The Sound of Mars at Play

Find Him Playing in the Crashing Surf

Last week I wrote about Mars in Retrograde, drawing the conclusion that it's really the effect of "Mars on Holiday" that we're experiencing - the "absence" of Mars, in a way.

In December, I pondered Mars at Play, but didn't really have a good handle on what kind of experience that would be.

But as I was getting the low-down on Mars in Retrograde, I received an additional bit of illumination. I was listening to Psychologically Ultimate Seashore, a 60 minute recording of the surf, and I realized - "There he is! And he's PLAYING!"

Contemplating it for a moment, and feeling into it, I realized - the POWER in the crashing surf is rambunctious, carousing, adventurous, and COMPLETELY without conflict. It's actually basking and rolling and expressing itself in the gentle, loving, and life-affirming container that is the water.

So there he was, playing in the surf. Relaxing, laughing, enjoying himself. Restoring himself. 

Mars on Holiday.

Interestingly, I've been feeling the need recently to grab my wet suit and head up the coast to Linda Mar (Spanish for Cute Sea) to do some body surfing. The cold Pacific on my hands, feet, and face. The roiling waves. The crashing tumult in my ears. The taste of salt water. 

Sounds like it will get my blood pumping, and I'll feel invigorated and refreshed, without the least bit of conflict or stress.

"Ahhhhhh...!"

By the time night falls, I'll be ready for a deep, sound sleep.

Retrograde: Mars Takes a Holiday

Anger Erupts as Discipline Wanes

Last night I was doing some deep journey work and got a bit of a surprise. I wasn't thinking particularly about Mars, nor was I seeking guidance from him, but apparently, he had something to share.

I've written recently about Mars, and Mars at play. (I've still been contemplating Mars at play - I hadn't really discovered anything solid until last night. More on that in my next post.)

More topically, we've all been contemplating Mars in Retrograde. Mars went retrograde on January 24th, and will continue in retrograde until April 14th.

This astrological moment is described as very significant. I've read some information from a few sources, but the information hasn't really "met" me in a way I can use.

Here's what Mars taught me last night. It's a little different from what you'll find in the books.

Mars in retrograde is Mars on vacation, seeking restoration, relaxation, and play.

What does that mean for us? I perceive that when Mars is on vacation (or resting), that HIS warrior discipline is withdrawn from our lives. Which means that we must rely on our OWN warrior discipline.

Where and when (and how) does HIS warrior discipline affect us?

Imagine that there is a warrior song being sung by a virtuoso. It's always being sung, so whenever you need to hear it, it's there. Whenever you run close to the edge, nearly slipping out of warrior discipline, you can catch the strains of the song, consciously or unconsciously, and it can help you get back into trim.

That means we actually battle with each other LESS often, and work our internal battle more completely, when Mars is singing.

What happens when the song stops?

We see an eruption of undisciplined, destructive, testy, angry, aggressive behavior. That awful "remainder" I wrote about begins to foul the room, our auras, our relationships.

Mars helps us develop our warrior selves, and in so doing he helps us work through our weaknesses - our dishonesty and lack of discipline. What we don't work through, we tend to hide - from ourselves and others. 

When Mars is no longer there to help us be warriors, these tawdry characteristics suddenly spill forth, sometimes billowing, sometimes leaking, depending on how impeccable a warrior we have been.

A friend noted recently that she's seen (and her friends have also reported) an eruption of anger among their circles of friends, families, and acquaintances, starting a few days ago.

I perceive that it is precisely the result of Mars on Holiday.

Are you feeling more angry? A little less in control? A tad more helpless in the face of obstacles, and more inclined to rage against them?

In the Beginning, There Was the Signal

Science's Digital Chickens Come Home (err...to the Library) to Roost

For those of you who know me well, you've probably heard some of my metaphysical and "deep physics" ideas about the structure of the universe.

Here's one of my favorites: The true fundamental building block of the universe is Information.

When you peer down, deeply down, into the fundamentals of matter (and energy) you find…nothing. Nothing concrete, that is. Quantum physics - the most successful theory in the history of the science* - tells us that elementary particles are not particles at all. The "Copenhagen Interpretation" (Neils Bohr & company) states that "there is no deep reality" beyond the illusion of the particles and waves (and they are illusions). Pretty weird.

I have always felt that there was something amiss with the Copenhagen Interpretation ("Gee, really?").

I've pondered this gap for a number of years, starting early in my career in the network technology business. Back then, I learned about something called "Information Theory" - actually the theory of how information (and how much information) can be stored or carried using certain technologies. And one part of it (the Nyquist Rate, for those who care) caught my attention, and looped me back to this problem of deep reality.

I got this crazy notion that deep reality, that which was beyond the illusory "material" world, was actually information. A probability wave is not an object, but an aspect of design, a blueprint so-to-speak. A field is not a "thing", but an expression of an effect (perhaps, of an "intent").

When you dig down deeply enough, you go beyond matter and quantized energy into a domain of description, of information. Of design. From there, one might say that all the blueprints of the Universe are stored in that mysterious vault often called the Akashic Records. Physicists just might agree.

For you science folks who are still with me, here's a snip from Wikipedia:

The Akashic Records (akasha is a Sanskrit word meaning "sky", "space" or "aether") is a term used in theosophy (and Anthroposophy) to describe a compendium of mystical knowledge encoded in a non-physical plane of existence. These records are described as containing all knowledge of human experience and the history of the cosmos.

The other day I saw an article in the Februay 2012 issue of Scientific American.  Craig Hogan and a crew at FermiLab is digging around in just this domain.

From the article,

"Physicists have, over the past couple of decades, uncovered profound insights into how the universe stores information - even going so far as to suggest that information, not matter and energy, constitutes the most basic unit of existence."

Ahhh, that feels good! And from here, the first words of the Gospel according to John make a whole lot more sense.

*Quantum Theory has never failed to accurately predict an experimental result (even when the predictions are so screwy that the physicists dread to discover that the universe actually works that way...)

Feeling As Competently As I Think

Rodin's "The Kiss"

I've set for myself a worthy goal: To have as much awareness, confidence, competence, and refinement in my ability to feel as I have in my ability to think.

I will be working on this goal assiduously for however long it takes.

I've always been confident in my thinking skills and capacity. I love to think. I love to extend my knowledge, build bridges between concepts, and extrapolate into rarified cognitive air.

Thinking about thinking, too. Philosophy. Justice. Art. Compassion. Mysticism and science. Lots and lots of domains of intellectual exploration.

Detail - See the book in his
hand, not being read?

Recently, I realized that feeling - not "thinking about feeling" or "analyzing my feelings" was a treasure trove of growth. It helped me banish some encroaching depression. It helped me increase my cardiovascular capacity. It taps into an (apparently) infinite universe that I've really just begun to understand.

And there's an interesting difference, for me, between thinking and feeling. If I'm doing it right, feeling is effortless. Exertionless, even. And yet its harvest is extraordinary.

The down side is, of course, that I'm really a babe in the woods on this half of my consciousness, compared to the 50 years of intense focus on my thinking machinery. I may have a long road ahead of me.

The good news is that it's an amazingly rich and colorful, sensuous and sensory road. I can see that already.

What a cool journey.  Anybody want to join me?

(Anybody willing to help?)

Breathing through Resistance

Exploring Inner Sustainability - From Grand Schemes to Innermost Choices

I've know for a while that a major breakthrough is waiting for me through the mastery of breath. 

But there is resistance in me - in many dimensions, including resistance to mastering the breath, even though I know that my life will be better on the other side of it.

I think I've discovered how to break through that resistance. 

I examined the sources of the resistance, and I saw how the resistance was being reinforced. That was actually the more important element in the whole mix. 

Oddly, surprisingly (or...perhaps not?), it was reinforced by self-judgement. This self-judgement was non-verbal. It came in the forms of...Pressure. Disgust at failure. Anger at inadequacy. Not-enough-ness. 

Describing it with words is difficult.

What to do...? I felt my way into the resistance (and the judgement) and let it sit for a breath or two. Then I began to breathe into it and through it, and it began to break up and become smaller, lighter, less like dead weight. 

Here's the key: I did this in a way that was "sustainable". 

I didn't try to make it all go away at once. I didn't judge myself for going slowly and feeding myself along the way. 

It has become clear to me that a fundamental impediment to my progress is that I push too hard. Pushing too hard means that the push isn't sustainable. Apparently, that applies on every level, from grand schemes to the innermost choices. Posture. Breath. Right Action. Truth. 

I combined this realization with something I learned in yoga. Using the mind to push the body past its comfort zone into pain and exhaustion (and injury) leads to the body not trusting the mind to do the "self-sustaining" thing. And that, in turn, leads the body into resistance, which actually SLOWS progress. And resistance leads the mind into judgement. And judgement leads to stagnation. 

So, I woke up this morning and did just enough QiGong to make me feel good, at a pace that reinforced itself. I look forward to feeling that way again. 

Now that's sustainable.

The Buddha Whispered In My Ear

In the wee hours, while I was lying in bed, the Buddha whispered to me. He said, "The pain of holding on is worse than the pain of letting go."

The pain of holding on is the pain of attachment. It leads to disease and stagnation, resistance, and suffering. Ultimately, it kills you.

The pain of letting go is the pain of detachment. It leads to freedom. To healing. Ultimately, to rebirth (see the seminal case of Caterpillar v Butterfly).

I've been known to say to my clients, "There are two kinds of pain. The pain where healing is occurring, and the pain where healing is not occurring. Which kind would you prefer to feel?"

I know this to be true deep inside myself, and yet I cling. Purging remains a deep challenge.

Old habits, it seems, are hard to shake.

Why are there Two Wolves?

Cherokee Fable Points to Serious Design Flaw

I received a letter recently, from someone whom I care about. It was not a happy letter; it was quite critical of me. That's all I'll say about it, because, interestingly, it's not the content of the letter that bothers me.

I'm actually puzzling about my reaction to it. I don't feel hurt, particularly (OK, if I'm honest, I do feel a little hurt, although not that long ago I might have been devastated). 

No, rather I'm pondering why a constructive reaction is not my first impulse.

It's a simple thing. You get negative feedback. What do you do? Fire back a tightly-worded counter-attack? Sure seems like it would feel good. But what purpose would it serve?

Or, do you construct a delicately-worded response designed to soothe and engage with love and compassion?

Sounds like the later would be the better option.

So why does the former beckon?

I'm reminded of the old Cherokee story of the Grandfather who counsels his grandson about the two wolves fighting inside him - the "good wolf" and the "angry wolf". The grandson asks which one wins. Grandfather replies, "The one I feed."

It's a beautiful tale, and among many on the web, this version matches what I remember from my childhood.

But what I really want to know is - Why are there two wolves?

Seems like a bad design to me.