Rest in Peace Isaac Hayes

What a sad few days. Losing Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes in one weekend. Not to mention thousands dying in an eruption of violence on the Russia/Georgia border. Things sure do feel intense, just now. Intense and sad.

Graham Hancock's "Quest for the Lost Civilization"

Some helpful soul has posted this movie on YouTube. It seems to be out of print and near impossible to get, although I have a page set up in the bookstore, where you may be able to purchase it on VHS. But unless and until it is issued on DVD, opportunities for viewing have been limited. It is highly recommended viewing. Enjoy.

On Trusting Inner Knowing

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I can't remember how we got on the topic the other day, but my husband put me in mind of a rather significant event in my childhood. I hadn't thought about this in years. But, it occurs to me that it's an instructional tale on the power of that sense of inner knowing that can be so pivotal in our lives. More importantly, it reminds me of how important it is for parents, like myself, to acknowledge that even very small children have powerful instincts that should be respected and protected.

I was 8 years old. We were visiting with relatives out west, when I had a painful accident. I was roller skating with another little girl, a neighbor of my relatives. I tripped over a piece of newspaper and went down hard. Certain that my leg had been broken, I refused to move. The little girl went and found my mother. My mother did what any parent would. She felt my leg, and, not feeling anything out of place, told me that my leg was fine and that I should try to stand up. I refused.

For a good half hour, we went on like this. My mother who was as gentle natured a person as has ever walked the earth, was certain that my ankle was, at worst sprained, and tried to convince me to get up off the ground and come into the house. I refused.

"It's broken," I said, over and over. "I know it's broken."

Finally, unable to convince me to even try to stand, my mother accepted the inevitable. An ambulance was called. The paramedics also felt my leg, and feeling nothing out of place, suggested I try standing. I refused.

When I was admitted to the ER and my leg was x-rayed, it could no longer be denied that my leg was, most definitely, broken. Not only was it broken, it was a compound fracture. It turned out that I had what is generally referred to as a "ski break." It's the kind of fracture that occurs when there is a combination of torque and impact. The main fracture spiraled around the bone three times, and from it there issued a multitude of little fractures.

The punch line? Had I attempted to stand on that leg, the entire bone would have shattered. It would have required major surgery and the bone would be held together with pins, to this day. As it happens, it healed perfectly. It took three months for the cast to come off and I endured months of physical therapy to rebuild the muscle, but it healed completely. So, completely, that I haven't thought about the incident in years.

I wish I could say that all such stories, in my life, end as happily. Many do not. For every time I have listened to and fought for what I inexplicably knew internally, I have failed to do so. The results have inevitably been disastrous. The lesson in every case has been to trust my gut instincts. Now, I hope I can remember that.

New Harry Potter Trailer

The trailer for "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" is up. It looks awesome, of course. If it's not evident, I have full-blown Pottermania. I've read them all. The books are genius and the movies as faithful to the source material as movies can possibly be. You still need to read the books, though, to fully comprehend what Rowling has put forth, which could be summed up as "Alchemy for Dummies." Potter is much deeper and much more rich in knowledge than is obvious at first glance, as this site, Harry Potter for Seekers, makes abundantly clear.

Thoughts on Powerlessness

Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance,
complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness,
patience, receptivity, solitude is everything.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

So, I'm laying here, immobilized with the head-cold from hell, and it occurs to me what an ego-killer illness is. My husband refers to these episodes with cold or flu as "hitting the reset button." That sums it up well. These are massive interruptions in the momentum of our lives. You can do little but let everything come to a screaming halt, and even when you recover, you can't just pick up where you left off. Not completely. Some threads are broken. Some projects you wished to accomplish have already passed their freshness date and can't be taken up again. Even if it's a day or two, a chunk of your life is gone, never to be restored.

As I lay here, it's hard not to focus on all the things I cannot do. I need to unload and reload the dishwasher but I can't seem to stand upright for more than a few minutes and even that is torture. Shower. (See previous explanation.) Eat. My taste buds are compromised so everything sounds dreadful. It requires too much effort, anyway. Clean the house. (The standing and walking thing, again.) I'd love to do some yoga, but... the standing... oh, and the forward bends that would cause my sinus headache to reach critical mass. Or, just blog this wonderful article on yoga a friend sent me, but right now, I'm having trouble remembering what I even thought about it when I read it.


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With little to do but contemplate the great mysteries of life, I find that even this, my greatest passion, is lost to me. It's as if some giant hand has played 52 pick-up with my thoughts. They're all in a jumble. I'm not sure what I believe... about anything. Now, I'm no fan of certainty, but I usually have some idea, some running narrative in my head, about life, the universe, the myths that shape our reality... Today... I got nothin.' Things I believed a week ago now seem puerile and reductive. I am suddenly overwhelmed, not only by the unmeetable demands of my daily, material life, but by the acute awareness that "the more I learn, the less I know." It all just feels impossible.

Now, on some level, I know that my sense of awareness and capability will return; that I will find the pathways through my mind again. I will remember my sense of purpose. But for now, I'm just a heap of broken circuitry.

This is a mini ego death. I've lost my sense of self, if only for a day or two. And, it occurs to me what a beautiful thing that is. Uncomfortable. Definitely. Assaults on the ego are never pleasant, but they are absolutely necessary. A reset button, indeed. The universe is just clearing out some of the old programming and forcing me back to the beginner mind.

A little over a month ago, I faced a different sort of interruption in the streaming content of my life. My computer died, suddenly, without warning. It was a power supply issue, now resolved. I moved quickly through the five stages of grief, finding, strangely, that it was a relief having that electronic tether cut. I discharged a number of day to day responsibilities and distractions that I have accumulated in my online life. I saw that the universe was, once again, hitting a giant reset button, and forcing me to be still, contemplative, and receptive. I realized something. The internet brings a crushing weight of information. Having the world at your fingertips is as exhausting and overstimulating as it is fascinating. I thought seriously about never reconnecting to the www. But, here, as in all things, the struggle is to find that middle path that allows me to live in the material world without being consumed by it.


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The night before my new battery arrived, I dreamt of a bluejay. Bluejay's medicine is "appropriate use of power," if you don't know it. Bluejay and I have a longstanding relationship that started, to my knowledge, when I was attacked by one, as a small child. It dove straight at the top of my head and violently ruffled my hair. My mother insisted I must have gotten close to its nest, but I saw no nest, and it flew from a perch high in an old oak tree. No. Bluejay was trying, even then, to open up my crown chakra. So this night, before my battery unexpectedly arrived, I dreamt that I had a bluejay for a pet. I had saved it from some danger and it came to live in an open cage in my house, coming and going as it pleased. I expect it will take me years to sort out what, exactly, that means. And that's as it should be.

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke, from "Letters to a Young Poet"

Slutbucks, Serpent Towers, and the Myth of Melusine

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It would appear that Starbucks shares my fascination with ophidian goddesses. And, at least one Christian group is up in arms over their display of reptilian tails.

The logo comes from an old sixteenth-century Norse woodcut and features a bare-chested woman with a mermaid-style fish tail that is split in half.

The Resistance, a Christian activist group based in San Diego, says the woman looks like a prostitute and suggests the firm should be calling itself “Slutbucks” instead.

. . .

"The Starbucks logo has a naked woman on it with her legs spread like a prostitute," said Mr Dice.

. . .

"The woman is actually a siren, not a mermaid, which in Greek mythology lures people to them with their beautiful songs, and then kills them," said Mr Dice.

Yes, Mr. Dice. Female sexuality is very terrifying.

Mr. Dice is close. The image is associated with siren mythology, but to be specific, she is Melusine. She is, in fact, half serpent. Be afraid, Mr. Dice. Be very afraid.

There are a few different versions of the myth of Melusine. She is sometimes depicted with two tales, as in the Norse image taken by Starbucks; sometimes only one. This is one iteration of her myth.

The fairy, Melusine, was the daughter of the fairy Pressyne and King Elynas of Albany. She became the fairy Queen of the forest of Colombiers in the French region of Poitou. One day, she and two of her subjects were guarding their sacred fountain when a young man, Raymond of Poitiers, burst out of the forest. Melusine spent the night talking with Raymond, and by dawn, they were betrothed, but with one condition. Melusine requested that Raymond promise that he would never see her on a Saturday. He agreed, and they were married. Melusine brought her husband great wealth and prosperity. She built the fortress of Lusignan so quickly that it appeared to be made by magic. Over time, Melusine built many castles, fortresses, churches, towers and towns, each in a single night, throughout the region. She and Raymond had ten children, but each child was flawed. The eldest had one red eye and one blue eye, the next had an ear larger than the other, another had a lion’s foot growing from his cheek, and another had but one eye. The sixth son was known as Geoffrey-with-the-great tooth, as he had a very large tooth. In spite of the deformities, the children were strong, talented and loved throughout the land.

One day, Raymond’s brother visited him and made Raymond very suspicious about the Saturday activities of his wife. So the next Saturday, Raymond sought his wife, finding her in her bath where he spied on her through a crack in the door. He was horrified to see that she had the body and tail of a serpent from her waist down. He said nothing until the day that their son, Geoffrey-with-the-great tooth, attacked a monastery and killed one hundred monks, including one of his brothers. Raymond accused Melusine of contaminating his line with her serpent nature, thus revealing that he had broken his promise to her.

As a result, Melusine turned into a fifteen-foot serpent, circled the castle three times, wailing piteously, and then flew away. She would return at night to visit her children, then vanish. Raymond was never happy again. Melusine appeared at the castle, wailing, whenever a count of Lusignan was about to die or a new one to be born. It was said that the noble line which originated with Melusine will reign until the end of the world. Her children included the King of Cyprus, the King of Armenia, the King of Bohemia, the Duke of Luxembourg, and the Lord of Lusignan.

Le Tour de Melusine
Vouvant, Vendee

Said to have been built in a single night.

There is an intriguing association between water serpent myths and round towers found all over the world.

Like pyramids, circular towers of stone are found on both sides of the Atlantic. The common figure linking these structures, however, proves to be the serpent or snake. Cultures as diverse as the Celts of Ireland and the Hopi of Arizona associate this religiously and psychologically charged reptile with round temples reaching toward moisture-laden storm clouds.

Over 65 towers of exquisite masonry, many rising over 100 feet high, dot the green countryside of Ireland. The monasteries of Monasterboice, Domhnach, and Kilkenny were all built adjacent to earlier round towers. Some researchers claim these commanding structures were fire temples dedicated to sun worship. Why, then, are round towers frequently located next to healing springs or holy wells issuing from the subterranean realm over which the snake rules?

Vatican Approves Belief in Aliens

Ezekiel saw de wheel
Way in de middle o' de air
Ezekiel saw de wheel
In de middle o' de air

-- Traditional "Negro Spiritual"

The Vatican has weighed in on the debate over the existence of life on other planets and pronounced it plausible and consistent with a belief in God.

The Rev. Jose Gabriel Funes, the Jesuit director of the Vatican Observatory, was quoted as saying the vastness of the universe means it is possible there could be other forms of life outside Earth, even intelligent ones.

"How can we rule out that life may have developed elsewhere?" Funes said. "Just as we consider earthly creatures as 'a brother,' and 'sister,' why should we not talk about an 'extraterrestrial brother'? It would still be part of creation."

. . .

The interview, headlined "The extraterrestrial is my brother," covered a variety of topics including the relationship between the Roman Catholic Church and science, and the theological implications of the existence of alien life.

Fumes also tried to salve the wounds of barbaric persecutions of its past.

Funes urged the church and the scientific community to leave behind divisions caused by Galileo's persecution 400 years ago, saying the incident has "caused wounds."

In 1633 the astronomer was tried as a heretic and forced to recant his theory that the Earth revolved around the sun. Church teaching at the time placed Earth at the center of the universe.

No indication, at this time, of similar advancement on gay tolerance or abortion rights.

Even A Broken Clock...

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is right twice a day. And sometimes David Brooks writes a really worthwhile column. Today it's nice overview of the bridging of science and mystical thought.

Scientists have more respect for elevated spiritual states. Andrew Newberg of the University of Pennsylvania has shown that transcendent experiences can actually be identified and measured in the brain (people experience a decrease in activity in the parietal lobe, which orients us in space). The mind seems to have the ability to transcend itself and merge with a larger presence that feels more real.

This new wave of research will not seep into the public realm in the form of militant atheism. Instead it will lead to what you might call neural Buddhism.

. . .

First, the self is not a fixed entity but a dynamic process of relationships. Second, underneath the patina of different religions, people around the world have common moral intuitions. Third, people are equipped to experience the sacred, to have moments of elevated experience when they transcend boundaries and overflow with love. Fourth, God can best be conceived as the nature one experiences at those moments, the unknowable total of all there is.

A Quick Note on the West Memphis Three

A glance through my stats tells me that interest in the West Memphis Three is way up, which makes sense because we may be reaching a turning point in this tragic saga. I originally covered this story here, some time ago. Every day for the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that page coming up in the stats. This morning, though, the search criteria was so interesting, I had to respond. One item searched for: "John Mark Byers is innocent." Yes, my internet wondering friend, I think he is. He really looked like a guilty man in the "Paradise Lost" documentaries, but there is more evidence connecting the step-father of another of the murdered boys, Terry Hobbs, whose DNA is consistent with hairs recovered at the murder scene. Byers has made a dramatic turn-around and has taken to wearing Free the WM3 t-shirts. Why? Mounting evidence that is pretty hard to refute, for anyone but the most logic-resistant among us.

I had hoped to blog a bit about the new developments in this case late last year, but was too busy with the whole Christmas thing to write much of anything. There have been major break-throughs in this case. Much of it is summed up in these videos. They're a little slow going, in the way that only lawyer speak can be, but they are utterly compelling. In a nutshell. There is no DNA evidence -- or any other -- connecting the convicted boys to the murder. Much of the mutilation of the bodies was caused by animal predation after the fact; not some horrific ritual killing. Also, as stated above, the only physical evidence implicates Terry Hobbs and one of his associates.



So to the intrepid web surfer looking for the following tidbit: "damien echols -- PSYCHICS DID HE DO IT," I can only say, NO!!

A Meditation on Suffering

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In the most recent Energy Alert from Karen Bishop, "Surviving the Storm" -- Feb. 23, 2008, she invokes the issue of suffering. Like most of her alerts, the issue felt very timely. I know I'm feeling depleted, exhausted, frustrated, and beset by a sadness and anger that, like so many of the collective experiences that Bishop explains so well, has no nameable source. In the alert she gives her explanation of the higher purpose of suffering.

Suffering is occurring to support individuals into making a change. When we are extremely miserable, we are more inclined to be open to doing things differently, or perhaps inclined to let go of internal patterns that have continued to cause us misery for a very long time. And as most of us know, we are the ones who cause ourselves misery, and in this way, we are then empowered to make change, as changing ourselves is what creates the change on the outside as well, and then the ball is in our own court.

It can be difficult and very challenging to watch all this suffering around us. Our hearts go out to those involved. We deeply care. It can at times seem as though the world has gone mad. But we must also remember that each and every one of us is on our own unique journey, and our journeys are what create the needed changes.

In one of those delightful, little synchronicities of which life is so full, I stumbled on some very useful material, while assembling YouTube videos for my bookstore players. In these segments Pema Chodron explains the practice of tonglen; the use of suffering as a means to awakening.



In this video, from an appearance at The Omega Institute, Chodron offers a tonglen meditation on suffering in a time of war.

Mr. Deity

I only just stumbled on this incredibly brilliant show. It used to appear on YouTube, but now has an exclusive deal with Crackle. This is unfortunate because Crackle's players are not nearly as user-friendly or functional as YouTube. For the second season, though, you have to go here.