I was trying to do one of the exercises from, "
Finding the Deep River Within
" by
Abby Seixas this morning. Trying is the key word. I don't generally feel that I am able to do things easily, to follow directions, to achieve desired results. The idea was to become quiet, in itself a doubtful thing for me to do even on a good day, and then to hark back to a time in my life when I was able to experience that deep river of consciousness.
I lay upon my bed and listened to my breathing and tried to think of a time when I had felt an overwhelming feeling of God or of a cosmic something. I knew there had been moments that made me cry, that could certainly have qualified, but for some reason each as I thought of them did not fill the bill and satisfy the requirement of this exercise.
My guides kept saying to me to remember earlier times. Seth urged me to keep going back in time to when I was younger and younger. I thought for a moment of that time when, in 1960 or 1961 when we lived in Lubbock, Texas. I was either 5 or 6 years old, probably 5. It was certainly a significant moment when I became aware. I remember that moment in time when, as a little girl I somehow realized there was more to my life than what was directly in front of me. But, that was not, "The" moment.
I lay quietly bemoaning the fact that, once again, I had failed at a simple exercise. Then, I tried again and decided that this time I would allow the memory to come my way by itself. That, this time in attempting to find a moment when I had experienced the deep river, that I would just be receptive and open and just allow it to happen rather than me trying to force it.
Quickly I had my memory. It was when I learned to tie my shoes. I remember that I sat in the doorway of my grandparents home, wedged with my back against one side of the door jamb and my feet not quite reaching the other side; the kitchen to my right, yellow and sunny and to my left the den, dark with the canaries in their big cage, the deer mounted on the walls above me. There was a grizzly bear rug on the floor we would play on, twining our fingers in his mouth, his tongue permanently rippled as if in life.
I had thought someone would have shown me how to tie my shoes. They would have taught me. But there was no one there. It was just me wrapping the laces around my ankles in a criss-crossed fashion as if I were a ballerina.
And, I sat there quietly, blocking the way. I guess if people had wanted to get into the kitchen or into the den they would have had to step over me. I do not remember if they did. There were certainly other ways into each of those rooms. Maybe everybody just left me alone. I played with the laces, I worked them and finally I tied my shoes. I remember the intense feeling of satisfaction I had and I shouted to anyone who would listen that I had tied my own shoes.
I'm a channel. And, I talk to folk in Spirit. That's my guides and it's also people, like any of us, who have passed on. My grandmother, Harriet Nieman, died when I was 8 years old. I remember looking out of the back of our car as we drove away seeing her and Granddaddy standing on top of the hill, at the end of their driveway on Balcones Drive in Austin, Texas. And, I thought I would never see her alive again. She died 2 weeks later.
Anyway, this morning as I realized the memory I was looking for had arrived I knew it was the "right one" because I had a slight hitch in my breathing, as if a little sigh had halfway escaped. I was reminded of the
Focusing techniques I've used in the past to try to figure out what was bothering me and I realized that my body had just informed me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this memory of learning to tie my shoes was the one.
Then, my grandmother said to me, "That was when I knew you were a smart cookie." It was sort of funny because she used to give me tests. I never really amounted to much. I mean I'm no different than a lot of people. I'm just ordinary. She was the only one who actually thought I was smart. In my family life was too pressured for anybody to do much more than try to survive. Excelling was sort of out of the question. Especially for my sister and me. I think kids are lucky now that girls and women have more opportunities to do things than I did when I was growing up. But, that's spilled milk and I'm not going to cry over it now.
What my grandmother said to me this morning though, helped me to understand just why it was that she had pressed for me to have those tests. They never did tell me what they were about. I was just a little girl sort of bewildered by the attention I got, brief though it was. I think when I started going a little nuts was when I was discounted and nobody paid much attention to me anymore. That's when I was safe.
So, interesting things happening this morning.
And, I sat here at my computer thinking about it and decided now was the time I was going to purchase my own copy of, "Finding the Deep River Within". My library copy is due back on Thursday and I already owe 90¢ for having let it go too long before I renewed it. And, somehow the magic of that exercise I did continued because at Amazon I clicked on one of those, "Other Readers who were looking for your book were also interested in":
David Whyte who I had not heard of, but who sounds like a really interesting fellow to follow up on and via that link I then ran across this rather haunting video of
Jerry Wennstrom, who I also didn't know about. All in all a really interesting morning. Thanks Abby!
And enjoy.
Labels: Thank you
I have talked occasionally on ruts and how to get out of them. Having great personal experience with ruts I figured I was probably as qualified as the next person to talk about them. Plus, this is my site, so I can talk about what I want to talk about.
