Last night in Delphi was so magic that we decided to tell the nice Greek that runs the hotel with the slightly oily grace of the well seasoned tourism workers that we will be staying for another day. It was a night full of strange dreams and happenings, catalized by the formidable energy of this place: one almost wants to sit for hours or sleep, in order to take maximum advantage of the pouring stream of downloads, from intuition and inspiration to information and sensation.
Anyway, we did not take the offer of taking the bikes to the site and we started, valiantly, on foot. After the all you can eat breakfast and checking the 24 hours coffee statement (at 6 am, descending to get a cup for my dream companion, the reception clerk, barely awake, told me that it was too early for 24 hours). The lack was, anyway, compensated by the generous offer – a bottle of cold water for each of us – to accompany us on the way to the Site.
Delphi, off season, is delicious. Fit for a honeymoon, with sleepy stores, containing all sorts of stuff for tourists, that final apathy, melancholic restaurants enjoying every client.
We pass a lot of oleanders in bloom, on the impeccably done road (I have just realized it’s been 15 years since I last came here, and a lot changed) and a fig tree about to yield its ripe fruit. A., of course, is picking whatever she can reach among the darg green leaves, oozing the end of summer feel.
The entrance and the museum are handbook perfect, superb. We get tickets for the site and museum, and enter that Disneyland trip that takes you into the dark, soft night of Pythia’s Earth, then to the Sun of Apollo and to our date with the Gods, in the upper stadium.
There are some groups, but not very many, and that gives us time to dangle our feet by the rock of the priestesses that once foretold the future, meditate by the altar of Apollo’s temple, watch the numerous “banks”, well, well, are we having some treasuries here or what…. But, mostly, smell the nectar that flows from the top. To my disappointment, the stadium is now separated with a thick rope, one cannot sit in the middle anymore, as I did last time, in the middle of the pouring streams of Light. They have banned the acces, and that comes with another set of stupid museum rules, such as ” no taking photos of people with statues”. I don’t get it.
So we cross over the rope line, take a few steps to see the nearby caves. I. is going on his own quest while we open the mini altar to meditate. There is a sense of silent power to this place. When the family gets reunited, going back on the tourist path, I do my usual thing> looking around, I stumble and my left knee takes a good hit. Ripped white pants, blood flowing. The connection opens immediately. Previous such accidents: going up to Ephesus, in the middle of Champs Elyees and near a 14th century Saxon church, in the heart of Romania. Hmmmm.
Yes, it is a special place indeed. Limestone, stromatolites, phosphates, and for the icing, a fault. I leave the conclusions to the experts. Geologists are talking about cryptocrystalline poles. For the untrained ones, there is a great synonym to all this: MAGIC. Strange things happen in Delphi. We are being followed by extremely friendly cats… Of course, all attracted by I.’s “magnet”. What happens next is always the same scenario. Purring and carressing and claws digging into the fine weaving of the handmade shirt bought in Bran, that traveled to Bucharest, Vancouver, the Amazon and here, before it will return to its source.
Another weird thing is the sudden meeting, in the middle of the amphitheater, with a friend that took part in our in Bucharest. An extremely improbable connection: he is on his way back home, we are in the middle of our explorer’s trip. Time for some bear hugs and a lot of wonder around this meeting here.
Stopping for the well chilled rooms of the museum, we enjoy with the winged Sphinx and old, old portraits of the first inhabitants of these miraculous lands. Old symbols are to be found all around us and it seems like those ancient stones, excavated at the beginning of the previous century after relocating the entire community that lived there, are distinctly singing. There is a deep, persistent, harmonious buzz and it is definitely not any kind of high blood pressure sound.
DupSfter all that energy and culture, we deserve a frozen lemonade on the terrace. Poor sick thin cats beg for a bit of food. A little one is barely walking, exhausted and hungry. It will be a miracle if he makes it. The mother is so thin that the spine is visible and she is waiting for a morsel from tourists to convert it into the so needed milk. I do not know why, but the animals’ suffering torments me so much more than the human ones. Because humans can ask for help and they can receive it. Anymals only know how to give you that heart tearing look.
Sensations fade as we take the road back to the hotel, with a compulsory stop in one of the few open restaurants. Greek food, delicious lemonade and desert on the house… what else can you ask for?
Well, you can. Because the show is part of the price you pay here, we enjoy the scene made by a Greek woman, a bit over ripe, guiding three Americans. Her hormones are jumping all around, it is visible from the distance. But the plan is overturned by A., who does what she usually does: her swinging steps, her stunning look and the black abyss that opens under her long lashes makes the Americans twist their necks and follow her. “Dad” enters the protection mode, and the invisible cloak , well armored, surrounds us and gives the Greek cougar the second chance for a crazy foursome afternoon.
Less crazy, we fall in bed for an hour of recoup, but after that the rummaging fever la fethat makes us want to see, feel, absorb more, takes us on a spectacular curvy road, down, to the sea. The Gulf of Corinth is almost isolated from the sea, and the lack of currents is visible. The sea is pale and dirty, our swim suits prove to be useless, and the only thing we can do is to take a walk in the open air market of the village on the shore, resulting in some slippers and Turkish delight, before returning to the base camp for a dinner with a view, stories around a bottle of wine. The sea, seens from miles away, beyond the olive tree orchards at the foothills of Parnassus,looks like a magic promise.
Author Archives: pisicka
Angels in Monastiraki
Early morning after the first day of driving into Greece. Sparkling sunny air, infused with the smell of the sea. We decided to postpone the drive to Athens until after a serious swim in the sea, so we perform a cat-like stretch and bump into our Romanian neighbor, tormented by serious back pain.
So our morning actually starts with a four handed therapy session that leaves the lady more than happy . Nothing happens by chance, it seems that landing here in the middle of the night, groping through the Greek darkness to reach a random hotel, led us to doing whatever there was to be done. It seems that this trip is more of a business trip than a vacation. Little did we know….
Wearing our swim suits, we effectively float down to the neat breakfast, prepared by the Greek guy that works all day. Giving in to the local yogurt, creamy like no other, and THOSE olives…. Yes. Olives, yogurt and oil, nothing else needed.
Heading to the beach on the well groomed boardwalk belonging to the tiny clean and neat hotel, we manage to avoid drowning into the fine sand before reaching the lounge chairs offered for free and another. So nice we do not have to breathe anyone’s cigarette smoke, not to mention that almost no one smokes here. Most of the guests are French and German . Everything is sparkling clean, the small pool is impeccable, the Greek sweeps, scrubs, sets everything in order after finishing the breakfast buffet preparations.
The Aegean Sea is blue and clear, smooth and salty, warm, in spite of the early hours. So we float and swim for a long time, with our eyes on the Olympus, visible for the first time in weeks, as our colleague tells us, chatting with the newly revitalized neigbor. The Germans and Dutch must have landed in Thessaloniki, for this little airport is full of charter flights during the summer. Typically quiet families, with or without children, and if there are children one cannot notice the typical yelling, screaming and repremending the families perform at our seaside. We enjoy that Time-NoTime for another dive, sleepy and slow, into the majestic energy of this place that brings you back into Harmony, dominated by the great mountain and soothed by the sea. And this continues until the first nasty jellyfish shows up. I suddenly understand the meaning of the hundreds of colored nets, magnified versions of the aquarium nets, one can see in every tiny beachware kiosk. There must be some serious fishing here :). So we grab our stuff, nicely pay the same Greek who takes care of the reception desk, as well, stay a bit longer to enjoy the terrace wi-fi, solve the work stuff and after that it is time to get back in our car, lady-like. The license plate, Romanian, translates as DREAM. And we head straight into the hottest day of the month in Athens. 39 Celsius, almost september….
The Opel 4 x 4, bearing proudly the nickname of The Little One, shows obvious signs of no air conditioning. What a coincidence. Last evening it was working perfectly, so losing freon is the first hypothesis we exclude. That is unless the Aegean SEa sharks come to the shore after midnight to bite cooling agent tanks. We hae to live with the idea we will drive having the windows down… should be nice on the highway… music would be redundant…. and hair blown by the wind, like fairies.
The road to Athens, almost entirely highway, is incredible. We wind through spectacular mountains, admire the Greeks, working like ants to finish a missing segment of the highway… and pay a ton of road taxes. Summing up to more than 30 euro. Passing by huge rocks in delicate balance, old forts, no time to stop, the heart races saying quicker, quicker, and by fields impregnated with a slightly suspect smell… is it organic agriculture??
The bright pink lipstick and Cleopatra eyes of the driver produce the first victim. A gentleman driving a nice silver Audi is passing us, then slowing, getting behind us, and when we stop at a gas station for refueling, he pulls over next to us to report. the rack in the back of the car, the shirts are nicely ironed. He is obviously on a business trip. But tomorrow evening he is free, and A. gets a phone number and a really polite invite. Should she call, he would be really happy. Two sodas came as a polite offering, as well, and we can but thank him and proceed. Another stop, in the heat of the day, in one of those beautiful, air-conditioned expensive places on the side of the higway, supplies a little bit of breathing and a Cafe Frappe like no other. Greeks know their business.
Our GPS with a male voice, freshly baptized on the road to Thessaloniki with the glorious name of Gitsa drives us into Athens with only one failure – the maps are not updated and we get into a wrong way. Here we are, into the heart of the city, next to Monastiraki (Thanks, Free Spirit Travel, for inspiration and reservation) and park on the free spot that seems to have been waiting for us, to check in quickly and touch again the old stones of Plaka, the charming old neighborhood of Athens.
Waiting for a friend that I seem to meet only during trips, in the country and outside, we get back into the heat, from the chill of the air-conditioned rooms. The schorching afternoon of the end of August lets us drift, with water bottles in our hands through the labyrinth of medieval tiny streets. Athens is heartbreaking after the crisis. The number of deserted stores is overwhelming. My previous memory of the area hits a dismaying present time, but MOnastriraki is as alive as it always was. With singers, acrobats, jugglers and lights, African drums…
Stopping at a Henna tattoo maker, we teach him the first Angelic symbols of his life and he correctly paints them, then A. falls in love with an intricate opal elbow braceet and the matching necklace, made of twisted silver wire. I used to be magnetically attracted to such things and now I am totally detached. The stores ooze the same melange of scents, sounds and colors, nicely sparkling. Stopping for a real Greek salad – I do not know how or why, but the real Greek salad is to be found only where Greeks make it – we enjoy the Feta cheese… the strong taste olive oil… the organo and the crunchy vegetables. There is this je ene sais quois that is matched only by Ouzo, and here we are, jumping into a metro that takes much longer than we were originally thinking, and we get to meet I., who lands, coming from the other side of the Earth.
The metro is packed with old people, giving us odd looks and making us use the ouzo encouragement for showing these guys a lipstick lesson. The chairs next to us suddenly empty 🙂 and we land, about 10 mins late, in the airport, to collect a worried I. who had no roaming service on his Romanian phone. Things float back into normal, like nothing happened and the summer months were just a pause between an outbreath and an inbreath. A short, insignificant pause.
And the story goes on. Wonders are just starting. On the hotel terrace, in the velvet August night, eyes on the Acropolis – the Higher City – love and joy are flowing. We are back on track.
The Giant unearthed in Romania
February 2012: a Romanian-Canadian geologists team is tracking the remnants of the gold vein in one of the 5500 years old galleries in Rosia MOntana made an accidental discovery that could re-write the entire history of the human kind. At the end of the gallery they discovered the rectangular end of a slab that did not look like natural rock. After taking samples, the lab tests showed that it was a composite stone indeed, made of 15% granite dust, 30% wolfram and 55% gold powder, 50 carats, made with a technology that cannot be duplicated under the current scientific knowledge.
THE HYPERBOREAN
The fact is even more surprising considering that the gallery where the slab was found, also called the Hiperborean Gallery, on the Cornei Valley, under the Cornea Village in Rosia MOntana, had been surveyed before, 36 years ago to be precise, all along the year of 1976 and, due to the astonishing archaeological and antropological findings, unacceptable under the communist regime, was closed and subsequently sealed by order of the Romanian secret police. Some of the miners still whisper about the gallery and there are many ones that have dads or older brothers, formerly miners in Rosia MOntana, who took part in the diggings and reinforcement of the gallery. Most of them are dead now, because of occupational diseases. The four witnesses still alive do not want to recall the events, but one of them, Ion Mois, former head of team, thought a lot about it and decided to break the silence. Here is what happened then, according this eyewitness:
„Here it is: in the winter of ’ 76, the engineer in chief called me and I got the task of reopening, consolidating and install the electricity wiring in the old gallery 13, that stayed sealed since the Austro Hungarians.
After that, two comrade geologists were supposed to come and prospect the place. The gallery was old, unexplored since the time of Agathyrsi, who then extracted and processed gold and silver for the Dacians, and the vein had been wron out many centuries before Romans took hold of the gold mines, or Alburnus Maior as they liked to call it. It is true, there are signs of prospecting from Romans, but it is clear that they quickly understood and abandoned it. The consolidation and electrifying took almost until the summer of 76 and we had some trouble pumping the water from a flooded part of the gallery. Both the valves in the mine and the electrovalves did not help. It is also then that we found a bone, washed by water, so big we had never seen before. Neither myself, nor my mates had seen such a thing, After showing it to the mine director, he gave it to the secret police representative in the Rosia MOntana mining company. The prosecutor questioned us for four days, asking where the bone was, when did we find it, what position was it in, who was with us in the mine and who knew about its existence, how many of us entered and exited the shift that day. Well, all sorts of puzzling questions to scare us and make us quiet. Obviously, we all said no word and after signing the statements they sent us back to the gallery. I did not utter a word back home, I was scared for my loved ones.
When the job was done, two people from Bucharest eneteed the mine. One of them was a geologist for sure. What they worked in there I do not know, but about a week later a very young one came, a with a scar next to his left eye, saying he was an archaeologist. Two days after that an entire civilian team came, but also some archaeologists with some weird equipment, and a Police squad. They blocked access in Gallery 13 and started checking our employee badges at the gate. About another month and a half later, myself and my mates were called again – the ones that had worked on consolidating the gallery and had signed the statements, to carry the sterile from the bottom of gallery 13 and take it out in the mine rail cars.
Then I saw the horror. The archaeologists had dug from the stone a huge skeleton, about 10 m long, which lay on a side, with the feet in foetal position. The bone I had found was tied with a red ribbon and only then I saw it was a vertebra. Good God, what a vertebra! The civilians were buzzing around, some took notes of what the archaeologists were saying, others took photos with flash. They mentioned a guy, Densusianu, and something about hyperboreans. Another one, the young archaeologist, said that it was a hyperborean skeleton and that it could be our very ancestor. “No way, comrade! What hyperborean are you dreaming of? ” yelled a fat one in leather coat, with a heavy Russian accent. “Man comes from the ape! Where did you see a 10 meters tall ape? Drop it, this skeleton leaves to Moscow!…. take this retrograde from here. Bistro, bistro!” Then we were all terrified. Two big guys jumped him, tied him and dragged him out of the mine. „Come on, wrap, pack and all the crates go to the station! If anyone says another word I will drop the KGB onto your backs ! ” We were the one to bear with the packing and carrying.
Dawn broke when we finished packing, carrying the crates and putting them into the train. But we were not allowed to go home. We were pushed in two windowless vans and took us somewhere. Where? I do not know… Fact is we were beaten for a week and made sign a paper that we saw nothing and know nothing, that I have an uncle that is a bandit that shoots the secret police members in the mountains, and they told me if I said a word, they would arres my wife and children and put me in jail. I signed and I said nothing, what was I to do? I did not ever talk about this, not even with my mates that I met again at the mine.
But after this something good happened. A week after returning to the mine, the one that was tailing me came to me when I went out from my shift and sat down at the pub with me. When I saw him I froze. „Look, Ion, he told me, I come from the same county. I was there when the giant’s skeleton was found. Now it is in Moscow. Myself, like you, witnessed that. Take this envelope and guard it with your life. The picture is inside. I am telling you : there, in the gallery, lay the skeleton of a hyperborean Dacian, our ancestor. I do not know if I will make it, because I was radiated. They scared you well, but us, the Secret Police guys, do not get scared so easily, so they get rid of us. I do not know you, you do not know me. I gave you nothing. You get it?” „Yes, I got it!”. He stood up and went quickly through the door. I only say him like a shadow behind me for another two days and them I never say him again. But I still have the Hyperborean picture from him”.
THE SLAB
But let’s come back to the slab…
It was april 2012. After the talks behind closed doors at the Ministry of Mines, Petrol and Geology, the Canadian side argued that this finding should not be made public, and the gallery should be urgently closed. The Romanian side agreed with keeping the secret but insisted on continuing the research and sent another team. This time the archaeologists’ team was lead by an old one, with a scar next to his left eye. For three month, they secretly dug around the slab and as a result it was completely unearthed. It did not take very long, because 36 years ago, the giant skeleton was dug from above the slab, and most of the unearthing had been performed then. Measurements showed that the perfectly smooth slab had a length of 12 meters, a width of 6 meters and it was weighing about 1700 tons, 100 tones more than the slab discovered in Baalbek> the gold contained in it was about 900 tons, about 300 times more than we could obtain with a full recycling of the mountains of sterile rock deposited for millenia in Rosia montana after searching for gold, and 150 times more than all the gold that had been extracted in surface and underground minig by the Agathyrsi for the Dacians, and then Romans, and then Austro-Hungarians and Romanians.
The area was immediately surrounded with a barbed wire fence and put under military watch, and the preliminary digging for a well with a 12 meters diameter to reach the slab were commenced in May 2012. a
At the end of June, to be exact on the 23rd, the slab was taken up to the surface, cut in 80 equal pieces, loaded in conteiners and transported swiftly, during the night, under military escort, to an unknown destination. There is some information coming grom trustworthy sources that indicate the conteiners were delivered to the Steel Plant SIDEX Galati and they are already molten, turned into ingots of gold and wolfram but we do not know where is the secret storage place.
OLD DACIAN WRITING
The fact that the slab vanished and there is no photo of it is understandable. A worker that participated in the cutting claims that there is a set of photos taken by an old prestigious Romanian archaeologist, that they were delivered to a paleo linguist to study them and that this scholar warned the romanian authorities that the slab has an immense cultural and historical value to the Romanian people and for the entire human kind. The value would be much higher than its trade value. To support his claims, the archaeologist presented a few photos showing that the entire surface was covered in carved letters, emerald green , totally unknown according to the paleolinguist, but with high probability of being the Pelasg, set in three parallel rows, starting from top left and winding diagonally, in spiral, around the head o f a wolf, and then ending at the bottom right corner. It looks like the Romanian authorities were insensitive to all these warnings and evidences, and ordered the cutting and melting of the slab, after which 19.31 % of the income were to be wired to the State treasury, as negotiated with the Canadian side, according to the contract for mining gold and rare metals in the area.
SHAMBALLA ?
„Thing became amazing when – said nthe reputed archaeologist whose name is confidential for protection purposes -lifting the slab a well with a diameter of 4 meters became visible. INside it there was a helix ladder, the steps were carved in the walls of the well, like cut with a laser. From inside the well came a milky, violet light. Although the workers, geologists and archaeologists needed sime time to recover from the astonishment, no one had the courage to go down and check the well, excelpt the paelo linguist. The next day was too late. Overnight, the Romanian Intelligence Service and the army had covered the well with boards and then cement was poured for sealing. We had waited for the paelo linguist to come back but he never came back to the surface. The next day the exterior well and the old gallery entrance were also sealed. The same day, myself and all witnesses that saw the extraction of the slab and the discovery of the well deep down the mine were forced to sign some document granting the keeping of the State Secret, and then we left to our homes, scared. ”
The head office of the Ministry of Mines, Petrol and Geology and Institute of Archaeology of Bucharest, as expected, have no information to share. Silence fell over the events. Some voices state that high Government employees muffled the entire business and that Swiss bankers are satisfied. Last time when we could discuss with the archaeologist and the witness worker was July 28, 2012, after which they were not found anymore, anywhere. Neighbors talk about some vans, masked agents and night arrests, but it is not sure.
the Obsession for Protection
A few years ago, attending a masters’ retreat, I witnessed a hallucinating scenario – one of the organizers was getting signals about a massive negative presence. I did not feel a thing, although I can detect heavy energies or low frequencies. She was really under the pressure of this presence, and the vibe passed to some of her students. Headaches showed up promptly, then nausea, then my tourmaline crystal literally exploded.
These “attacks” only happened around her, and they were quite often, like a herd of dark beings was constantly stalking this master. Once separated from the respective group, the negative experiences stopped. Very seldom did I experience what we call a dark presence, and then there was quite clear negotiation about it and my commitment about not interfering with such energies always yielded in the disappearance of the respective form.
Years later, in an Ayahuasca ceremony, such a being showed up and it was visible to more than one participant. Some of them were bothered by it. I chose to envelop it in a thick, pink cloud of love, like a cotton candy coccoon, and the discomfort stopped. The story is longer and it should be the subject of another article, but the event repeated with another group. Using a similar technique, the result was identical – the energy got literally absorbed in the Higher Realms, to be transmuted and recycled.
A Grand Master gave me the privilege of being attuned to something we call Shinki . In the Japanese tradition, Shinki is the name of the leading consciousness – it is the equivalent of God or Universal Consciousness in our language. I noticed everytime I used it in therapy it worked like a deep, profound, ample re-start of the energy system of that person. I also noticed how it dissolved any thought forms associated to ill programming of the light body.
And then it struck me. These things happen only because we believe in them. They are created and accepted by the person’s mind, and the therapist can intervene and re-balance the misconstrued creation simply bringing up the level of energy. It is like someone is turning a bright bulb on. There is no more shadow. There was no shadow before, but turning the light on proves there is no shadow.
The electronic environment is full of workshops, crystal remedies, essences, methods and means for protecting against attacks, negative entities, witchcraft, auric depletion, vampires… and so on… and so forth. Let’s cast some light on the subject.
There are a few simple principles:
1. Our mind is the most powerful creation tool. Misdirected, it produces aberations that we might call demons, evil non incarnated souls, and so on.
2. none of the miscreations can interact with someone’s energy body unless that person admits they exist. And accepts these thought forms or whatever other structured, conscious or non conscious energy forms.
3. these lower levels of vibrating consciousness are instantly dissolved, transmuted, re-integrated when the energy of the respective person or place gets a significant boost.
Discipline in keeping the mind on the positive side, coupled with a healthy energy recharge method, whatever feels best for you, should do it. Keep the faith, work on it and you will see how these aberations disappear with fireworks, a poof or they simply, silently vanish. Be disciplined about staying in the positive side of thinking and practice your recharge regularly. Not only will it prevent more unpleasant events in your spiritual travels, but it will definitely feed that Seed of Light that we are carrying in this human body with the sole purpose of nurturing it and growing it until we realize our splendid godly nature, and remember we are divine beings.
Being Present
I owe this article to my friend Nastya, who started the debate : should we speak more about the concept of being present or about how to do it? The answer is both. We are here, in the reality knot of the probabilities, having the possibility of choosing the desired path from a continuous series of crossroads. Sometimes, so busy regreting we did not do this or that, or sorry for what we did do, that we cannot see what is presented right before our eyes.
The proposals of Universe are never coming to the central axis of our sight or consciousness. They are always lateral, like side breezes caressing our mind, or marginal glimpses in the visual field, or small, almost subliminal whispers of the higher consciousness. Unless we are present, we cannot receive these precious pieces of information. Sometimes they come in an encrypted form, or this is how our brain perceives them, so if we are not there, we will just lose the moment of perception and, with it, the opportunity.
The same thing happens if we slide into unnecessary worry for the future. Not only we are not present to make the choice, but we also widen the probability path for an unwanted choice in the crossroad. Fear of future, instead of sincere, open belief that everything happening is like a riverbed that allows for our little stream of consciousness to come back to the greater Ocean that has so many names, prevents us from making this apparently strange return. Why should life be about returning and not about going? Because we are like batteries that need to reconnect to the Source in order to recharge. Once the reconnection process happens, we kind of know the way to the plug, time and again, so our autonomy turns from limited to infinite, and we can finally make the supreme, seemingly impossible long journey to who we really are.
It is clear now that the maximum creation potential is in the Now. The dilemma we all had or have – or maybe, after reading this, you are going to have it – is what is the practical way to be present, aware and make the choices enabling anyone to proceed with personal evolution.
It is much simpler than we expect. The easiest way comes from the Theravada Buddhism, and it is about focusing on the breath. Sit or lie down. On the floor, in your bed, on a comfortable chair or outside, in the sun, on a lawn. It really does not matter, just choose the place that makes you comfortable. The important part is to have the type of position and place that makes you worry less about the body. The body should take care of itself.
Now, just focus on Now. With every out-breath. If the mind drifts, do not cling to the focus, do not punish yourself, do not analyse where and why it went. Just re-focus on your breath. On the out-breath, because after the out-breath there is nothing. That nothingness is the seed of potential, of creation, of All There Is. STay with it. Wonderful side effects might happen: feeling suddenly at peace, quiet, joyful… or more. Just stay there.
Some enjoy listening to the sounds or playing with other senses. Dive into the visual sensation of the clouds floating on the sky, listen to the minute sounds around you, either you are surrounded by Nature or human made environments, examine the scents (that one needs a good setting to avoid annoying ones) and see how much awareness of Now this brings.
As you get used to it, extend the time, bring the practice into the daily routines, and start focusing on being present while you do things. Your sensory experiences will help with it. Relax the lateral part of your consciousness. Signs will appear – shamans have always known that and a part of their teaching is to develop this lateral awareness so that one can receive the input / proposals of the Universe.
Last, but not least, this constant training for being here and now will lead to an enhanced feeling of who you are. Some describe a kind of landing of a deeper sense of Presence, a higher Presence, like we are suddenly immersed in a wider and much deeper consciousness. We call it the Presence.
It may come with the first experience or after a long, long series of attempts. Do not set expectations, just go with the process. Let your curiosity and awareness discover what is there to be discovered, and enjoy each small step forward. Reward yourself for it and patiently go for the next step.
It is like a slow sculpting of Yourself. It takes time, serenity, and clarity of the purpose. Let the circumstances work out the best way for you. Just breathe out, listen, get the perceptions. Then think about what you got during the experience… some have their first conversation with God in such an attempt :). Trust your inner wisdom, the one we call intuition, to validate the experience. And continue.
leave your emotional luggage behind.
Stress. Anxiety. Fear. Anger. Feeling disempowered. How can you get back into calm, balance and being sure there is an extra supply of inner power that you can always use in times of need?
There is counseling. There are shrinks.
And then… there are old, old tools: the mudras and the mantras: gestures and sacred phrases, many of them ancient, that magically open the energy pipelines to leave you refreshed and enjoying your inner quiet space. Here is an emergency pack that you can use.
Let’s start with the beginning:
1. Abhyasa Mudra for courage and fearlessness, works on anxiety
Place cupped right hand in front of belly with palm facing up. Hold left hand with palm forward beside left shoulder.
2. Avhana Mudra for increasing the ability to receive and accepting help from others
Place palms beside each other, little fingers touching, press thumbs into base of index finger, hold other fingers together; place hands at solar plexus.
3.
Kaleswara Mudra for self-esteem. Fights all addictions.
Begin with palms together. Bend index fingers toward each other until knuckles touch, extend middle finger tips together, curl ring and pinkie fingers inward, not touching. Draw thumb points toward body.
4. Pushan Mudra – a great relaxation trigger, works on stressors we are internalizing
Right Hand: Touch tips of thumb, index & middle fingers together, extend all others.
Left Hand: Touch tips of thumb, middle & ring fingers together, extend all others. Rest hands with palms up.
5. Garuda Mudra for unblocking stuck emotions or life obstacles.
Cross the left wrist in front of the right and interlace the thumbs together, splay the other fingers over the upper chest.
Benefits: Balances the right and left sides of the body, creates a sense of freedom
Use it with caution if you have high blood pressure .
Use each mudra for about five minutes… or until it becomes uncomfortable. Many seem easy but they really need some work with the muscles and tendons.
The mudra may be accompanied by a mantra. Here is a short list that you might try and see if there is anything you like:
SO HAM (I Am)
RA MA DA SA SA SE SO HAM (total merger of self infinity with What Is)
SAT NAM (invoking the truth)
OM SAANG SOMAYA NAMAHA (Moon mantra)
You can find them on the Internet, play them and chant while you perform the mudra. There are several versions, just choose the one you really enjoy 🙂
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSxWl_8oG0s
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dPD_vJqRtQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQCzxGDOgZM
Enjoy.
The Miracle High Way 