Writing the Energetic Body will use the major chakra system as the “backbone” for self-exploration through writing.
Participants will:
compassionately and creatively observe the Self
uncover hidden impulses, stories, and life patterns
awaken the body/mind
utilize the breath for presence in the moment
deepen and expand creative vision
loosen up and strengthen fluid writing
There is no need to “know” anything about the chakra system, our bodies physically and energetically hold information, and by freely writing we can tap into that knowledge.
Participants will receive daily writing prompts designed to stimulate a specific chakra for the given day in their in-boxes. They will spend 30 minutes only on the given prompt. They will return their responses via email to me. Participants will also have the chance to upload their work to a private blog site to share and to give and receive feedback from other participants.
I will personally respond to your work via email.
As an added bonus, participants also receive either written, audio, or video instruction for movement, meditation, or breath work that will deepen the prompt for the day. Participants may use the additional instruction however they choose—and it is theirs to refer to whenever they like.
So, what would it mean to you to fully, completely, radically accept yourself and your world completely? What would it mean if you lived your life fully from the perspective of “accepting everyone exactly as he or she is, and exactly as he or she is not?”
Now, this does not mean that you stop having boundaries and letting people walking all over you. It simply means that you accept everyone (ESPECIALLY yourself) exactly as they are and exactly as they are not.
What would it mean to accept yourself and your world? Visit Robert’s post for a ritual in which he invites you to go deeper with the question of Radical Self-Acceptance and what that means for you.
The Western version of the pantoum is a poem of indefinite length made up of stanzas whose four lines are repeated in a pattern: lines 2 and lines 4 of each stanza are repeated as lines 1 and 3 of the next stanza, and so on, as shown below:
Line 1
Line 2
Line 3
Line 4
Line 5 – same as line 2
Line 6
Line 7 – same as line 4
Line 8
Line 9 – same as line 6
Line 10
Line 11 – same as line 8
Line 12
And so on.
Sometimes the final stanza has a neat twist: although it fist and third lines are as usual the same as the second and fourth lines in the stanza above it, its second and fourth lines are the same as the third and first lines of the very first stanza. This way, every line in the poem is used twice, and the first line of the poem is the same as the last. Rhyme is optional . . .
One of the most salient lessons of the 20th Century has been the growing awareness that where atrocity has happened, acknowledgment of the terrible events through an act of contrition must be undertaken in order to facilitate healing among people. Less salient is the awareness that just such atonement must occur in relationship to the land as well. I have come to believe that if events are not properly memorialized, if they are repressed or suppressed or dismissed, the sufferings of all those involved (especially the wounded landscape which has literally absorbed the blood, and spiritually taken in the trauma) continue to live on in that geographical space—in the earth, herself—and subtly, unconsciously, influence those who currently occupy that land. The wounded landscape itself reaches out to those of us who occupy it by making its own memories, emotions, and traumas seem to be our own. It whispers to us its story, a story we notice first in the form of vague feelings, disturbing dreams, uncanny sensations, and dimly perceived shadows; feelings, sensations, and shadows we are obliged to recognize and honor if we are to understand and heal ourselves and our land.
This is a very thought-provoking piece – I recommend you take the time to read it.
Then, “Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.” (Shakespeare)
Five things about myself:
1. I’m sitting on my couch while I type this, holding my computer between my knees. I don’t have a table or desk set up yet, since I recently moved.
2. I am planning on writing a newsletter today for former and current yoga and writing students.
3. I can hear a clock ticking right now, though I don’t think there is a clock in the house (or rather apartment)!
4. I recently had my hair cut short. There is still a lot of it, and it is naturally curly.
5. I met my hair stylist in Phoenix, though we were both active musicians performing in New York City’s East Village during the same era (the 90s).
Dreaming I am driving in the city, a city, the way I dream of New York lately. Houston Street is always a vast 8-lane highway that breaks off in a V, dividing the Lower East Side from the rest of the city. Massive buildings, uneven, bulging, and swaying—thousands and thousands of windows. No room for air. It’s grey, the sky, the city, everything. Even red and yellow have a coat of grey.
I have a studio there that will serve as an art studio, another room that will serve as my reiki studio and my tarot reading room, and, a gallery.
I live really close to the Heard Museum, the Phoenix Art Museum, and the Phoenix Center for the Arts. I’m looking forward to connecting with artists and teachers and volunteering and taking classes – just being active in the arts with other creative people.
My place! I love it! I love the courtyard, I have some cool neighbors, a swimming pool and a hot tub, and a patio!
Of course – my man and Seraphina.
Not driving over 100 miles a day to get back and forth to work. My situation right now is incredibly unsustainable. In fact – I am focusing on walking and/or biking distance.
A bedroom and a bathroom of my own. A door to close.
My own bed!
The chance to make more money.
The possibility of starting a band!
Fun places to rock my new haircut. (I know, sounds silly, but, I really like places that have ambience and style . . . )
The possibility of restarting grad school
holly troy ~ sacred folly 