The Butterfly and the Rose

A Butterfly and A Rose

This journal is not about an unpopular election though it starts that way. It's not about who's on
the right or the left. It's actually about the aftermath of an election twelve months ago and the ensuing chaos that resulted. It's a story of what was done to deal with the chaos consuming the external world and what we did to soothe our inner lives for the next 12 months.

A year ago the unthinkable happened. Fed up with politics as usual, a man without qualifications, a man demeaned in the media, a man said to be unelectable, and a man who appealed to the darkest and most unkind parts of our collective nature got elected. On November 7th we woke up to an unrecognizable normal. The world had turned upside down.

Half of the country was ecstatic. The other half was overcome by shock and disbelief. Surely, it was a big mistake. But as the days wore on the second group realized there was no mistake. Soon they were entombed in the five stages of grief beginning with denial. They reasoned, maybe the vile days of the campaign were over and sanity would be restored. When that hope
was rebuffed, they became enraged. Plans were made for massive marches on Washington or on congressional offices.

Some, holding to the spirit of reconciliation, decided to find out who the voters were. They went out to meet them in their homes and listen to what they said. They drove to the heartland and to cities between the two liberal coasts. They attempted a bargain, determined to understand exactly what happened on November 6th. Sadly, most of the understanding they sought evaporated as anger again surfaced.

Then depression arrived. It our household it descended like a vise-grip. Seeking solace the TV was turned off. We spent sad days staring into space. We wondered aloud how we'd survive the next four or maybe eight years. We gave up some friends who thought differently to us. The endless clashes of differing beliefs only served to strengthen the bitterness and divide between us.

Big events are inescapable. They happen outside our control. But personal reaction to them is always a choice, especially when the choice is to stand in the heart. It was clear our depressed
state of being could not continue for the foreseeable future. Sitting on the lanai one morning a butterfly landed on a brilliant pink rose and slowly spread its wings for a few minutes before flying off. The yellow of the butterfly, the hot pink rose, the green grass, and the blue skies came together like a living impressionistic painting. It was a vivid reminder that there was still beauty around us and A Butterfly and A Rose could bring a smile and ease the soul.

Soft feelings of joy welled up from inside. Looking around the trees became intense green and the water on the lake was sparkling. An Osprey glided over the water searching for food. Things weren't so bleak. The natural world, oblivious to election results, proclaimed life goes on. Through that lens of reality one word surfaced slowly. It was Gratitude. No matter what was happening outside, there was always something to be grateful for. There was a choice on how to deal with the chaos around us. That choice was, "stop wallowing and work with the tools we
teach." And in that moment a daily ritual began.

Using Facebook, a photo with an uplifting message asked friends to comment on something that brought them Gratitude. No one responded at first. But every day The Call to Gratitude went out. Soon, one or two replied, then it began to blossom, affecting many who read it. Comments were posted from friends and then friends of friends. No one posted that they won the lottery. Yet most reached down deep and found some small thing they were grateful for. A call from a grandson was the highlight of one day. Waking up without pain one morning was memorable for one. It wasn't the big things in life that called out Gratitude. Instead small day to day events, like finding a perfect paint color for a living room, were posted. The summons opened the door for individuals who only lurked to realize they too had something to say. Soon, the Gratitude posts spawned others to do the same with their own circle of friends.

The last stage of grief is acceptance. Gratitude as it turns out, is much richer and deeper than
the acceptance of the election. When reminded, everyone searched for something to be grateful for. That practice soothed their own stages of grief. Many called it their morning medicine. A year later it's grown from a personal practice to a movement.

This month is the national holiday of Thanksgiving. But the Call to Gratitude practice happens every day. It reminds those who read it to a pause every morning and focus on something to be grateful for. It could be greeting the rising sun, or walking in the rain, or a friendly smile in the grocery store. That daily ritual puts life in perspective and reminds you to paint personal butterflies on roses. Wishing you all endless days of Gratitude for all the small things that bring joy into your life.

                                                                                           Jo Mooy - November 2017  

A Boot Camp Retreat

A Boot Camp Retreat 

   

Winter's news was overwhelming.  Newtown and the Boston Bombing gripped the nation.  Then congress and the senate weighed in.  Even after Tucson, Aurora and then Newtown, lawmakers still held that fishing required a license but simplebackground checks for gun purchases did not.  The moral compass of the world felt like it was spiraling out of control.  And so too were my own sensibilities.  I needed a break from the news, from external contact, and away from my normal routine.  But where?

The invitation came.  Spend ten days (twelve if you count arrival and departure days) in a Noble Silent Retreat.  It would be held in the middle of a swamp in Georgia where attendees would remain in silent meditation twelve hours per day starting at 4 am and ending with lights out at 9 pm.  Two vegetarian meals would be served.  A Code of Conduct demanded students abstain from: killing, stealing, lying, sexual misconduct and all intoxicants during the retreat. Reading the invitation I wondered if the Code of Conduct should be a licensing requirement for all government officials to hold office.  Nonetheless, the retreat sounded perfect.

On arrival day, our group of thirty men and thirty women gathered in a room to get our instructions.  Surrender all cell phones, electronics, notebooks and car keys!  Sign the Code of Conduct and get room assignments - men to one dorm, women to the other.  No talking, no sign language, no mixing with the opposite sex, no walkingin other than the approved area!  Meditation was only allowed in your room or the meditation hall! 

Days were strictly structured and disciplined.  A gong sounded at 4 am signaling the start of the first two hour meditation.  Breakfast and showering followed.  Then a three hour meditation until lunch.  After lunch and a period for rest, meditation began again until tea break in the early evening.  After tea there was another group meditation and a discourse on the teachings followed by lights out at 9 pm.  This was the daily schedule for the entire retreat.

We entered the meditation hall for the first time on arrival day where we were given our seat assignments and our first meditation instruction.  Our names were placed on small cushions lined up in rows.  That spot would be our 'home' for meditation during the remainder of the retreat.  And it did become a 'home' in a way because if someone overslept or was missing in action everyone knew immediately and the proctor would respond.

Every serious meditation instruction teaches how to watch the breath.  But this "Boot Camp" meditation training took it to a much deeper level. When you focus on watching the breath touch the edges of the nostrils for twelve hours, a shift in yourreality occurs.  The breath becomes a living entity.  It can be hot or cold, moist or dry, rapid or slow.  It can go in one nostril or both. And during each sit, the experience is different because each breath is different.
It was like meeting a new friend.

The daily training builds on the previous day's instruction.  For 3 days all we did was focus on the breath, so when Day 3 was over, your mind, which had been occupied with watching the breath, convinces you, "Peace of cake!  I've got it now!" Nay Nay!  For when the training changes on Day 4 to body sensations you feel you're back to ground zero.  The mind, held captive for three days with  breathing instruction, now had to do something different and it balked.  Old head games and wild thoughts began.  I need to get out of here; I can't do this for six more days; This is a cult; This is a crock; Who do I have to see to get my car keys?  The thoughts were relentless and I was ready to succumb to them.

Then I remembered I'd come with someone and realized she might be having a wondrous experience so it was wrong to interrupt that for her.  I fought the urge to bolt and reluctantly stayed the course.  Day 5 was a horror of experiences but on Day 6 without any conscious effort on my part, something shifted inside.  I'd wanted to get far away from news and my normal routine.  That was happening.  But more importantly I began to feel different, more connected and more peaceful about everything.  A large scorpion with stingers erect sitting near my feet did not botherme or I it.  I simply watched it, following my breath, aware of the sensations of fear give way to acceptance coursing through my body.  Then the scorpion moved on.  I also wanted to experience the magic that they promised would occur on Day 10.

I'm glad I stayed because the promise was kept.  Every person experiences Day 10 differently and I don't want to spoil it for anyone reading this.  But I can say it was worth the wait.  I'd spent 12 days with 30 women I didn't know, yet I realized I'd kindled a relationship with them as important as the relationships with people I'd known my whole life.  I'd been through the  "mind-wars" with them and 29 of us survived.  (One did not make it to the end; she left on Day 9.)  Without talking or making eye-contact we got to know each other solely through our shared experiences and the energy we created through our unconscious mannerisms and behavior.  And on Day 10 we laughed, talked, and shared what we'd experienced with each other during the silent time.

I'd learned detachment through the training of the senses in this retreat.  But that training took me to a place of wisdom and inner knowing that detachment did not mean disengagement.  I experienced the intrinsic meaning of the coming into and out of existence in all our life cycles, whether it was thoughts, feelings, sensations, seasons, or actual events.  I developed a kinship and connection with the visible and invisible worlds that had become instinctual.  I returned to the world I'd left  behind with a much better understanding and knowing that whatever was in front of me, "it too shall pass."  And I realized what the training taught me about myself - that I could endure and withstand anything!  So much so, I'll be going back again next year.

Jo Mooy - August 2013   

Seeing the Soul

There's a traditional view of reincarnation that most of us subscribe to.  We're born as a baby, go through life, get old and then die.  Then after death we're told our soul goes somewhere.  The "somewhere" depends on the religion or belief system we were born into.  After a period of time, we come back or reincarnate into another body and do the same thing all over again.

But what exactly comes back into incarnation each time?  That question was the focus of  my esoteric studies for many years.  Reincarnation is a key tenet in many Eastern religions.  The Gnostic scrolls, unearthed in the last 60 years, point to the unmistakable teachings of reincarnation that were taught by Jesus.  It's clear in the scrolls that one's fate is determined by one's current life.  But what about the soul?  Where does it go?  What does it look like?  Does it come back?

Reincarnation has become part of the mass consciousness in the last 50 years.  Highly regarded researchers like Dr. Ian Stevenson of the University of Virginia used scientific protocols to exhaustively research over 3,000 cases of children worldwide who claim to have reincarnated.  But another phenomenon causing scientific interest is called Near-Death Experiences or NDEs.

Dr. Kenneth Ring is Professor Emeritus at the University of Connecticut and one of the leading scholars on NDEs.  In one of his documented cases a girl who nearly drowned at the age of 7 reported seeing two adults "waiting to be born."  In another case, an individual stated she got information from a group milling around as "they were all waiting for reincarnation."  Again the questions came - who or what was waiting to be born.

My own research took me to the most ancient religious writings of India.  The Hindu Vedas said the soul reincarnated.  The Yoga Sutras say the same thing.  The Buddhist teachings state the "soul is reborn."  That sounded good enough.  The NDEs said people were waiting to be born, but what did the soul look like?

I turned again to the individual stories of those who had Near-Death Experiences.  One said, "I became a ball of light."  Another said, "spiritual beings were observing me inside a crystal sphere."  A young man described "A shimmering, luminescent sphere enveloped me, making me feel as if I had stepped into a crystal globe."  And in a well documented case, a young woman said, "I was there with this glowing orb."

Looking to back up the NDEs with the teachings of the mystics, I went to the Eastern texts.  The Hindu Vedas describe the soul as a "gossamer light" and more telling,  "a bubble of light."  The Sufi mystic teacher Inayat Khan said the soul was "a sphere of light."  With those definitions, the connection was instantaneous.  Orbs are images of the soul or spirits.

With the advent of digital photography a phenomenon called Orbs began to appear in photographs.  Orbs are spherical and transparent bodies of light that superimpose themselves in the photo.  Orbs appear most frequently in nature photos or during highly charged emotional events like parties, funerals, or children playing.  Sometimes the Orbs are stationary, other times they're in motion, leaving a trail of light behind them like a comet. 

Some claim that orbs are simply dust, pollen, or atmospheric conditions that occur due to the reflection of light in the camera.  Others dispute that theory as do I.  Why?  Because, though I've seen Orbs in my photographs since 2003, I've also seen Orbs without a camera and witnessed them "powering up" when spoken to.  The most remarkable occurrence was two days after the death of my neighbor.  The lights in my house began to flicker on and off.  When I ventured into the living room I saw two very large Orbs near the ceiling.  Realizing Kathy had just passed I asked, "Is that you, Kathy?"  At that moment, one of the Orbs powered up brightly and stayed that way for about ten seconds.  Knowing Kathy wanted to be with her mother who had previously passed over, I asked "Is that your mother with you?"  And the second Orb powered up.  Eventually, they both faded from view, but not before being documented by two people in the house.

The mystical interpretations offered by the Hindu Vedas, Inayat Khan, Edgar Cayce  and the many Near-Death Experiencers do point to a common definition of what the soul looks like.  The soul is an Orb or an iridescent Sphere of Light.  And now the technology is available to see the soul with our digital cameras.  And yes, we can even communicate with it.  The next time you photograph an event, look for the Orbs in the viewfinder.  If you don't see them, feel them.  If you can't feel them, speak to them and invite them to appear.  They will!  I've done it for ten years.

Jo Mooy - April 2013

Ancestors, Reincarnation, Life Continuity

Ancestors, Reincarnation & Life Continuity  

   

 

I took an intensive eastern seminar on Reincarnation in the Fall of last year. But the introspection it caused at a family reunion a few months later was unexpected. Reincarnation is the belief that after the death of the body, the soul comes back (or incarnates) into another body or form. It's a key tenet in many Eastern religions like Buddhism, Hinduism, Jain, and Druze. Though Christianity disdains the concept, Jesus, who studied these teachings in the Far East said, "If you are willing to accept it, he (John the Baptist) is Elijah who is to come." Now, in the last fifty years or so reincarnation has become part of the mass consciousness.   

But whether or not you subscribe to the notion of reincarnation isn't important, because what I experienced recently at our family reunion in the West Indies certainly shined light upon the idea of the continuity of Life. And within that continuity, was the passing forward of ideals along with genetic materials. It makes one ponder if such things as ideas, beliefs and yes, soul preferences, might also be handed down through the DNA along with facial traits, hair color and height. And it makes me wonder at how close my connection still is with ancestors who have long ago passed to the other side even as I formed new bonds with the youngest children of my extended family who are just setting out on their soul's journey in life.

The endless continuity of life became clear as a lineage expanding across four generations unfolded both visibly and ethereally. Two grandparents, born in Antigua in the late 1800's, birthed 8 children and left a family tree numbering more than 120 aunts, uncles, cousins and grandchildren. Only twenty cousins and three surviving children who grew up on the island knew those grandparents. But, we were able to look across the field of generations gathered for a week and identify the stature, characteristics, gait, personalities and familial resemblances embedded in most of their distant offspring.

It began for me as soon as the plane arrived on the island. Leaving customs, a familiar face on the sidewalk outside beamed at me in welcome. I stopped mid-stride because the face belonged to my close cousin Frankie. Except Frankie had died in 2007. With brain cells racing to clarify the impression I watched the family resemblance morph into the face of Brian, Frankie's younger brother. It was not to be the last encounter with long departed relatives.

The esoteric reincarnation seminar taught that life "over there" is not separate from life here on earth. We believe its separate because it cannot be seen. It cannot be seen because the vibrations of those on earth are denser by nature than the vibrations of the spirit realms. The fact is, the soul does not "go anywhere after death" but rather occupies all space. It retains memories, knowledge, impressions, thoughts and vibrations from its life on earth and holds that together in ethereal energy packets. Those packets are picked up and used by both the incoming incarnating souls and the outgoing souls leaving incarnation. The question has to be, does choosing a packet filled with my grandparents energetic materials then draw that new soul into this family and this history?

When we journey into incarnation we do not journey alone, but rather pick up the vibrations and packets of the family relationships. The familial connection is held intact in soul groups by using the DNA of the family tree to anchor the relationship connections. So, seeing resemblances in multi-generational descendants of family members is not unusual. Rather, its proof of how group souls continue to incarnate in families. But, as each generation processes the energy packets of information and live out the karmic purposes of the group, the family tree begins to branch out from its origins. And as karmic lessons are learned, different packets will then be deposited for the new comers (or returning souls for the reincarnationists) which then further alters the family destiny and forms new purposes.

  

When families gather for events like a reunion, it's more likely that well-known ancestors, or those recently departed, will make an appearance in one way or another. All of us who knew my grandfather on the island saw him "reborn" in the image of his twenty-first grandchild. We all remarked that Michael not only was the image of our grandfather in stature and mannerism but also carried a strong resemblance to our great-grandmother. The reincarnation seminar taught that the heredity of physical attributes are more easily passed on, and if the grandparent had strong qualities they would more readily appear in a daughter or grandson than in a son. This turned out to be accurate because my grandfather had eight daughters and one son. Each daughter inherited his strength, confidence, steadfastness, creativity, passion for learning and business acumen. In grandson Michael's case those grandfather qualities helped him conquer difficulties in life and be successful in his own family business.

  

While heredity plays an important part in the family tree, the veils between the dimensions thin out during significant family gatherings. My mother who grew up on Antigua always called it "home." She learned to body-surf as a child at the sometimes treacherous Half Moon Bay, her favorite place on the island. It was also the place the family always met on Sundays. During the reunion it was one of the spots selected for a day-long picnic and swim. I watched my seventy-six year old aunt, the youngest of the eight girls, go out to the towering waves and body surf with her nephews "one last time." Though tossed around by the pounding surf, she gamely took the swells for about twenty minutes. She said it was like surfing with her sisters in the 1940's and 50's.

  

Very early the following morning while it was still dark outside, I recapped the day at Half Moon Bay and commented how much my mother would have loved to be there. At that instant, two of us witnessed the bathroom door which had been closed all night, open up slowly revealing a ray of light across the hallway floor. After the chills up and down my arms eased I simply said, "Hi mom!" knowing beyond a doubt it was she. It was one of the unusual happenings with the ancestors that many experienced during the reunion.

  

The reincarnation seminar said these occurrences would happen with regularity, especially when emotional family events were taking place. It was a way for spirits long departed to communicate with empathic family members still living, sending a message that life continues beyond the grave. Some cousins had an affinity for repeat numbers like 11:11 or 12:12 or 3:33.  They may have been sharing a story about their deceased parent and suddenly note that the clock face said 3:33 or 12:12.

  

The stories by themselves and the unusual experiences do not prove reincarnation but they do reveal a continuity of life and a strong connection within families. When we held a ceremony at the family grave site, unveiling a new headstone marker, it gave all of us pause when a mourning dove, the family's "bird totem," appeared in a tree overhead cooing its mournful sounds. When grandchildren who did not know the ancestors began to cry quietly, a nerve was struck. To all of us present on that January morning, the family members long departed still held silent vigils watching all of us still in human form. We are their continuity of life. 

 

Jo Mooy - February 2013