Sweaty Meditations, Clear Intentions, Elevated Emotions, and Brain Orgasms
A birthday weekend to remember that no one will remember.
Because they weren’t there. They weren’t invited.
It wasn’t planned quite like this. It was supposed to be a weekend overnighter with girlfriends. Hotel, pool, drinks, repeat. But in the end, it didn’t turn out that way. Oh, there were girlfriends, a hotel, even a pool, but no drinks and lots of repetition.
If you weren’t there, you can stop reading now.
Dear reader, please excuse, dismiss and just plain ignore what’s below. It’s only a personal account of our weekend that no one should care about except my sister and me. You are hereby excused from reading further and I bid you a lovely evening. In fact, I don’t recommend reading as you’ll be lost, intrigued and have questions that I won’t answer.
Meanwhile, back in the deeper caverns of the mind …
22 hours of workshop, lectures, meditation, slideshows, videos, discussions, Q&A, sweaty breathing exercises, visits with the greater mind, discussions with the self, slow, long hugs with no-longer-stranger neighbors, brutal and immediate honesty of the sort only found on deserted islands, love, passion, healing, and most of all energy and a weekend of triathlon training would have been less taxing, less brutal, and less rewarding.
We cried, smiled, laughed, teared up, screamed, jolted, shook. We shook hands, nodded and shook heads. Our innards were massaged, our outer sides were questioned, our fundamentals changed. What we knew of our reality was turned on its head and we were the better for it. Desert sunsets and early morning Q&A. Sweet honey tea, sweaty energy, and salty upper lips.
Jennifer from Arkansas (via Connecticut) sent my dad her love and said that she hoped he came to Arkansas so she could hold him. If I weren’t there, I wouldn’t have had tears in my eyes, but I was there and I held her hand as she blessed my father, unknown to her. She unknown to me minutes previous. People looked you in the eye, they smiled, they made contact. Where was I? What was I doing here?
It was no ordinary birthday weekend for my sister. We have never done such a thing before and, who knows, might never do such a thing again. The energy rose from my sacrum as if sucked up through a straw to the upper reaches of my head where it swirled around my brain not unlike Fantasia and Mickey Mouse and his broom and the rising water. But I didn’t want to get rid of it, that was the purpose. I pulled it up to release it from my lower energy centers to bring it all up, swirl it up and pull all energy up with it to my brain to provide the energy it needed. The vacuum of energy below would be replenished with healthier, filtered, newer energy that would do more good than harm. Working us like horses pulling a heavy carriage, we plodded on, breathing heavily, eyes closed, focused attention, and the mind as sharp and clear as it ever might be. Just a little further. Just to the other side. You can get there. We got there.
What are you smoking? What planet are you from?
I took so many notes but I’m too beat to look through them. I will, over time. There are too many notes, too many thoughts, too many experiences. Whew, how can I capture the power of this weekend? How can I not let it slip into the annals of the past? I need to keep the energy alive, relive the power, re-experience the brain orgasms at the very least. Do I remember how I got there? I think so, I took notes. Good notes.
We’re on a mission, a passioned exploration of healing to help our dad. If you’re still reading, dear stranger, please either stop or just keep it to yourself. This is our journey to heal him in any way we can. He’s a very private person, but I just can’t hold back my love for him. Tomorrow, as a matter of record, I have wondrous plans for him which I will share. I hope it will be of some help, I don’t see how it could be a hindrance.
I hope the path we’re on is anywhere near to one that will help him. How can we know? We can’t know. We also can’t know it’s not working.
The passion, love, energy, joy, enthusiasm, clear intention, and elevated emotion all together and how can we go wrong? We have to give it our best, leave no stone unturned, give it our absolute best. That’s all we can ever ask for: our best. What more can we do?
We love, we give, we appreciate. We are joyous, loving and grateful. We drip enthusiasm, we exude confidence, and we sweat passion. We are walking, talking love machines with no other purpose than to love, heal, and rejoice. I only see good coming out of that.