view these incidents as discrete (unrelated) events that occurred because the objects in question simply wore out. And this interpretation would be accurate, although limited. Since I tend to live on levels other than the literal, I laid in bed one night and wondered what message, if any, all these "breaks" happening at year-end 2010 might be trying to communicate.

Eyeglasses help me see, but have nothing to do with inner vision. My car transports me from Point A to Point B on the physical plane, but can't help me travel metaphysically. And my watch enables me to "tell time" in our linear, third-dimensional reality, but will not assist me in accessing the timeless realm of Now.

The sense I have, especially after participating in an alchemical conversation between Jim Self and Celia Fenn on Winter Solstice, is that these breaks actually signify a breakthrough: in the incipient New Earth, we'll see with our inner eyes, travel at the speed of thought, and live in the eternal present.

It was a humbling and humorous awareness. I've always enjoyed these "object lessons" ~ especially from my car, which has long served as a surrogate "body" of sorts (if you spend considerable time in your own vehicle, I expect you know what I mean.)

Of course, since I am still traveling in 3D, I'm in the process of seeking a replacement part so that I can open my car door; the watch is out being restrung, and I'm going to invest in a new pair of eyewear so I can continue to journey safely while in a body.

With a foot in both worlds, this is one of the most challenging and exhilarating times to be alive. You can read more in my January newsletter, Some Assembly Required, which will be live on 1/2/11.

Blessings and joy to you!

Is Your Battery Corroded?

Last evening I stopped to put gas into my trusty Toyota, which is now old enough to graduate from high school. When I turned the key afterwards: nada, zip, no reaction. I popped the hood, and sure enough, the battery (barely a toddler) was laced with corrosion.

What ensued is comical this morning, not so much last night. The first AAA driver I called gave me a jumpstart, but said he was a tow truck and therefore had no tools to clean the battery. He sent me sputtering down the road to a nearby Kragen's Auto Supply. The Kragen employee helpfully cleaned the battery terminals while the battery was recharging in the store. We then asked another customer if he'd please help me with a second jumpstart, and, although at first nothing happened (tension!) at last the car sprang to life.

I thanked both Samaritans profusely, backed up, and — it died completely.

This time when I called Triple A, I did request a tow truck. When Dave arrived, he asked what the problem was, and I recounted the evening's events. But instead of hooking me up for a tow, as I expected, he asked me to pop the hood again, and expertly found quite a lot of additional corrosion under two of the bolts, that the Kragen's employee had missed in the dark. After this, the car started up just fine, and I drove home.

Since my car has often symbolized my body and/or my life, I immediately began to identify areas where my "battery" (life force energy) might be corroded. Even when we think we're in great shape, having done a lot of work on ourselves and transmuted dross to light, there can still be a bit of corrosion hiding in the corners of our mind, sapping our power, creating "terminal illness" on many levels. Our battery isn't dead; it just can't fire because of the insidious slime gnawing through our façade, encroaching on the cables to make a clear connection impossible.

The solution, with cars, with our bodies, and with Life in general, is to alkalize: get the acid waste (rage, frustration, disgust, hatred, fear, despair …) out of your system through the powers of love, appreciation, enthusiasm, self-worth, service, joy … and your battery will continue to serve you faithfully for many years to come.