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  

Coming Home

Coming Home

The words "spiritual teacher" in the brochure caught my attention. He was the guest speaker at

a metaphysical center I attended in the late 1970's. When he walked into the conference room, I saw a gentle man with a round face and wavy shoulder length yellow hair. He'd come to talk about his book, "Coming Home - The Experience of Enlightenment in Spiritual Traditions." The title was scholarly, shedding light on his PhD background in Comparative Religion. His name was Lex Hixon.

At the end of his presentation, the audience rushed to meet him carrying their copies of the book "Coming Home" for him to sign. I watched from my seat as one after another shook hands with him, or engaged in brief conversation. As the swell of people diminished I got up to leave. But something stopped me. Turning around I went back towards him wondering, "Why are you doing this and what do you plan to say to him?" In fact, I had nothing to say, but when I stood in front of him, the words, "You are a friend of my soul" came tumbling out of my mouth. As I heard the strange words I thought to myself, "What are you saying to this stranger?"

He took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. The words I'd just said felt like they were taking form. He said, "I know those words. You too are a friend of my soul." Then he asked, "Would you come to my home in NYC tomorrow?" and I, without knowing this stranger, or what I was agreeing to said, "Yes." He gave me his home address in Riverdale overlooking the Hudson and told me to come at 9 a.m.

Continuing this strange meeting, and completely out of character, I told no one where I was going that Saturday morning. On the drive into NYC I kept asking myself, "Are you crazy - No one knows where you're going - You could be meeting an axe-murderer." Yet I kept going arriving at his high rise apartment off the Henry Hudson Parkway exactly at nine. He greeted me at the door in a Buddhist robe, asked me to remove my shoes, then ushered me into a very sparsely decorated Zen home. He then asked me if I knew why I was there. I said no, but was compelled to come. He asked me if I knew how to meditate. I said yes.

Next, he asked if I knew who Kali was. I didn't at the time. So he took me into another room where a large bronze Kali was sitting on a small table with incense, a candle and an altar cloth. There were no furnishings in that room other than a cushion in front of Kali. He asked me if I had a meditation shawl. I said no. He left the room, returning with a long white shawl with maroon borders. He placed it over my shoulders, lit the candle and incense, and told me to sit with Kali and come out when I felt ready. Then he left.

I sat with Kali for almost two hours. I studied her ferocious face and many arms. I meditated. I
thought about the surreal day I was spending. I meditated some more. Eventually the candle and incense burned down and my legs had grown numb so I got up and came out of the "Kali room." He was nowhere around. So I went into an adjoining room I concluded was his library as it was filled with books on every religious topic. He came in to find me holding a large book, The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna. He said, "Ah, you've found Sri Ramakrishna. You need that book and the Works of Vivekananda." He added, "You should also study The Way of Zen."

We talked a while into mid-afternoon. Then by some unspoken agreement it was time for me to go. I removed the shawl still around my shoulders, folded it, and handed it back to him. He said, "No, that shawl is now yours. I received it from a sage in India and now I give it to you. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna is also yours to keep." He walked me to the door, bowed to me and we said goodbye.

Though my time with him was only several hours long, he turned out to be one of the greatest catalysts on my journey on the esoteric path. Though when we met I had no idea who he was or how he would later influence me. You see, Lex Hixon was a mystic who immersed himself in the major religions of the world which he called "parallel sacred worlds." He was a disciple of Swami Nikhilananda of the Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center in NYC, a well known and respected Sufi master. As host of New York City's WBAI In The Spirit, he regularly interviewed the leading spiritual and religious teachers of the 20th century. This gentle unassuming man was also an artist, musician, scholar, and spiritual author.

His last words to me on that Saturday in New Jersey were, "Wherever you are, be at home!" Little did I know that I'd never see him again for Lex died at age 53. I still have the shawl he gave me, along with The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna and The Works of Vivekananda. I read The Way of Zen many times. Each time I fondly remembered that Saturday with Lex Hixon. 

Though I never saw him again, I knew our connection was real when, 35 years later, on a spiritual retreat, my teacher wanted me to memorize The Heart Sutra. He handed me three different translations and told me to choose one. When I got to page two of the translation I'd chosen tears welled up. It had been translated by none other than Lex Hixon. Lex was right when he told me, "Wherever you are, be at home!" In the briefest moment in time, he was the guide who directed me on the path of Coming Home!

                                                                                           Jo Mooy - August 2017  

WU WEI - The Art of Doing Nothing

The Art of Doing Nothing

"Sitting quietly. Doing nothing. Spring comes. And the grass grows by itself." This Haiku poem
by Matsuo Basho (1600's) floated into my inbox one morning after the US election. Sitting quietly and doing nothing was definitely not part of my game-plan that day. But, I tucked it away thinking if things "settled down" I'd revisit it at a later date.

Things didn't settle down! After the inauguration the country was more divided than ever before. Visible agitation and personal anguish were expressed everywhere. Some felt we were on a runaway train back to the dark ages. Friendships became irretrievably broken. Sadly in other cases, long term marriages or relationships ended because of election results. The very active "group-mind" behind the right and the left were at polar opposites. Neither side could agree on any topic.

After a few months sitting in this symbolically stretched-thin rubber band, I was at a loss on how to move forward. Then I remembered two spiritual teachers and the practices they taught me for when things seemed most bleak. The first was to be consciously aware of what you're doing and the second, reflect on what is actually transpiring behind the obvious appearances. So I took stock of my daily life. Being tied to the computer (which supports our many projects and seminars) was partly to blame. Bombarded by constant news flashes I was swallowed up with
anxiety just like everyone else. I had to do something pro-active. I clicked a few buttons and disabled the News Briefs, Facebook, and Twitter posts. Instantly my knee-jerk reactions to every breaking headline or post stopped. Ease entered the work-day. I focused on creative work instead of the chaotic news cycles with their inane talking-head commentaries.

Then, "Spring came and the grass began to grow by itself." I remembered the Haiku to "sit quietly and do nothing." What an indulgence that seemed. I looked up the concept of sitting quietly and doing nothing and found Wu Wei. It's one of the greatest principles in Taoism known as "action in non-action." That sounds like a contradiction but it's not. It's actually allowing our actions to happen effortlessly and finding that the actions are in fact, part of a greater flowing alignment. So I sat quietly, doing meditation practices, sending healing and blessing to governments around the world. A contented feeling washed over me that "the grass would grow by itself" or in other words, "All is well."

While I wasn't immune to the daily news, the practice of Wu Wei allowed the second spiritual
practice to form. I started looking behind what was actually transpiring and saw a bigger picture emerge. Reasoned individuals who had long been silent were mobilizing in support of their views. People who didn't care what was happening in the outer world, began to care again. They were marching, writing Congress, completing polls, contacting friends, attending Town Hall meetings, and some even taking the dramatic first step of running for public office. They were organizing into waves of action in a flowing alignment.

I'm much older now than the days when I too marched on Washington for various causes. Those marches in the 60's and 70's set in motion civil rights, the US withdrawal from Viet Nam, women's rights, Roe v. Wade and gay rights. The ones marching and lobbying today, along with those content with the status quo, will also see the results of their efforts playing out in the years to come. If actions are in alignment with a common purpose, and intended for the good of all, we'll experience the results of all their efforts.  It's happened before and it will again.  In fact, it's much like experiencing an exquisite cup of tea.

Why tea? Consider what transpires unseen and unknown behind a cup of tea. Things are happening behind the scenes.  It grows in the higher elevations of the earth. Tropical clouds
overhead create the rain that waters the tea bush. Human hands lovingly pick three or four perfect leaves from each stem, drying them for days before the crop goes to market. Auction houses buy the tea then ship it to the various countries to be purchased by brand or type by ordinary consumers.

Each cup of tea you enjoy contains an immense geological, geographical, political and social history. The visible and invisible efforts of the elements of earth, water, air, fire, and human hands create that exquisite cup. That's exactly what's happening in the external world. Our collective consciousness is affected by the activities of everyone who demonstrates for change. Some do it quietly on the internal world, seemingly doing nothing. Some do it fiercely in the outer world by marching, organizing, and lobbying. All put their desires into action, aligning with a purpose.

Wu Wei says there is "action in non-action." Whether we're active or not, the tea still grows. In time a delicious brew awaits us. Or as Julian of Norwich said, "All is well!"

                                                                                                 Jo Mooy - June 2017

THE BLUE RAY

The Blue Ray

I first learned about the Medicine Buddha when a Buddhist friend from California did a prayer meditation for my mother who was very ill. She said the Medicine Buddha is an enlightened
being known as the healer of physical and mental illness. He is depicted seated, wearing the three robes of a Buddhist monk, holding a blue-colored jar of medicine nectar in his left hand with the right hand resting on his right knee. He holds the stem of the Myrobalan plant which is considered an exceptional universal healing plant. A lapis lazuli blue aura surrounds him.

In the years that followed, my knowledge of the Medicine Buddha remained subtle and uninformed. But apparently that prayer she invoked for my mother was destined to sow seeds that would begin to emerge a few years later when my brother-in-law went to Nepal and brought me a beautiful Life of Buddha Thangka. It had all the aspects of Buddha, including the Medicine Buddha, painted on it. Soon after the painting was hung over our altar the Medicine Buddha began to make its presence known.

One morning in meditation two figures appeared on either side of the Medicine Buddha. The one on the left identified herself as the Bodhisattva Chandra, Goddess of the Moon. The one on the right identified herself as the Bodhisattva Surya, Goddess of the Sun. Both of them appeared in a sea of blue color. In the scene were shades of the most extraordinary clear blues with streams and pure rays of blue everywhere. I wrote down the meditation with plans to share it with our local women's circle, which I did in 2014.


Fast forward two years later. The local Buddhist Center invited the community to a Medicine Buddha Empowerment. An empowerment is like an initiation. It's a ceremonial ritual handed down in an unbroken lineage for thousands of years. It consists of prayers, blessings, a guided meditation, and an initiation into practices associated with a specific aspect of the Buddha.

Walking into the center my eyes fixed on a poster of the Medicine Buddha. Normally the Medicine Buddha, portrayed in blue, sits serenely alone. But this one was different. What caught my attention were the two deities on either side of the Buddha - the Goddess of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun. I recalled the meditation from several years earlier as the bell rang for the ceremony.

An empowerment is a very singular and purposeful experience. No two are alike. After a series of teachings and chants the meditation guiding the empowerment began. In the stillness, the visuals that were called in took over my being. I became immersed inside a Blue Ray of light. Blue filled every cell in my body. I had no consciousness of anything but The Blue Ray. I felt blue, saw blue, and experienced blue. There was a notable collapsing of the physical entity into this absorption by The Blue Ray. It was like experiencing blocks slowly falling away until nothing but a Blue Ray remained. In that state, I was submerged into a vast healing space that was timelessly held by the being known as the Medicine Buddha. I had become the Blue Ray.

Since the empowerment the effects of the Blue Ray continue. When needed for healing, it's
summoned as though it never left. A cold, accompanied by 2 weeks of coughing, caused the muscles around my ribs to become painfully inflamed so I decided to visit my local physician. On a scale of 1-10, the pain was a 10. Before going to the doctor I summoned the Medicine Buddha in meditation. An hour after meditation I went to the doctor. When asked the level of pain, I said a 6. The doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and an anti-inflammatory medication. By the time I got home the pain was a 2. I filled NO prescriptions. Over the course of 6 hours, a severe pain in the ribs that had been with me for two weeks, disappeared completely in the Blue Ray of healing.

Lama Tashi Namgyal said, "If one meditates on the Medicine Buddha, one will eventually attain enlightenment, but in the meantime one will experience an increase in healing powers both for oneself and others and a decrease in physical and mental illness and suffering." That is the force of the Medicine Buddha and the power of The Blue Ray!

                                                                                                 Jo Mooy - June 2016   

Making History

Starsoundings Journals

Making History

It was early January 2006.  Our house was empty, and without any furniture.  Friends said, "We need to bless your house.  When do you want to do it?"  I said, "The night of the full moon."  To prepare, I went to Walmart and bought eight folding chairs. On the full moon January 14th, eight friends, who would become close friends, sat on folding chairs around a cardboard box turned into a makeshift altar, burned incense and invoked blessings for the house.  It was the start of what became known as The Women's Meditation Circle.

They said, "Let's do it again on the February full moon."  We did. By March, the group of eight had doubled as word spread in the community.  Before the end of the year we were regularly seating forty women in the homes of members.  Soon, no home was large enough to hold the group.  It was time to find a permanent home.  In 2008, David Less, director of Rising Tide Spiritual Center heard about the work of our group and offered their center on Friday evenings for the Women's Meditations.  It became a mainstay at Rising Tide and has been our spiritual home ever since.

What's so special about the Women's Meditation Circle?  Why has it survived for ten years when other groups haven't?  I believe this is why.  Every circle is a rimmed container, but this one is uncommon. At its start the Women's Meditation Circle set a vision of raising human consciousness by raising our own.  With respect and integrity it reflects that vision to others.  It opens wide to all the women who come in the door. It's a place where strangers become friends and friends become family.

In their own words, women said: "I find love and acceptance every time I attend a gathering."  "It's a place where I learned  how to meditate." "It broadened my understanding of spirituality." "No matter how wretched my week has been, when I walk into that space I'm grounded and feel peace and contentment." "This circle and these women are my spiritual home." "It's my north star, constantly guiding me back home." These testimonials were borne out when The Women's Meditation Circle won Natural Awakenings "Nattie Award" as favorite meditation group for six years in a row.  The magazine retired the category in 2015.

Women from different religious backgrounds or spiritual disciplines find a neutral home here.  They, along with leaders of many spiritual centers in southwest Florida, are chosen to lead the twice-a- month meditations. Though their practices are varied they nourish the collective spirit. We've had Gong Meditations, Pipe Ceremonies and Balinese spirituality. The nights of Drumming, Connecting with Animal Totems,  and guided imagery meditations, pack the room as readily as those on Mindfulness or Honoring the Ancestors.

The work of The Women's Meditation Circle is not limited to just leading meditations.  Equinoxes and Solstices are celebrated on each seasonal change.  Children and men not only are invited to attend, but are active participants in the ceremonies with kids reading their messages of hope for a peaceful world.  We support charitable organizations through special collection efforts, like The Hope Project in India which helps the poor in Delhi and The Mayors Feed The Hungry Program of Sarasota and Manatee counties.

Ten years have passed since our simple beginning.  From eight women we've grown to well over five hundred now. On January 8th we will celebrate our Tenth Anniversary on the New Moon.  It's fitting that we do this on the New Moon for it symbolizes new beginnings. It's a time when we review the past and then set new goals for the future. Our vision remains the same but our vitality is enhanced by the many new women who come each Friday to the meditations. We cherish those who have been with us for ten years and we continue to hold the circle sacred embracing all who enter. 

Jo Mooy - January 2016 

In Unsung Service

In Unsung Service

They're mostly anonymous. Unknown even to each other. They range in age from thirty to ninety. They feel their names are unimportant. But the service they perform, when summoned by their coordinator, can change lives for the better. "They" are The Healers Network.

Their beginning seven years ago was unplanned but fortuitous. Many met while attending weekend healing seminars taught by Patricia Cockerill. With new-found knowledge and practical experiences learned about healing energy they said they wanted to use it to help family and friends who were suffering. Then the "ah-hah" moment occurred and The Healers Network was born. 

It started with 25 women who wanted to further pursue energy healing after taking a healing workshop together in 2008. In subsequent healing seminars taught by Patricia over the next four years the total grew to sixty-five women and men healers. At first their work revolved around local family members. Soon the word got out. Requests for healing came to Patricia through various sources - word of mouth, the Women's Meditation Circle, and social media. Before long the reach of the group spanned countries.

Patricia developed a simple but personal email identifying the first name, last initial and location of the person seeking help. The request also included a brief description of the illness or special request that friends or family had submitted on behalf of the person. Each day that Patricia got new names, an email was sent to the healers. Soon people were writing back with updates on their requests and with words of gratitude. Many times petitioners would relay a story of a remarkable healing. 

A baby girl in the Northeast needed a liver transplant. She would endure many operations in her first two years of life, all with severe complications. The prognosis was not good.  But the healers persevered, working on the infant they came to know as "Baby Jaxon." After two transplants and countless near death moments she's now a six year old in school. Another man was diagnosed with inoperable cancer.  Again, the healers set to work, knowing only this caveat with which Patricia ends each email: "May it be for their highest and best good."  His family recently reported he is cancer free. Not all requests have such outcomes. When a healing is not to be, the healers simply hold the space for ease and courage in transition.

The process though is not as important as the healers themselves. Their intentions then and now continue to be selfless. Each one brings a different discipline to the healing work. Some are Reiki Masters. Others are trained in Quantum Healing, EFT, or Healing Touch. A few simply hold space in prayer or meditation on behalf of the sick.

Most of them do their work silently without communicating with Patricia. But when they do it's always something important. The ninety-year old great-grandmother healer reflected that doing this work gives her a sense of purpose in life. It allows her to get up in the morning and sit quietly on behalf of those less fortunate than herself. Others are very intuitive. They write about  "seeing" a karmic incident or long-buried situation with the person they're working on. Sometimes a request is so poignant that one or more of the healers will write that they were compelled to work on the person for an extended period of time.  Without fail, one healer responds to every email request with the simple, "Healing love and Divine Light sent." 

The names that come in for healing fill a prayer box. It was named the "Reiki Box" symbolizing the familiar nature of energy healing. The names are left to accumulate in the box for six months. Then, in a very sacred ceremony where each name passes through the hands of a healer, they are burned on either the summer or winter solstice. The names are blessed, the intention remembered, and the small piece of paper released into the flames.  After the burning, the ashes are always collected.  Those ashes are later buried in another ceremony at a sacred site somewhere around the world.

The Healers Network is an unsung service. It is a service of passion and compassion. The heartfelt desires of those in need are never ignored.  The Healers Network hears the cries for help and responds daily. This work is that of selfless beings.  They are unknown and unsung heroes who wish no accolades. Their only desire is to help those who are suffering and in need.  Is there a greater passion than in service to others?

Jo Mooy - August 2015

 

Archangel Visits True Stories

Archangel Visits - True Stories

Several years ago I published an article on how to Host the Archangels in your homefor a visit.  The article gave "hosting instructions" on how to prepare yourself and your home.  It explained how to receive the angels for five days before sending them on to someone else.  While the article was fairly simple, I never expected it to have such an impact on so many people's lives and in so many countries.  Or for that matter, to learn that it continues to reach individuals who see the article on the internet.

When it first appeared in Spirit of Maat, I was deluged with requests from all over the world.  The idea of Hosting the Archangels seemed to personalize them, striking a chord with families and individuals from Nepal, Africa, India, Europe, the Middle East, Japan, Australia and North and South America.  After sending out the Hosting instructions, I asked each person to send me a report of their experiences with the Archangels.  My intention was to do a follow up article at some future date. 

As 2015 dawns, the world is facing regional wars, religious turmoil, food and water shortages, corporate greed, political gridlock, dramatic climate changes, and a global crisis of confidence.  The "future date" appears to be now!  So, here are some uplifting reports from those who hosted the archangels over the last several years.

Almost all the people were flabbergasted that they could actually invite theArchangels into their home.  A few questions or comments were quite humorous.  For example, Janet in the US said she only had a 2 bedroom home and no air mattress so didn't feel she could accommodate four of them at the same time.  Edna from the UK said her home was very small so wondered if she put them up in a local hotel.  A few asked, "What do they eat?"  Apparently this isn't such an odd question.  My mother, going through lymphoma treatment, grew thoughtful one day.  I saw her staring out the window.  Then she asked, "What do you think they eat in heaven?"

Yeghish, a young man in Lebanon thought a visit by the Archangels might help bring peace to his homeland. There was one remarkable story from Regine in Germany.  She reported feeling dizzy as though struck down when the archangels arrived. She took them to several churches in her city, lighting candles and praying for peace and forgiveness for what was done to the Jews in Germany.  She felt great power and presence with the angels.  Six months later Regine learned that a book she wrote called Angel Power Pictures - Healing of the Soul was published and a month after that, she had her first exhibition.  All of which she attributes to the visit of the  Archangels. 

Sasha from Florida reported a near death experience when the angels visited.  Her husband asked the archangels if they would go to work with him one day.  While he was on a ladder next to a power line the transformer blew up, sending him flying backwards in the air.  He was strapped to the safety line so managed to get to the ground.  Shaken up but alive, he fell to his knees and thanked the angels for their help knowing they had saved his life.

Mara in Ireland was living in a stone cottage desperately in need of many repairs.  She'd approached the landlord for three years to no avail.  So when the archangels came to her house, she asked them to help with the repairs.  After the angels left, her landlord arrived without her asking and repaired the cottage. 

But not all hostings were monumental events.  Adam wrote to tell me his familyneeded help with "everyday stuff."  He said when the archangels visited, his wife had a much easier time with their children.  Dinners were easier and the kids played while she cleaned.  Adam thought he needed to win the lottery to have all his problems solved.  Instead he had a great revelation.  He was driving by himself and heard a voice say that if someone else took care of his problems it would be like taking his own energy and capabilities away.  Adam felt he needed to simply buck up and take charge.  And he did.

The testimonials indicate that Hosting the Archangels has been an astounding journey.  Some enjoyed the experience so much they've hosted them more than once.  If in 2015 you find yourself in need of some angelic support, you might consider hosting them.  If you do, contact me at jomooy@gmail.com and I'll send you the particulars.  

Jo Mooy - January 2015 

Enlightened Beings

Enlightened Beings  

Recently, I was asked to participate in a study called "What Is An Enlightened Being?" As I reviewed the questions in the study I realized how much my opinions  on the topic have changed. Thirty years ago, without hesitation, I would have answered that an enlightened being is a Bodhisattva, one who has reached the ultimate state of purity yet delays that passage in order to alleviate the suffering of humanity. But now, many years and many miles on the journey, I answered the questions quite differently.

Everyone on the spiritual journey aspires to become "enlightened" some day. It seems to always be "the goal." For surely, if we achieve enlightenment it will change everything about ourselves and about the world we live in. Once we start walking the path of a spiritually attuned life, we attend classes and seminars that satisfy our need to become "enlightened." We read books devoted to mysticism; we learn about the value of meditation; and we practice diligently. The esoteric teachings support us by saying that if we do those things and apply ourselves to the noble path, we too can become a Bodhisattva - or at the very least an Arhat. Teachers say it could happen instantly (rare) or it could happen after several thousand incarnations (much more likely.)

As I explored the questions posed in the study I focused on my personal journey. I'd followed a spiritual path for more than 40 years. In that time I studied with some very well-known and some not so well-known mystical teachers. The not so well-known teachers had as much influence (sometimes more so) in my development as some of the very well-known ones. A not so well-known teacher told me what I'd be doing with my life at ages 40, 50, 60 and 70. She was right for the first three decades. (I haven't reached the last one yet.)  So, I wondered, was she enlightened? Or, did she plant a seed that caused me to do what she said in the time-frame she'd indicated. This much I know!  She kindled a blaze a long time ago that allowed me seek the answers that I was now trying to decipher about enlightened beings.

Some self-realized masters said they were enlightened. There's probably little disagreement that Buddha, Paramahansa Yogananda, and Jesus were enlightened beings. But what if I toss in a few others that might alter your belief systems. Does Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great, Einstein, Darwin, Saladin, DaVinci, Gandhi, Akbar the Great, Nikola Tesla, Mao Zedong, and King Darius of Persia to name a few, qualify? They were warriors and conquerors, scientists and peacemakers, but should they be considered enlightened beings? I now think so because they had purpose, conviction, and a focus on their life's goal. And, they had a global impact on their fellow humans.

But what about normal people who don't have a global impact? I realized my current beliefs had changed and those changes caused these questions to rise to the top. Is anyone I know enlightened? Or, is everyone I know enlightened? I shelved the first one after a few hours of review. But the second question stayed, creating even more questions. Why wouldn't everyone be enlightened? After all, each person is a spark of the pure 'ultimate reality' we refer to as "God." If "It" is the ultimate in enlightenment then each of us must also be enlightened. Except in the vastness of consciousness, each of us is in differing states of realizing it. Therefore, I concluded, everyone is enlightened to varying degrees.  And that enlightenment affects the whole.

So, "What is an enlightened being?" When I got to the summary question on the survey I answered it this way. Today, I believe an "enlightened being" is one who lives a conscious life daily. These individuals have great awareness of their fellow humans. They are conscious of their words and actions and how it affects those fellow humans.  They are conscious of the food they eat and how it affects their spirit and their bodies. They are conscious of the individuals they associate with and wisely choose to be among those who uplift their spirits.  They make daily time for meditation and reflection.  They are more in tune with silence and nature.  And they choose to walk their path with ethical dignity and perseverance.

These individuals, no matter how great or small their circle of influence, travel their chosen path with focused consciousness and full awareness. They are "beings of enlightenment" who live a conscious, purpose-driven life. They hold a brilliant beacon of light that illumines the way for all of us who are also walking up to the top of mountain. To them we are indebted.    

Jo Mooy - June 2014

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   

2013 - Now What?

2013 - Now What? 

   

It's January 2013. Millions of apocalyptic entries on Google said the world would end in December of 2012. It didn't happen. I never thought anything catastrophic would occur. Geological changes move at a glacial pace and the end of the Mayan calendar wasn't going to alter that fact. Changes in human consciousness though can come about more frequently. So hedging my bets, I prepared for whatever was going to happen.

I spent most of 2012 reviewing the teachings of the great enlightened souls I'd encountered over the past forty years. Looking for new insights, I re-read some of their most inspirational books. I took several months off for international travel. I went to the Middle East on a peace pilgrimage. There, amid centuries old hatreds between the three major religions on earth and the politics stifling easy discourse, an elderly Rabbi passionately assured me that peace would prevail on earth if there was peace in Jerusalem. I believed him. During a month long visit to India I was uplifted by the people and the spiritual depth of this ancient culture. Inbred into the fabric of their daily lives, it flourished in their beliefs and behavior. Yet, I was stunned at the country's gross ambivalence towards poverty, clean water, and the lack of sanitation.

After all of that it was ten days in solitude in the swamps of southeastern Georgia, that gave me the answers I was looking for. It was the most intense retreat I've ever gone to. The facilities were Spartan. Attendees pledged to a vow of silence, two vegetarian meals per day, not to kill any sentient being, not to steal, and promised not to leave the program before it was over. At 4 am every day a gong woke us for meditation. Other than the two meal breaks and an hour for meetings with the instructor, we sat in meditation twelve hours a day. Lights were turned off at 9 pm. On day four and day six I was ready to leave. But having surrendered all my electronics and the car keys upon arrival, not to mention I'd taken a vow, I determined to stick it out.

 

This requirement is a wise move on the part of the program. Staying is the best decision. In those ten extraordinary days I learned deep meditation techniques. I mastered the meaning of following the breath for countless hours. I grasped how talking takes one out of the inner world of contemplation. I saw how much mental and physical deprivation I could endure. I realized I could sit for hours without moving. I could even sit next to a scorpion watching dispassionately without flinching.

The most exceptional lesson I brought back from this retreat was an instinctual understanding that change is the nature of all existence. It is the constancy in our existence. It is inherent in our lives. It is in everything we do, and in every situation we encounter. Nothing is permanent in this universe. All things are coming into existence or going out of existence. Everything is birthing and dying, arising and falling, always changing. When that realization sunk in on day seven, it shattered my habitual ways of seeing the world.

 

Concepts of good and bad, who was right or wrong, disappeared. Thoughts, whether the casual monkey-mind thoughts or intense creative thoughts, come and go. Beliefs and perceptions lessen their grip in the awareness that all that we view as "real" is rising and falling. The transitory nature of the situations and dramas we create in our lives could be governed with the knowing that "this too shall pass." Applying that lesson to Israel, to India, to 2012 and now 2013 made all of those beliefs and experiences, understandable and easier to deal with. It also started the next leg of the journey. Now What?

It's a huge question post-2012. Many are asking the same thing. For me, after forty years of studies, seminars, and training, I ask, Now What? After trekking all over the world, Now What? After absorbing esoteric teachings from countless mystical paths, Now What? If everything is transient how do you live your life? Toss it all overboard or live with conscious purpose? 

   

The "What" turned out to be fairly easy. It's easier to live in happiness than in sadness, and if it's all arising and falling anyway, why not choose happiness. I heard the Dalai Lama speak about kindness a few years ago. He said, "This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples. No need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is the temple. The philosophy is kindness and compassion." He also said it's easier to sleep with that type of inner peace. So with the Dalai Lama's words echoing I choose to live with that purpose. To be kind and loving; to live with joy; to live with purpose; to live with conscience; and to remember, this too shall pass.  

And while I'm at it, continue daily meditation, do Yoga and eat more broccoli. That's Now What!   

Jo Mooy - January 2013