Transition to Inspiration

I have a friend, Sandy, who creates the most amazing lampwork glass beads. Truly each one contains has that spark of great beauty such as is found in nature. For years now the bookstore, where I work part time to supplement my book addiction, has sold Sandy’s one-of-a-kind jewelry. Over and over I’ve seen a piece sit unnoticed for a period of time and then one person comes along and tries it on, and each time it is astonishing how the piece seems custom made just for them. How does she do this? How does she create something so singular that it is apparent to me, a relative outsider, the perfection of it all?

I have witnessed this with poems that leave me cold, but shift the reality of person next to me so deeply that a whole life is changed forever.

In my home is a painting that grabbed my heart while browsing through booths at an expo, and every single day when I look at it, there is some reminder of who I am and who I hope to yet become.

Inspiration. When we are in the flow of our creative nature, we connect to something unifying and authentically belonging to the Great One. How could such inspiration help but find its target? Yes, sometimes it takes time, days, years and decades even. And sometimes that target is simply our own creative self.

Three years ago I began a major transition in my life. A check with an astrologer only confirmed what I already knew, that this would be a time of shifting and changing. When I saw a necklace Sandy had created, a new design she was working to perfect, I had to have it. The glass orange flower had a silver casing and stamped onto the back she put the single word, “Transition.”

I’ve worn that necklace almost exclusively until two days ago.

We had just moved our daughter to graduate school in Madrid and then in New York City we had settled our son into his dorm at NYU. Sitting at a diner on Madison Avenue the clasp of the chain I’d put the Transition bead onto broke and the bead fell off. I tucked it safely away in my purse.

The next day my husband gave me a gorgeous necklace created by Sandy as an anniversary gift, again a lovely bead, but this time a swirl of greens encased in a silver setting. On the back, she stamped “Inspiration.”

I wore it today while I conducted four hypnotherapy sessions and in each session, I found my hand at my neck, caressing the bead, and being reminded again that in each session there is indeed inspiration.

We are creators who bring change and inspiration to others. Whether that creation is a healthier physical body through hypnotherapy or a lovely glass bead, we are always creating. And this is one of the grandest things I know.

The Power of an Idea

“What’s the most resilient parasite? An Idea. A single idea from the human mind can build cities. An idea can transform the world and rewrite all the rules.”—Inception

Sometimes our ideas seem to get lost or mixed up inside of us. We know the kind of person we’d like to be—a thin, healthy, nonsmoking, confident, successful, outgoing person. But the reality we experience can be far different than that idea. The movie Inception has really inspired me, validated for me in a sense, the idea that we are living a created reality that originates from within our own minds. Learning to interpret first the symbolism in novels as a writer and English major, then within dreams and myths, has created a way of viewing my world as a waking dream.

All around are symbols. Some I notice and wonder about, but the more I work with dreams and with Past Life Regression, which also contains a symbolic dream-type language, I have come to accept that it is up to me what I notice, and what I notice forms my personal reality.

Research has shown that we are able capable of noticing a finite number of images at any given moment. In other words, if you are staring out at a beautiful lake, you will see the water, a boat, a water bird, but as soon as you attention is drawn to the way the light sparkles and reflects, you will no longer be as aware of the person standing beside you. Research also has shown that we notice first things we are familiar with and can easily recognize. Strange, unusual or unexpected images will be missed. I would not expect to see an elephant standing on the shore. And who is to say there is not one there just because I haven’t seen it? Until the idea is planted in my mind that I am recognizing a visual pattern that I’ve seen before, in a photo of an elephant perhaps, I will not be able to see it, or I will misidentify it as something I do expect to see—a large gray rock perhaps.

When we work with hypnotherapy, dreams and past life regressions, what we are doing is forming an understanding of the ideas within our own minds—where they come from and what they are actually telling us to do. An impulse to pick up a cigarette or eat a bowl of ice cream may well come from the part of our subconscious that has noticed that we never do anything nice for ourselves, but are always taking care of other people, and in order to be healthy, we need to relax a little bit. So when we get this urge to do something that consciously we believe isn’t very good for our health, we are really acting upon a deeper, stronger belief that “I am worth pampering and deserve to take a break, even if its only for the length of time it takes for a cigarette to burn out.”

And why would we want to do away with that idea or part of us that is actually looking out for our own mental health? We wouldn’t. Rather, we would like to redirect it. Using the tools of hypnotherapy, Parts Therapy, Regression Therapy and Integrated Imagery, we can uncover what that seeded message is, and then empower it to help us create ourselves as we know we can be, healthy, thin and trim, confident and successful.

I Had a Happy Childhood. Why Do I Feel This Way?

I have a client who tells me that she had a really boring, loving and normal childhood. Her family all supported her growing up. There was no abuse. They all had enough to meet their needs and not so much as to be bothered with issues of worthiness or entitlement. So why, she wondered, did she struggle?

There is more drama in past life memories of being burned at the stake and having that explain a shyness to expose talents, particularly related to using intuitive gifts. Those are the stories that really get our attention. For one thing, they are lots of fun. Sort of like choosing to watch an epic historical movie starring a gorgeous Hollywood movie star, rather than watch a stranger’s home videos of the kids running through the sprinkler in the backyard.

But in actuality, what triggers unwanted behaviors can have its origins in this life, in something mundane. One woman found herself anxious if she needed to make quick decisions.  In regression therapy, she discovered that at the age of two, she’d climbed up onto a dresser to look at a piece of her mother’s jewelry and had fallen off. That imprinted a notion that she needed to protect herself from her impulsive nature by forcing her to slow down.

There may be a past life where she acted impulsively and met with some horrible fate, and so when she fell off the dresser, that memory triggered this reaction. But it became enough for her to remember the incident from her childhood so that now when she begins to feel anxious, she can choose for herself whether or not that is a reasonable response, rather than feeling like the choice has been mysteriously made for her.

A novelist turned to regression therapy to better understand why she would fill up her writing time with coffee dates and appointments when she really wanted to work to instill in herself a solid writing schedule. In her regression, she returned to kindergarten, seeing vividly the colorful classroom, and the way the art area was tucked around a corner behind the bathroom and coat closet. She saw herself, with her oversized paint shirt on, lost in the inspiration of painting at the easel, a big brush in hand. The revelry of that free flowing creativity abruptly came to an end when the teacher scolded her for not joining the rest of the class for story time.  She’d not heard. She suffered the humility of being scolded and then having to clean up while the other children watched and giggled. From then on, she had been vigilant in guarding against getting so far drawn into her creativity that she might miss something important.

Now she knows she has tools to bring her back from her daydreams when the time is right. Neither the writer, nor the woman who rejected impulsive behavior suddenly became cured. They do, however, have new ways of thinking that can be reinforced by practice and a little bit of time. They have information to help them to feel empowered about their choices and behaviors.

Having a happy childhood is something to count as a blessing, but even in those idyllic settings, little incidents can set off troublesome behaviors. So whether it is a battle scene from the Civil War or a fight with your sister over who’s turn it is to flip off the bedroom light, Regression Therapy can lead to understanding our own behaviors and then deciding if they still work for us or not.

The Stage Hypnotist

In high school, my friend Angie’s brother was working to become a stage hypnotist. He asked her to invite a group over so he could practice. There were nine of us sitting semi-circle, hands in lap and nervous. While we were all good friends, this was high school, mind you, and so taking on the risk of looking stupid was asking a whole lot.

Jim, the hypnotist, explained what we could expect and then started to take us down into trance. I floated somewhere between allowing myself to enjoy how good it felt to let go, but not letting my guard down too much. After all, there were cute boys in the group.

Jim had us imagine ourselves getting younger. He brought us down to the time when we were just learning to write our names. Immediately, I could see in my mind’s eye the scrawled letters, C-i-n-d-y. I changed the spelling of my nickname in the 7^th grade and hadn’t thought of the old spelling in at least three years. Jim said he was going to come to each of us and have us write our names on a piece of paper.

I heard laughter after the first person completed writing his name. Dave, who always acted so tough, had written Davey and drawn a picture of a horse. That made Brad laugh and immediately I became fully conscious. No way I was going to do something like write my name and make Brad laugh at me.

Three years later in college, I attended one of Jim’s shows at the local nightclub. After a couple of drinks, and already knowing Jim and trusting him a little, I allowed myself to become one of the people selected to go up on stage. I understood all of his suggestions—to imagine being itchy, and to hear the next joke told as the funniest joke I’d ever heard before. I evaluated the suggestion and in a relaxed state allowed myself to play along. I still laugh when I think of the joke, mostly because it’s such a dumb joke. There were other suggestions, though, that I rejected as going too far. I don’t remember them, only that a part of my mind just said “No.”

A good stage hypnotist knows that he needs to find subjects who actually want to be on stage. No hypnotist can give anyone suggestions to do anything that don’t already have a willingness to do. If I really want to bark like a dog when I hear the number two, because somewhere in my mind, I know this will amuse people, make them laugh and make them happy, then I’ll accept that suggestion. If it would absolutely mortify me to put on such a public display, my subconscious mind will simply reject the whole idea.

When a client comes to me for suggestive hypnotherapy, it is important to give suggestions that won’t be rejected. That is why I take a very client-center approach. We talk for some time about what it is they are seeking to change, the motivations, the history of the problem, and then I use, if possible, the actual words the client has used in the suggestions given for change.

I could tell a client seeking help with reducing weight that they will see all food as distasteful and uninteresting, but who wants to live life like that? For most, that suggestion would be rejected. But to tell them that they now simply prefer the taste of water after they tell me how much they like a refreshing glass of clear water, means that the chance for success is much higher.

Ultimately, what hypnotherapy teaches is that we ourselves alone hold the power to say yes or to say no, and with that same magnificent power, we can change our lives.

Learning

In the past two weeks since my granddaughter, Jager, went home, I’ve been reclaiming my busy life. While she was here, it felt really important to clear my schedule and make her the center of the universe. I enjoyed every precious moment, but a small part of me felt panicky, as though one month away from friends and groups and events would somehow wipe the memory of me from the face of the earth.

This is an old energy pattern of mine, and one I’ve worked on diligently for the past two years to overcome. It’s the voice in my head that tells me my value is in volunteering for committees, showing up, reminding people that they need me because of how invaluable …fill in the blank…is my warm body, my hard work, my vast knowledge, my friendly manner, my donation.

Back then I found myself rushing around and having a great time, mind you. I do truly enjoy being busy and can get bored easily. I am a typical Gemini after all.  What I sacrificed, though, was the time to focus on just a couple of things and do them fully. The Universe conspired to bring this conundrum to my attention. I had dreams of driving too fast on slippery roads and losing control. I lost count of how many dream bridges I sped off of into the water.

As one who works with dreams and mostly pays attentions to the messages that flash through daily life, I heeded the message to slow down, but slowly. First I dropped one board position, then another. I whittled away at my life. “Is it enough?” I’d ask the Universe, and then get pulled over for speeding on a lonely country road just a mile from my home where no patrol car has been spotted in the ten years we’ve lived out here.

Being mindful that saying yes to something is never a case of simply devoting an hour or two, but rather, is a habit pattern stemming from a need to feel needed, makes it much easier now to say no. It is the worry that too much saying no leaves one alone that is the difficulty now. And so with Jager returning home, that switch within tripped and quickly the datebook filled with breakfasts, coffee meetings, and appointments. “I’m back,” shouted from the rooftops assured me that I’d not been forgotten.

I’ve noticed that by falling into this old pattern, it’s been more difficult to focus on the important things I need to do. I can see that I’ve slipped backwards, but it has only taken me two weeks to recognize it. Progress.

Working with my own past life memories to help me through the life lessons I’ve chosen for this life has enabled me to see these patterns. And it has empowered me to make changes. It does not guarantee that I will not repeat old patterns or make the same mistakes ever again as I evolve. That is part of being a spirit being having this human experience. I cleared my schedule to be Jager’s Granny. Now it is time to clear my schedule again to be Cynthia.

What will I call into my life next to test this theory of being valuable even if I’m not busy? Truly, life is so much more fun when we have the ability to observe it in action.

The Glasses on the Top of Your Head

Melissa is a busy mom. She is one of those people who just get things done while the rest of us are wondering if we should even try. In the raising of six children (two still at home), she has also returned to school to earn another degree, helped with innumerable community events and projects, coaches and counsels. Now she has also been working at taking care of herself, perhaps her toughest accomplishment yet.

Like many multitasking moms, Melissa is the sonar of the household. Her son asked her the other day if she’d seen his paycheck. “It’s on the desk, under a couple of envelopes on the right hand side, folded in half,” she said absentmindly. She herself was looking for her sunglasses so she could rush out for a walk. Finally, exasperated, she told her son to help her track them down. He led her to a mirror and showed her the glasses on the top of her head.

“How is it you can find something buried under a ton of stuff, but you can’t find your glasses?” he wanted to know.

Melissa’s story made me laugh when she told it to me, but it makes me think of what it is like to experience regression therapy. It is easy to see other’s issues, much easier than to see our own. Carl Jung described our negative complexes as the parts of ourselves that even passing acquaintances could readily identify, but we ourselves remain blind to until something happens to bring them to our attention. In remembering a past life, it is as though we are given a view to ourselves but with just enough distance, and spirit guidance, that now we can see what is right there on the top of our heads. The emotion is real and immediate, but also, it can be a very gentle way to come to an awareness of our negative and positive complexes. In a past life regression there is the opportunity to have the helpful memory, then also ask our spirit guides to help us best understand the meaning of these memories and how we can begin to work with them.

Many clients  tell me that they have been the ones always taking care of others. I still laugh at the Rosanne Barr joke from early in her carreer explaining her uncanny ability to find her husband’s lost socks because she has a uterus that is also a tracking devise. Of course, the reality is different in that many men also find themselves taking care of others at the expense of their own needs. There is nothing wrong with serving others. On the contrary, we are all here to serve one another in some capacity.  It is when that service gets in the way of self care and in the way of seeing what is right on the top of your head, that taking a little time out, checking in with your heart and mind can lead to fuller, happier life.

Ritual

We crave ritual. Where none exists or where long-practiced ritual has lost its meaning, we create new ones. For various reasons, I no longer attend church. Recently, I went to our local opera company’s production of Godspell. Watching the Last Supper scene reminded me of how much I miss the ritual of taking communion. I miss repeating along with others words and phrases that have been spoken for hundreds and thousands of years. Words are energy and certain liturgy spoken with powerful emotion feed us. Each time these words are spoken with an open heart they are freshly imbued with spirit power, just as when our ancient ancestors first spoke them.

I grew up Lutheran, but one of my dearest friends is Catholic. She inspired me to memorize the Hail Mary Prayer and when I say it something deep within feels calmer. The chanted Om, described as all sound, thus all words or The All, also brings a feeling a centeredness and connectedness.

I’ve added rituals to my daily life as a way of staying mindful of the God presence within each moment. Morning meditation is my ritual time to be quiet and centered, It is when I say my prayers, usually the kind Anne Lammot describes in her book Plan B: Oh please, oh please, oh please. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

These rituals, however, are personal and solitary. The opportunity to meditate with a group, to dance or to hold hands and pray has taken on fresh significance since leaving church.

Before my sessions with clients, particularly those who come to me for past life regressions, I follow a ritual. I smudge the space with sage and pray for protection and cleansing of old energy. Centering myself, I call for help from a higher source and ask that the higher powers of my clients come forward and be present. I imagine offering myself as a servant to the highest good of the one who comes seeking.

The ritual reminds me on a regular basis that what I do is spirit work and something to be approached with respect, awe and an open heart.

Tom Collins interviewed Joseph Campbell, one of the world’s leading authorities on mythology and asked him What role does ritual play in mythology?

“A ritual is the enactment of a myth. And through the enactment it brings to mind the implications of the life act that you are engaged in. Now, people ask me, what rituals can we have today? My answer is, what are you doing? What is important in your life? What is important, they say, is having dinner with their friends. That is a ritual.”

Jager’s Angel

Our granddaughter, Jager, is spending some time with us right now. She is six years old. For the first few nights, bedtime proved challenging because she’d be tired, homesick and not real crazy about the idea of sleeping alone in a strange bedroom. To help the situation, I read her Susan Ekberg’s picture book, Pink Stars and Angel Wings. In the book, little Kari learns that she has a special star, which becomes her guardian angel. Kari visits with her angel and in the morning when she wakes up thinking it all must have been a dream, she finds a feather on her pillow. Jager and I talked a lot about guardian angels, and how even when Mom and Dad or Papa and Granny are in another room sleeping, her angel is there with her.

The next day, Jager noticed a white feather I had tucked into the frame of a mirror and asked for it. “Maybe your angel gave it to me, so I could give it to you,” I suggested to her. A few days later, we had an outing to my friend Sandy Fynboh’s studio, Blue Sky Beads. There Jager found a good stick and Sandy created a fairy wand for Jager by wrapping the stick with ribbon and little jingle bells and beads. I know I have a good imagination, but everyone could feel a little sparkle when Jager would wave the wand around their head three times. She found it especially helpful to take the itch away from mosquito bites. In Minnesota that is magic indeed!

We tucked Jager’s special feather into the ribbon of her wand and it took on a whole new, beautiful cast.

Today, Jager asked if we could go back to Sandy’s and make a necklace with her feather. “But your feather is already a part of your wand,” I told her.

“Can I have one of your feathers?” she wanted to know. I told her no, they were special to me. “But you can ask your guardian angel for another one.”

Jager stood and went to the window and said in a commanding voice, “Angel, give me another feather.”

“Keep your eye on the ground, now,” I said.

Within two hours, Jager ran into the cottage to show me a lovely soft gray feather she’d found near the shore.

One more thing that makes me certain Jager has a very special angel indeed. I was chatting with my friend, Sylvia–a gifted psychic, two nights ago when I told her I needed to go because it was getting close to Jager’s bedtime. Sylvia messaged back that I should give Jager a hug from Auntie Sylvia and to tell her, “The stars twinkle in the sky every time she smiles.”  Then Sylvia added, “I don’t know why, but something told me to write that….”

A powerful guardian angel watches over this precious little girl.

Talent

I am not a cook. Yes, I did just spend almost two hours in the kitchen making Dilly Beans, Grandma Martin’s recipe; and I’ve never tasted a better guacamole than mine. Early in our marriage, I shared more of the cooking duties. With two young children to feed and not a lot of money, simple foods are not really that difficult. I excelled at opening a jar of spaghetti sauce, for example. And salads. Cutting vegetables into bite sizes, though a challenge, never exceeded my skill level.

Oh, there were the occasional anomalies.  Homemade chicken noodle soup, including homemade noodles is one I’m most proud of, and calzones, made using real yeast. Once we sold our business husband Keith had a little more time on his hands and his taste buds became more discerning, he took over complete control of the cooking. He is a genius at spices and sauces. Even the finest restaurants have not come close to comparing with his grilled steaks.

My father has admonished me in the past for not cooking for my family. Not so much out of some antifeminist belief, but more from his profound appreciation for the art of food preparation.

As time goes by, the little cooking knowledge I gained in junior high home economics class slips further from my reach. A couple of years ago, inspired by the newsletters that accompanied a box of CSA vegetables, I tried the recipe for ginger carrot soup. Now I’m a busy girl and that is usually a part of the problem, but I just couldn’t see the need for letting the soup cool down before putting it in the food processor. Keith’s sixth sense kicked in from somewhere in the basement and he came running upstairs just in time to see me blow the lid off the processor and cover myself in steamy soup. “I’m so sorry I left you alone in the kitchen,” he said handing me a towel.

I’ve always claimed that if I were given the opportunity to have household staff, but had to choose between a housekeeper, chef, or gardener, I’d take the chef. When I realized that Keith did all of the cooking, including lunch when we are both at home, I celebrated my good luck in getting such a fabulous cook.

When I was regressed to a past life as a housewife, my aversion to culinary tasks became understandable. I was being regressed by a classmate in my first training session for Integrated Imagery Therapy, and my guide was eager to see that I had something exciting to talk about. He kept asking me to move ahead five years to something important and I would see myself sitting in the kitchen. Ten years, still in the kitchen. The end of my life, still sitting in the kitchen.

In the Between Time, I was shown that the purpose of this memory came not in what I had done, but in what I had not done. I had lived my entire life as I had been expected and let many opportunities pass me by. My spirit guide said to me, “It is okay to begin something new by doing what is expected, but one should not live their whole life that way.” A whole lifetime to learn that lesson, but thankfully, I did learn it. I am certainly not doing what has been expected of me now. And though I’m sure I was a fabulous cook in that life, it was not a talent I needed to bring with me into this life.

Northshore in Minnesota

Several years ago I met Kat at a writing retreat in Cloquet, MN, entitled, Mindfulness and Writing. Part of the workshop was taught by a Buddhist priest (meditation) and part taught by a mystery writer. We would sit in meditation during the morning hours, and then write all afternoon.

It was mealtimes where I heard bits and pieces of Kat’s story, and like a magnet, felt pulled to sit near her. The writing instructor had asked us all to write short biographies before attending the weeklong workshop so she would better understand our goals. I overheard her telling the Buddhist priest that when she read Kat’s story, she thought she would be dealing with someone who was delusional. Kat has simply had an extraordinary life. One she has put a lot of effort into making extraordinary.

Her childhood was difficult, the daughter of stoic Norwegian parents. By 17, her ballet dreams were shattered with a diagnosis of MS. A college degree eluded her, but she still managed to own a floral shop. Eventually, she moved into the healthcare industry and worked her way to the top, literally. She became the first woman CEO of United Healthcare International in South Africa following the end of Apartheid.  When I met Kat, she had been retired a short time. She’d survived brain cancer, had near-death experiences, and had spent considerable time studying metaphysical subjects. She was the first woman I’d ever met who held a clear and commanding presence and yet, spoke of what, to me at the time, was still taboo. I felt so drawn to her.

Later, I would visit Kat at her beautiful home on the Northshore filled with museum quality artwork, much of it from South Africa, just to see what I might learn.

While my children scoured her beach for agates, Kat and I sat in her boathouse and she taught me to meditate. She held my hands and invited me to feel the energy. I imagined a current running through our hands clockwise and was astonished to actually feel it, going counter clockwise.

Mostly, what I have always felt from Kat is an incredible expansiveness and peace. She is like a star incarnate.

Years passed and besides Christmas cards, we lost touch. Then she joined Facebook and we reconnected. She has added a breast cancer battle to her experiences and is now cancer free. She also teaches a group of women once a month, talking about her spiritual journey and sharing what she’s learned over the thirty some years she has been studying with some of the finest teachers in the world, bringing her gifts to  those willing and open to learn and share their own experiences and thoughts.

Kat invited me to join them and do past life regressions this weekend.

In the past, the idea of speaking before a group of strangers would have had me reaching for my anxiety medication. Through grace and my work with past life regressions, there was none of that—not a glimmer. Of course, Kat’s home is the epitome of peace and tranquility. I spoke of my journey. Then I guided successively three of the women into past lives of their own. It was a great honor to journey with them.

This morning, before leaving, I had the privilege to sit on Kat’s beach and meditate. Her dogs, three Newfoundlands weighing collectively just under 600 pounds, sat with me on the great rocks. The water spoke and soothed. A few drops of rain felt cleansing.

Kat came down and we sat and talked. It felt so much like a gift of spirit.

Before I left, I looked for a rock to take home from the beach. Years before, Kat had given me a smooth stone from her shore and said, “The power that polished this rock lies within you.”  I reminded her of this, and she said, “Yes, water teaches us about the power of persistence.”

I found on her beach a flat rock with the perfect shape of a footprint raised on the top. For the past couple of years, as I’ve contemplated living a spiritual life both personally and professionally, I’ve encouraged myself by saying I would just take a little baby steps forward and see how it went. That way, I knew I wouldn’t scare myself. Those little baby steps have led me into a whole new world. This stone’s footprint is the size of a one-year old’s foot. Ahhh, Mother Earth speaks to me. “Well done,” I hear her say. I also found a rock shaped like a heart with a mark carved into the center. Kat held it and commented, “It looks like a check mark. You’ve set a goal and accomplished it.”

Indeed, being here with her, in a professional capacity and also as her student feels as though some unspoken goal set back when I first met her has somehow been fulfilled.

Should I meet another in the world like Kathy, I would consider myself twice blessed. She is a Bodhisattva.

Back in my own cottage on small Spider Lake, gratitude fills me still. This morning, I dreamed of whales, creatures that speak of remembering and awakening. I am altered. I am blessed.

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