Contemplation & A Punch to the Gut

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While visiting friends of mine for a holiday, my boyfriend suddenly bent me over the huge arm of the leather sofa and started spanking me.  It felt like a joke of being a bad kid at Christmas time.  I was hollering for him to let me up. My friends in the kitchen glanced our way but sensed no danger, they told me later.

I had received enough whooping’s, as Mom called them, in this lifetime. I didn’t want any more. When I was released and stood up, before I knew what had happened, I punched him in the solar plexus, which is between the rib cage and the stomach. It was a rapid sharp punch: a martial arts move.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I said calmly as he was dropping to his knees. I was shocked. I didn’t know where this sudden move came from or how I knew such a technique.  It was like a trigger was suddenly pulled.

Later that night in the car, I asked him about the incident.

“It was well placed.” he said.

“I thought maybe you were playing. I didn’t realize I had knocked the breath out of you” I said as he was a prankster.

“No, I wasn’t pretending, it was a punch well placed,” he said again.

I was amazed I could deliver such a punch as it came out of the blue. It felt like I knew what I was doing on some level. My feelings were centered and calm, the move was smooth and precise.

An answer to this question of my skills came at an event with my sister Sammie. We had been invited to the lovely home of a friend of hers who is a homeopathic doctor and a Buddhist.  After our home cooked meal, she invited us to her meditation/contemplation room complete with sitting pillows.  After we got settled, she started to sing a long chant I was unfamiliar with. I decided to listen, focus my attention on my third eye which is between the eyebrows, and close my eyes to see where the sound of this chant took me. And, it did – to a place I had never been or remembered being.

The walls were large grey blocks, the floors were grey also.  A long narrow window was high up on the wall of this roundish room. I could see it snowing outside.  The room was not cold even though there was no glass in this window.

My boyfriend and I, the one I had punched, were in black martial arts clothing, sparring. We were in a match like on TV, serious sparring which ended when the chant stopped. She said we had been sitting there about twenty minutes which seemed almost like an instant.

This experience felt real like a dream of flying you remember for days.  Afterwards, I was in a daze. I didn’t say anything to anyone as I was in a state of wonderment. When I got home, all I could do was sit and stare at the walls as I knew something extraordinary had happened to me.

The confirmation came later when I was at a meeting where the book ECK Wisdom Temples, Spiritual Cities, & Guides:  A Brief History was being passed around. There was a drawing of the place I had experience the sparring incident. It was the Katsupari Monastery Temple of Golden Wisdom in northern Tibet.  It had a window just like the one I had seen in my inner experience except this view was from the outside.

My knowingness told me I was being shown where I had been during the contemplation of the sparring on the inner planes. This book was a validation of where I had been.  I was being shown one of the mysteries of my life on other planes and other times. An awareness of martial arts I brought with me into this special lifetime was shown by these three experiences.

How The Circle of Life Repeats Itself

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On my daughter’s wedding day, I walked  a mowed path through a field of edible milkweed, food for the Monarch.

Walking briskly in the warm spring sun after a light blessing rain, enough to intensify the air with ozone, that alive feeling one gets when breathing deeply of pure love, shaking my snake rattles, moving my hips with each step the figure eight, sending my energy down into the earth bringing this energy up through my body, out through my hands creating a swirl of energy, a wind to swing the two dream catches fastened at my knife’s belt, swinging in rhythm to each step.

Walking this path once again a few months later  on the Equinox, my hips swing less as I have  a slight limp from a fall on my 66th birthday.

Arriving at the cermonial center on this warmish fall day with a slight breeze touching down onto the tops of the plants in the field.  Billowy clouds sending messages when overhead I heard a hawk crying out. There are 15-20 crows cawling, surrounding the hawk.  He didn’t seem to mind at all. He just kept circling as if the crows  weren’t there. Two buzzards joined this party flying low right over me.  It felt like they had come to see me at this Equinox. An awesome experience with nature standing in this ceremonial place where a wedding had taken place last time I was here.

An electric feeling is in the air, goldenrods reaching out to touch me on the path, mildweed pods starting to release their beard looking seeds and the red glow of raspberries leaves all around. Wishing I had my camera, I did have my phone to get some snaps, but I know they won’t be like what I have just experienced on this Equinox day.  This moment is special!

Walking back toward home, thinking about all the very special symbols of my life.  Walking this mowed path, a circle, walking it slowly, with purpose, placing my cane gingerly on the uneven terrain, thinking about how life repeats. The circles of completion, as history does repeat itself.  Deciding when to return to the Land of the Sky to complete a cycle with messages being brought from favorite birds. Knowing my life is special, especially when I share the energy with others!

Walking in the Rain with Turtle Medicine

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It is another blessing rain this morning with falls electric colors splashed on the landscape.  I breathe in the gift of life with gratitude as I can walk in the rain once again, this time being more careful not to fall and hurt myself.

My rain jacket seemed heavy, funny, I didn’t notice that when I hung it up.  It felt like there was something in one of it’s four pockets.  It was my turtle bag Terri, my sister-in-law, gifted me with in Bemidgi, MN the mouth of the Mississippi on my 66th birthday.  First thing I thought was to ask forgiveness for falsely accusing others of stealing it from my checked suitcase, figuring someone else needed it more than I did.

Then, I was so grateful to have it as I pulled a note from the heart of this turtle bag to be reminded how much I am loved.  Terri had written a hasty love note the day I left Oley’s Outpost for a quick flight to have knee surgery.  IT has been tucked away, hidden, until this day of blessed rain, until the time was right for me to have a reminded to slow down, to know that life’s fullest abundance is mine, that heaven and earth do connect.

Life is so interesting with it’s tapestry of mystery always reminding me to look on the bright side of life trusting in love as I make my first stroll through a grocery store since my accident.  So grateful to be able to walk again. Grateful there is lentil stew is on the stove, the dusk glow is golden, my turtle bag is on my side and I know I am loved.