Our physical bodies know about eternity and infinity. The cells remember. Every itch and urge is our soul speaking. Each sensation has a message. We are silent and still. We listen and respond. We become attuned to our universe. We know perfection.
Babies and very young children are in touch with their bodies until they are conditioned to conform to social norms. The ascension process is about forgetting what we have been taught by others and remembering that we are God.
Teresa Golden writes, from her own experiences, about breath-of-life-spirit moving biology.
I walked through an old grave yard with flint walls, huge clipped yew trees and a small chapel to see the sun set. There were horses in a field at the end. I stood by the two-barred wooden fence and a huge copper-gold horse came to say hello. Usually, I'm a bit scared of horses and put out my hand with a bit of bravado and stroke their muzzles. In this moment, I surrendered to the horse. I did nothing. He put his head over mine, so my face was next to his great neck. I felt no fear. With his muzzle he pushed very firmly on my back, behind my heart, and I felt two clicks like when I see the chiropractor. What a gift. My heart opened.
I read an essay, last night, in 'Spiritual Emergency' entitled 'When Insanity is a Blessing: The Message of Shamanism' about a Kwakiutl Native American who ran with the wolves. One day, a wolf friend "pressed its muzzle against his chest bone and vomited all its magical force into him. He fell into a deep sleep and dreamt that the wolf changed into a human being and told him that he would now be able to heal the sick... When he awoke, he was trembling all over. Now he was a shaman."
I say may my presence be a catalyst for the sick to heal themselves.
I was at the beach. It was a grey day.
My body had the urge to do some yoga.
It felt sublime. I felt a few drops of rain. I looked up, in a backbend, and noticed the faintest of rainbows high in the sky above me.
Everything felt right in my world as if the universe was smiling on me.
It was late September. I was on Southsea beach going for a swim. There was no one there except for two fishermen way up the beach. I waded into the sea, slowly, until the water was up to my chest. I looked down and saw what I thought was a large clump of fast moving seaweed travelling fast towards my shins. Just before it made contact, it swerved. “That’s no seaweed,” I thought. And, with that, a large, dark brown, nearly black, seal’s head broke the surface of the water next to me. I felt blessed by his visit- he had come to see me!
No one else I know has ever seen a seal, in these waters, so close to the shore.
I was feeling contentment as I stood in the water. When I looked up what the animal represents in Native American animal medicine, I found that the seal does, indeed, indicate contentment.
I happened to be walking through the shopping precinct when my body had an overwhelming urge to stand in the mountain pose. I tried to resist the feeling because I did not trust what my body was saying in that busy setting.
I pushed on, listening to the logical, left-side-half of my brain, with my body feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, I stopped. My feet instantly became parallel and rooted to the earth. My spine elongated with my crown, like a mountain summit, reaching for the sky. I stood firmly with my chin on the level, arms resting easily by my sides, fingers gently stretching downwards, shoulders relaxed and chest open. My breathing deepened and my eyes focussed on a still spot in font of me. My body felt wonderful.
I was immersed in the pose, feeling serene and connected to the earth and the sky, when my daughter appeared, through the throng, walking towards me. She was in tears over something.
“Mummy!” she said, seeing me standing there.
“Darling, what’s the matter?” I asked gently releasing my pose.
She explained what had just happened to upset her. I soothed her. Then we went our separate ways.
By allowing my physical body to guide me, I had been in the right place at the right time able to do the right thing. Afterwards, I did what I needed to do to complete my shopping list without effort. I was just glad that my body had not deemed it necessary to do sarvangasana, the shoulderstand, right there in the precinct!
A while later, I was in the same shopping precinct. Once again I felt the urge to stand still. This time, trusting my body, I knew I had to stand still, right where I was. My body knew. My intuitive mind knew. So, in trust, I stood. Doing nothing. Breathing. Calm. Relaxed. Someone promoting something approached me. I smiled. I said I did not have time to engage with him. I continued, quietly, to stand. Then, I glanced to my left and noticed that I was directly outside my old optician’s shop. Two years ago, I’d had my eyes lasered and no longer needed glasses. The opticians kept sending me information that I did not need any more. Immediately, I felt the urge to move. I walked straight into the shop and asked for my details to be removed from their database. It felt complete, efficient, appropriate and easy.
The person, who’d approached me, watched me emerge from the opticians. We smiled at one another peacefully.
