To: K-list
Recieved: 2004/03/10 07:05
Subject: RE: [K-list] Hello
From: Rich
On 2004/03/10 07:05, Rich posted thus to the K-list:
Hi Forrest,
Welcome to the list. And an interesting account of synchronicity.
Speaking personally, I've found this to be something from when being
connected with spirit. On this list you may find it referred to as Goddess.
I consider it the wider (or higher) part of my self beyond the physical.
Some may see it as that which is connected to the super-conscious where all
things are connected. Perhaps it is just words and interpretations. It feels
better to be non-descript.
I came aware of this first when living in Australia some years back.
Somehow, I stumbled on a way to feel ('grasp') the root (between my legs)
and crown (top of head) chakra's and then let my gut speak up on my action.
It seemed to take out the ego want and mental conditioned responses and
actions to situations. I suppose in a way it was a form of grounding. I just
noticed this now.
I had no idea of its use but it put me into experience of some things that
might otherwise have been considered impossible. Once I lay witness to what
I considered at the time an amazing lightning storm. I've never seen
anything like it again. It was only by following this gut feeling (intuitive
guidance) that I happened to experience this. It brought me to the right
place at the right time. I had a gift of witnessing nature.
On another occasion I happened on a short-cut that saved me a bunch of time
travelling to work. I couldn't have known it was there but I just did
something which then I thought silly and went a way I would never imagined
of taking before.
Another experience of some months ago was when I was out shopping. I was in
a supermarket looking for some salad. I couldn't find it anywhere but then
just followed instinct and came across a bag of salad that someone had left
there. It was perfect!
I've been unable to determine.. A conundrum may be whether the universe is
in sync with the I or is the I in sync with the universe? Perhaps it is
irrelevant and they are the same at this position.
Hope you enjoy the list. Feel free to post more if you are inclined to.
Best wishes,
Richard
> -----Original Message-----
> From: K-list-bouncesATkundalini-gateway.org [mailto:K-list-
> bouncesATkundalini-gateway.org] On Behalf Of forrest curo
> Sent: Wednesday, March 10, 2004 12:26 PM
> To: K-listATkundalini-gateway.org
> Subject: [K-list] Hello
>
>
> **please remember to delete most of email you are responding to, before
> posting your comments to the list.**
>
>
> How to introduce me? I've just signed in, hoping this may be an occasion
> for waking up further. Waking up who? All of us/me, I do believe...
>
> A woman in a group at my last (Quaker) yearly meeting said my aura was a
> kind of blue, "periwinkle," she said. Which seems appropriate.
>
> I'm 59 years old, and that's a lot of life to put in one email. Here's
> "One
> of Many Beginnings" I wrote almost a year ago, for a class at Pendle Hill.
> (My wife and I went there after we had to sell our house, when our
> activist
> projects had exhausted us financially and emotionally and it was time to
> move the struggle to a new level...)
> --------------------------------
> In Berkeley, about 1967, I began to realize what had been
> happening to me for some time.
> The war against Vietnam had driven me to complete alienation from
> this nation and its government. I saw some hope in the hippie movement,
> but
> couldn't feel I entirely belonged in that because acid tended to bring out
> intense insecurity and fear in me, and even pot was sometimes
> illuminating,
> sometimes frightening.
> I had heard that a commune was recruiting members, preparing to
> leave Civilization for someplace less urban. Withdrawing from this
> civilization both appealed to me and worried me. I was doubtful how well I
> could adjust to Nature, as well as whether I could find enough to read
> outside a college town environment. And I was romantically lonesome-shy,
> horny, and yearning for an emotional intimacy that I was unlikely to find
> in the state of mind I was in. While I had friends I was quite fond of,
> that sexual impasse gave my life a tint of sorrow and futility,
> exacerbated
> by a lack of any context where I felt useful or even economically viable.
> Before going to the house where the commune was gathering, I
> stopped at Moe's Books for something to read. The only thing I found was a
> rather horrific book about a plague from space. I was prepared to devour
> this, as I habitually devoured almost anything in the way of science
> fiction, but when I arrived at the house and started smoking pot with the
> people there I became uncomfortable with it, as one more sign of how
> little
> I belonged with this group. They were sweet, serene, and sure of
> themselves, while I was uptight, awkward, and reading a story where much
> of
> humanity was falling into fear, violence, and yucky pestilence.
> They were playing this really weird, crazy music on their stereo.
> "Isn't this great?" the most beautiful young woman of the group asked me.
> It just sounded weird. I left in the morning, feeling like an utter
> failure
> as a hippie.
> But I'd been smoking a lot of pot, and listening quite intently
> to
> the lyrics, and some of it stuck with me. "Who would lamb, and who would
> lion-and who would be the tamer? And who would hear/ directions clear/
> from
> the Unnamed All-namer?"
> Wow? Was that possible? If that was what I wanted, could it
> happen?
> And there was that chanting at the end of the song: "May the
> long-time Sun shine on you, all Love surround you, and the pure Light
> within you guide your way on." Over and over in a rhythm that, like
> everything else about that music, seemed perfectly screwy, screwily
> perfect. That song: "A Very Cellular Song," and that album: "The Hangman's
> Beautiful Daughter," and the group who sang it-the Incredible String Band,
> became a powerful influence on my life over the next several years.
> The refrain, long before I came here, became The Pendle Hill
> Goodbye Song. A card on ____'s door here calls it "An old Quaker Song."
> And
> so I have long suspected it to be; it goes right to the essence of
> Quakerism. Our "Quaker Hymnal," gives the wrong tune, but it still credits
> Mike Heron (of the Incredible String Band) for the song.
> Now and then over those years, I would meet people with String
> Band albums and listen intently to their lyrics, particularly the Very
> Cellular Song. And whenever I did, whenever I would walk down the street
> with those words bouncing in my mind's ear, the hand of God would become
> more visible, would seem to reach deeper into my life than it had before.
> That process, of course, had started long before I heard the
> String Band, and never stopped. And between those periods of intensified
> recognition, there were many times I lost myself back again in the
> So-called Real World, sank into habits and fears and faithlessness. That
> process too recurs, even for brief moments at Pendle Hill. The alteration
> seems almost like breathing, like sleep and awakening, winter and
> summer-and yet it has a direction, toward greater, longer lasting periods
> of clarity. More and more, as I become accustomed to God's interventions,
> even in the low periods I remember Who is real.
> What is the difference, then? When I was moving the right way,
> open to possibility, in tune with the world (although this seemed only
> marginally a state I could achieve by my own efforts, or maintain longer
> than its designated time) I found that world magical. Events occurred in a
> meaningful way, connected by what Jung labeled 'synchronicity' rather than
> by bare mechanistic causation. I knew that God was no more present at
> these
> times than at any other, but these were the times I felt God was at work,
> manifesting the invisible order that holds this universe together.
> Could I give an example? Many examples. Could they be explained
> away as simple coincidence? I have considered them from this standpoint.
> But I am a mathematician; I am aware of the many pitfalls and fallacies
> that can enter into calculating probabilities, and some of these
> coincidences have been extremely unlikely. Was coincidence a possible
> explanation? Barely possible. Did I think these things had occurred by
> chance, then? No. I could barely imagine the mental contortions I would
> have needed to pretend these events were anything but meaningful.
> In June 1985, Anne & I started a small used bookstore in San
> Diego. As both of us are poets, and had been editing a local poetry
> newsletter, we were unusually interested in acquiring small press poetry,
> although we realized it would not be a major source of income. Naive and
> new to the business, we had bought the depleted inventory of a failed
> bookstore, and we desperately needed to acquire more interesting books.
> About this time, Professor Robert Jones at San Diego State wins a
> poetry prize, and as a result Wild Onions, a collection of his poetry, is
> published. We are still producing the newsletter, so I acquire a copy to
> review, where I read the poem about the death of a promising young
> colleague of his: "...I'm working well when your lady Michelle calls,
> hysterical. I go to my class. I don't know what else to do. I give a class
> on the composition of the poems of Jeffrey Miller and on the tiny life I
> shared with him. That's what I thought to do, driving blinded to school,
> but finally I give nothing. I enter, smile (the muscles of my face
> berserk); I say Read this and Write that and For next week and then no
> words come. They stare. I say you died. And they, beautiful and humane to
> the last one, each having already lost his Jeffrey, pack up their books
> and
> leave me with mine..."
> I write a favorable review, go to Robert Jones' reading, forget
> about it.
> I decide to look for books in the St. Vincent de Paul Thrift
> Store. Everybody knows that book scouts for Wahrenbrock's, a large and
> successful store that's been in business forever, routinely go through St.
> Vincent's stock before it reaches the shelf, removing everything of any
> commercial interest. I'm new; I don't know this. I examine shelves and
> shelves of trash, finding virtually nothing. And then, when I'm just about
> ready to give up I blunder upon a small poetry section, consisting of five
> works by Rod McKuen, in poor condition, plus one rather awkward-looking
> paperback-It looks like an imitation of a commercial paperback, simulated
> by Martians who don't know quite what a real paperback should look like.
> But I, the one book dealer in town who would conceivably do this, pick up
> the book and start reading poems. Wow! This guy is good! Jeffrey Miller?
> That name starts looking very familiar to me, and when I return home I of
> course make a dash for Wild Onions, and there he is.
> I call up Robert Jones: "Would you like another copy of your
> friend's book?" He doesn't know what I'm talking about. He'd known nothing
> about it when Miller's other friends (in Sonoma, I think) collected
> Miller's poems after his death, and published them. One copy out of this
> tiny press run had made its way to Southern California, to San Diego, been
> given away, was dumped in the last place anyone would think to look, to be
> picked up by the only book dealer in San Diego who would have recognized
> it, on its way to the one man who most needed to see it.
> Does this kind of thing establish the existence of God? Not to
> anyone who doesn't experience it. But I have met a great many others to
> whom such stories are a familiar part of their lives. Are they Quakers?
> Some are, some aren't. Some Quakers don't know what we're talking about.
> But people from a wide variety of religions and nonreligions live in this
> experience. For some unknown reason-perhaps only because of being
> credulous
> enough to be open to it--we have been given a glimpse of the true working
> of the world. A remarkable strange thing it is.
>
> Forrest Curo
> San Diego
>
>
>
DISCLAIMER!
Home | Archive Index | Search the archives | Subscribe
K. List FAQ | Kundalini FAQs | Signs and Symptoms | Awakening Experiences | K. list Polls | Member Essays | Meditations | List Topics | Art Gallery | Cybrary | Sitemap | Email the moderators.
symbol.