Went to the cinema Saturday night. Crowded with the young and stylish, everyone trying not to let on their self-conscious state of mind, putting their self-esteem and confidence to the test (I am reminded of that song from Dance Mix 95 « Saturday Night ») I went to see Legion : Army of the Angels.
The beginning reminded me of Terminator. An angel descends to the earth, naked. He immediately looks to blend in with us humans, and he is not at the nudist colony in Costa Rica, but L.A., so he breaks into your local department store. He goes about surgically removing his wings, and then stitching up the wounds on his back, and then dons some civilian clothing. The police outside witness him burst a hole through the brick wall in the shape of a cross and exit, and they roll out of their cars and pull out their nines. As they approach, the angel bursts into martial arts self defense and one of the policemen suddenly starts having a seizure. He is suddenly possessed, and knows exactly who the archangel Michael is before him. They fight a bit, and the possessed cop bites the dust.
A gas stop/diner in the Mojave desert, where a young pregnant couple struggle to make ends meet, the guy tries to fix cars and the girl serves at the guy’s dad’s joint. Some other folks are stranded at the diner, the computer in the BMW is sick. An old one-handed god-fearing black war veteran flips burgers. Some young fiery black guy pulls in. The TV doesn’t work anymore, and they discover that the radio doesn’t either. The mechanic notices a mass of clouds approaching from one direction, and another one from the other. An old grannywithwalker enters the diner, and orders a raw steak. Cute, quaint little old granny suddenly prophesizes that the baby in hte server’s womb is going to burn. What horror ! Are you crazy old lady ? That is unacceptable. Well what are you going to do about it, as flies start to come out of my mouth and my eyes turn black and I climb up the wall onto the ceiling like a huge ant rapidly towards you ? Oh god, the dad grabs hold of the shotgun and the gangster his pistol, and action scene…granny bites the dust, owner of the BMW loses the skin on his throat.
Archangel Michael arrives in the stolen cop car with various sub machine guns, machine guns and a rocket launcher and says we have to defend against the approaching horde. Are you crazy ?…Okay, we will. They block the doors and windozs and wait in fear. An ice cream truck arrives with a zombie driving. Why is there a zombie in the movie ? Where are the flying angels in plate mail ? The zombie hits the dust. Later on, more zombies come, lots. They emotionally manipulate the people one by one into leaving the diner and being ripped apart. Turns out the baby in the womb is the only hope for humanity (sound familiar ?), and the Terminator has descended from a place far, far away to defend it from God, who has decided must be exterminated by his legion of angels, and archangel Michael says « no » and amputates two of his limbs and grabs big guns and goes to the desert. The zombies get pumped full of lead (they are actually humans who are being mind-controlled by the angels to do their dirty work) and some personal dramas unfold in the diner and Archangel Gabriel breaks up with Michael and they have a fight…
The movie was no good. It was not original, it was a mix between The Terminator series, The Exorcist and a couple of zombie movies.
Maybe Plato was right, maybe there is nothing new in this world, only stuff yet to be recollected. Well, I recollect where I saw this movie before.
Hey, that was fun ! I saw a movie review on another blog, and enjoyed the sarcasm and synopsis, so thought I would try it out. I am planning to go to Belgium/ique in a few weeks to visit family in Anvers/Antwer/pen. Jean Luc Guimard, Stephanie’s father whose name reminds me of the captain in Star Trek, opened the shutters of the window behind me to see if the expected 100km/h winds have arrived. The Atlantic coast is already vulnerable after the last sea storm hit its banks, turned Ile d’ Oleron into three islands, and the coast is expecting another storm. I saw a documentary on Sunday eve about the magnetosphere of the Earth (its magnetic bubble sunblock), and how Mars got fried (or frozen ?) as a result of its magnetospheric collapse. The magnetosphere is generated by the liquid metal core of the planet and the planet’s rotation, and the unstable core could (and has) stopped generating it’s magnetic sphere, which is dangerous for all earthly life. It could also cause the polarity of the planet to flip, so north becomes south, and this would involve a period of a thousand years of no magnetic sphere. No magnetic sphere means all the radiation of that turbulent sun penetrates the atmosphere and perhaps desertifies the planet, causes an epidemic of skin cancer, and/or other crises. The sun goes through periods of maximum energetic output and minimum, and we are due for a maximum pretty soon (you would NEVER guess what year).
I discovered that, for breakfast, crepes coated with Tahini and pear jam are fantastic ! We are planning to make sushi soon, which is fun…
Cheers,
Maurizio
Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Saturday morning melancholy
I noticed an interesting coincidence in my blog. I wrote earlier about having this absence of anxiety and this ability to keep my mind in the present. Later on, after the retreat, I came to realize that in fact I have been deceiving myself about this. I wrote early about not having fear of heights and having good focus and mind-body connection. Later on, while doing carpentry, my brain fudges and I fall through the roof onto concrete. Self-deception. Perhaps also a bit prophetic. On another note, I try to be honest on this blog, but I think I have crossed some lines and betrayed the privacy of my family life, and I feel shameful and apologetic for that.
I am continuing to collect French papers, and I am getting good at it too ! Almost every time I go to the administrative building now, I bring the right papers and now I can understand what the lady is saying ! Soon, I will no longer need a representative and translator. Volunteer carpentry work : done. I recovered enough by Monday to work the whole week. In total I worked on three houses, starting and finishing walls, insulation, starting roofs, and finally putting big sections of the roof up onto the walls. Hard work. Interesting work, a nice blend of body and mind, planning, organizing time and materials prudently, and focusing in the present (so you don’t fall onto the concrete below).
Antwerp next, to visit uncle and aunt, cousin and grandmother. I am planning to part in less than a week, for a little more than a week.
I started to eat sweet things again (chocolate), and a bit of caffeine. No big deal really, says my digestion. Just be moderate. Results of the blood test : low levels of cholesterol. I prayed to GODGLE.COM, and they told me that this is potentially as dangerous as the opposite extreme. It can be caused by hyperthyroidism and anxiety. Lightbulb materialises above my head and turns on with a BING ! noise. Mrs. Acupunctrice told me I have anxiety and an imbalance with my thyroid gland. My numbers are not significantly low, though. I have started to consciously eat a bit more fat than has been recently usual.
So I am supposed to be better now, according to the Acupuncturer, but yeah, I suppose I do feel better, not radically, and there are so many factors affecting my emotions, and this is the issue « hard » scientists have with the « soft » sciences : you can’t control all the variables, you can’ t conduct proper experiments. Anyway, I feel good enough, and that is good.I have stopped working now, and so my emotional state while I am inactive may tell a different story.
How are you guys ? I am not very good at multitasking, and keeping up to date frequently with my Canadian world while I am getting my feet wet in France is not easy for me. The blog is an easier way, but still, I apologize to some of you for not making more efforts to speak with you privately.
Sadness, anxiety, anger, lust. Are we not like different people when we are within the realms of these emotions ? And when we leave them, they go dormant, retaining all the developed symbolism and history. And when we return to them, we rediscover that history, those trends resume, and relate to the new catalytic event. I have once thought of them as cabinet ministers, and I am the president. Each minister offers advice on what direction to take, what to invest time and energy into, and they don’t all agree with eachother. A guru once said that to him, emotions are friends. Yeah, they make things interesting, don’t they ?
Cheers,
M
I am continuing to collect French papers, and I am getting good at it too ! Almost every time I go to the administrative building now, I bring the right papers and now I can understand what the lady is saying ! Soon, I will no longer need a representative and translator. Volunteer carpentry work : done. I recovered enough by Monday to work the whole week. In total I worked on three houses, starting and finishing walls, insulation, starting roofs, and finally putting big sections of the roof up onto the walls. Hard work. Interesting work, a nice blend of body and mind, planning, organizing time and materials prudently, and focusing in the present (so you don’t fall onto the concrete below).
Antwerp next, to visit uncle and aunt, cousin and grandmother. I am planning to part in less than a week, for a little more than a week.
I started to eat sweet things again (chocolate), and a bit of caffeine. No big deal really, says my digestion. Just be moderate. Results of the blood test : low levels of cholesterol. I prayed to GODGLE.COM, and they told me that this is potentially as dangerous as the opposite extreme. It can be caused by hyperthyroidism and anxiety. Lightbulb materialises above my head and turns on with a BING ! noise. Mrs. Acupunctrice told me I have anxiety and an imbalance with my thyroid gland. My numbers are not significantly low, though. I have started to consciously eat a bit more fat than has been recently usual.
So I am supposed to be better now, according to the Acupuncturer, but yeah, I suppose I do feel better, not radically, and there are so many factors affecting my emotions, and this is the issue « hard » scientists have with the « soft » sciences : you can’t control all the variables, you can’ t conduct proper experiments. Anyway, I feel good enough, and that is good.I have stopped working now, and so my emotional state while I am inactive may tell a different story.
How are you guys ? I am not very good at multitasking, and keeping up to date frequently with my Canadian world while I am getting my feet wet in France is not easy for me. The blog is an easier way, but still, I apologize to some of you for not making more efforts to speak with you privately.
Sadness, anxiety, anger, lust. Are we not like different people when we are within the realms of these emotions ? And when we leave them, they go dormant, retaining all the developed symbolism and history. And when we return to them, we rediscover that history, those trends resume, and relate to the new catalytic event. I have once thought of them as cabinet ministers, and I am the president. Each minister offers advice on what direction to take, what to invest time and energy into, and they don’t all agree with eachother. A guru once said that to him, emotions are friends. Yeah, they make things interesting, don’t they ?
Cheers,
M
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
To turn the other cheek, and get it bruised and battered
Wow, another test of my motivation today. I started my volunteer stunt Monday and it is fantastic ! Carpentry is lots of fun and uses the logic side of my brain well. The house is right beside the river Charente and the neighbors keep sheep and hens and geese and have little vegetable gardens, and so the other half of my brain can be used well as well admiring the sights around me. We have been installing these plywood panels for the roof (the first layer, after is insulation, after vapor barrier, and then tiles), and boy they provide great exercise ! Each is the size of a dining room table top, and I must lift them out of the truck, then lift them above my head to the second level, where the foreman grabs them and hoists them up. Lots of opportunity for balancing acts as well as we tiptoe across the wood skeleton structure (called the charpente in French) of the roof. The weather has been sunny and around twenty degrees, and I have worked in my wife-beater (please, don’t be alarmed) and overalls. I have a sunburn on the back of my neck, in mid-March, at a latitude the same level as perhaps North Bay, or Timmins. Wonder how long that will last…
So I placed a plywood panel that hung out over one of the wooden support ribs and forgot to staple it to the frame. I went to grab another panel and tiptoe across the ribs and then, with the heat and the sustained effort of carrying this beefy panel, my brain farted and I stepped on the panel I had just laid. It broke under my weight like a trap door and I fell through 12 feet to the concrete floor beneath. I bashed my arm on something jutting out of the nearby wall and landed hard on my left butt cheek and my mid-back. The fall was quite fast seeming, and it felt kind of like those dreams where you just aren’t quick enough to catch something or escape something, and you feel this anxious disappointment. I saw the split-second opportunity to grab the ribs of this house and hang from them, but I was too slow. When I hit the floor, immediately my diaphragm constricted. Perhaps a second later, I found that I couldn’t breathe. I felt pain in my butt and my back, and I tried to inhale, but nothing moved. I pushed at my diaphragm, and instead of breathing I started emitting this continuous incoherent cry of pain (a cry which I hadn’t emitted since I broke my wrist playing soccer at 14), which surely alarmed and at the same time relieved the foreman who seemed to have teleported down from the roof frame to the floor beside me in an instant. I was quite calm and my mind was alert, I thought to myself that I should continue to observe my body sensations, and try to take long, controlled, calming breaths. When I saw that I couldn’t breathe, I decided calmly to make a muscular effort to breathe. After perhaps 15 seconds, I took a glorious breath, and then another and another.
« Oh putan, Maurizio, tu est okay ? Oh la la, oh la la, tu fa mal ? »
As I breathed slowly and deeply , I replied « ca va, je pense… » and then a sigh of relief. He put his coat under my head. He was already on the phone with a medic telling them « Il tombe de la charpente….peut etre 3 metres….Oui, il parle… ». I checked body sensations in my legs and my back. Ok, I am not paralyzed. I tried to move all parts of my body. Ok, my brain is sending signals and my corresponding muscles are responding without that sharp, lancing pain of broken bones. I started to laugh uncontrollably, but not too maniacically, in relief. I think he was confused as to how to react, and he uncontrollably emitted a laugh in response, but then asked me questions about my condition in a frightened tone. I really scared him, he said, and then, like a typical masculine man, started to investigate how I fell. Did you staple that panel before you stepped on it ? I was seeing stars, and my conscious, logical mind was not running at full speed, as I had taken a lot of sun that day, and was in a bit of a shock. Ummm….I think so, and then I clumsily tried to explain my hypothesis quickly constructed without luck. He offered me some water, and I took a gulp. I started to roll from side to side slowly, and then pull my legs towards my chest, and then roll onto a side and get up into a kneeling position. I felt very satisfied with my life, calm and greatful that I didn’t break a bone, paralyze myself, stop breathing, or die. I made a full-bodied hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm sound like some actor would after savouring a sip of NESCAFE on a Hawaiian beach with sunglasses and beach umbrella overhead. Life is good.
The medics came, I charismatically greeted them each « bonjour ! » and then the policemen came. They asked me the questions and told me not to get up and from then on I surrendered to the procedures of the social servants up until I removed my hospital patient gown and relieved myself in the washroom. I walked to the ambulance by my own efforts, and sat in constant back and butt pain in the stretcher. I got Xrays, nobody spoke English, but I am getting good at this French thing, you see ? The Xrays showed that my skeleton appeared to be in working order. The nurse gave me a minor painkiller, and I took it before my critical mind kicked in. Then it kicked in after, and I said to myself : don’t worry, it is water under the bridge, let ‘s see if I can detect the drug taking effect in my body. I was too fatigued to end that thought with an exclamation mark…
Stephanie’s father picked me up and took me home, and later on Stephanie Tiger Balmed my back, right tricep and left butt cheek and her parents provided me with the first homeopathic medicine I ever ingested in my life, followed by a dinner of Tart Alsacianne (a savory pie of thin crust topped with cream cheese, onion and bacon bits).
When you fall of the horse, you get back on the horse. I judge this age-old saying as one to be followed contextually. For example, when the 210 pound Armenian’s head pummeled my ribs just above my heart and drove me into the ground during a no-equipment tackle football game, I decided football was not a wise sport to engage in. So I didn’t get back on that horse. Carpentry is another thing. I will get right back on that horse, if I am ready, after 4 days of RnR and complete my volunteer thing.
Stephanie began her job at the vineyard today (she will be producing Cognac, Pineau, red and white wines, grape juice, and perhaps wildcrafted meals). It is in a beautiful hilly forested area near the border of Charente Maritime (where we are living) and Charente, the department which houses the town of Cognac. She likes it so far, and the farmer couple seem very amiable.
Cheers, (and this is how they spelled my name at the hospital,)
« Moricio Sebastien »
So I placed a plywood panel that hung out over one of the wooden support ribs and forgot to staple it to the frame. I went to grab another panel and tiptoe across the ribs and then, with the heat and the sustained effort of carrying this beefy panel, my brain farted and I stepped on the panel I had just laid. It broke under my weight like a trap door and I fell through 12 feet to the concrete floor beneath. I bashed my arm on something jutting out of the nearby wall and landed hard on my left butt cheek and my mid-back. The fall was quite fast seeming, and it felt kind of like those dreams where you just aren’t quick enough to catch something or escape something, and you feel this anxious disappointment. I saw the split-second opportunity to grab the ribs of this house and hang from them, but I was too slow. When I hit the floor, immediately my diaphragm constricted. Perhaps a second later, I found that I couldn’t breathe. I felt pain in my butt and my back, and I tried to inhale, but nothing moved. I pushed at my diaphragm, and instead of breathing I started emitting this continuous incoherent cry of pain (a cry which I hadn’t emitted since I broke my wrist playing soccer at 14), which surely alarmed and at the same time relieved the foreman who seemed to have teleported down from the roof frame to the floor beside me in an instant. I was quite calm and my mind was alert, I thought to myself that I should continue to observe my body sensations, and try to take long, controlled, calming breaths. When I saw that I couldn’t breathe, I decided calmly to make a muscular effort to breathe. After perhaps 15 seconds, I took a glorious breath, and then another and another.
« Oh putan, Maurizio, tu est okay ? Oh la la, oh la la, tu fa mal ? »
As I breathed slowly and deeply , I replied « ca va, je pense… » and then a sigh of relief. He put his coat under my head. He was already on the phone with a medic telling them « Il tombe de la charpente….peut etre 3 metres….Oui, il parle… ». I checked body sensations in my legs and my back. Ok, I am not paralyzed. I tried to move all parts of my body. Ok, my brain is sending signals and my corresponding muscles are responding without that sharp, lancing pain of broken bones. I started to laugh uncontrollably, but not too maniacically, in relief. I think he was confused as to how to react, and he uncontrollably emitted a laugh in response, but then asked me questions about my condition in a frightened tone. I really scared him, he said, and then, like a typical masculine man, started to investigate how I fell. Did you staple that panel before you stepped on it ? I was seeing stars, and my conscious, logical mind was not running at full speed, as I had taken a lot of sun that day, and was in a bit of a shock. Ummm….I think so, and then I clumsily tried to explain my hypothesis quickly constructed without luck. He offered me some water, and I took a gulp. I started to roll from side to side slowly, and then pull my legs towards my chest, and then roll onto a side and get up into a kneeling position. I felt very satisfied with my life, calm and greatful that I didn’t break a bone, paralyze myself, stop breathing, or die. I made a full-bodied hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm sound like some actor would after savouring a sip of NESCAFE on a Hawaiian beach with sunglasses and beach umbrella overhead. Life is good.
The medics came, I charismatically greeted them each « bonjour ! » and then the policemen came. They asked me the questions and told me not to get up and from then on I surrendered to the procedures of the social servants up until I removed my hospital patient gown and relieved myself in the washroom. I walked to the ambulance by my own efforts, and sat in constant back and butt pain in the stretcher. I got Xrays, nobody spoke English, but I am getting good at this French thing, you see ? The Xrays showed that my skeleton appeared to be in working order. The nurse gave me a minor painkiller, and I took it before my critical mind kicked in. Then it kicked in after, and I said to myself : don’t worry, it is water under the bridge, let ‘s see if I can detect the drug taking effect in my body. I was too fatigued to end that thought with an exclamation mark…
Stephanie’s father picked me up and took me home, and later on Stephanie Tiger Balmed my back, right tricep and left butt cheek and her parents provided me with the first homeopathic medicine I ever ingested in my life, followed by a dinner of Tart Alsacianne (a savory pie of thin crust topped with cream cheese, onion and bacon bits).
When you fall of the horse, you get back on the horse. I judge this age-old saying as one to be followed contextually. For example, when the 210 pound Armenian’s head pummeled my ribs just above my heart and drove me into the ground during a no-equipment tackle football game, I decided football was not a wise sport to engage in. So I didn’t get back on that horse. Carpentry is another thing. I will get right back on that horse, if I am ready, after 4 days of RnR and complete my volunteer thing.
Stephanie began her job at the vineyard today (she will be producing Cognac, Pineau, red and white wines, grape juice, and perhaps wildcrafted meals). It is in a beautiful hilly forested area near the border of Charente Maritime (where we are living) and Charente, the department which houses the town of Cognac. She likes it so far, and the farmer couple seem very amiable.
Cheers, (and this is how they spelled my name at the hospital,)
« Moricio Sebastien »
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A slap in the face, prophecy of a dessert lite...
Hi ladies and gentlemen,
I apologize for the long absence.
The retreat was very difficult, meaning it was very good. My back was persistently sore, in one area for 35 hours, and then the pain moved to another area for another 35 hours. It was not directly related to sitting unsupported with a straight back for all these hours, it was other, less obvious reasons. The first 3 days the pain was centered between my shoulderblades, and it was undoubtedly related to the issue with my cerebellum, the membrane surrounding my brain and spinal cord. It has been on and off tight and sore for a few years, and I started to notice it when I started to practice Yoga. How did it happen ? It could have been related to the hit I took playing tackle football without gear from the 210 pound Armenian’s head which contacted my heart region and drove me straight into the ground. The osteopath did a bit of this and a bit of that and said perhaps all the problems in this body are caused by this imbalanced cerebellum, pointing to the C1 on my spine as a source of disalignment, along with the parts of my skull behind and below my ears. Apparently he realigned my body, and I assume all the pain during the practice was the hangover effect (or karma) of me overstretching this membrane with frequent intense neck and trapezius and spine stretches, coupled with serious back workouts on the farm. The pain then migrated to the right side of my middle back, and felt as if it was a rib problem, which was contacting my lung. This I don’t have a story for, but of course I can make up a story (I can do that). It is not the side which is directly behind the point of aggressive football impact, that place has had pain inbetween the shoulderblade and spine on and off since I started working physically hard. So what is it on the right side ? It is surely psychosomatic, and so it is exciting. I really tried hard to keep long stretches of nothought, and was quite successful, I don’t know how many 1 minute bursts of mind totally preoccupied with bodily sensations I pulled off. Nothing compared to the 5 second bursts, but still, an improvement overall.
It was Stephanie’s first sit, and she said she found it very valuable, and not as hard as she would have previously imagined. It was interesting to see eachother again after the ten days. First contact was very shy and timid. We managed quite easily not to touch eachother or communicate lust or attachment for the whole tenth day. As we drove home, I told her how nothing mattered, when considering possible futures, that seemed to matter before, such details as what sort of land and countryside and projects and travels. This was where my big suppressed thing was moving around inside, and I totally misinterpreted it.
The next day, bright and early, to the acupuncture/osteopath lady. I had been fatigued after hardly 12 hours a day, easily cold, mentally exhausted. Steph’s dad suggested there was a problem with my energy, and that I see this well-renowned doctor in the area. I lied down on her patient’s bed and she poked and prodded a bit. She proceeded to make me more transparent than perhaps I have ever been able to by my own efforts, and any other guru or meditation master has been able to.
« The winters here are particularily humid. Your energy is very contracted, hardly reaches beyond your skin. This is why you are so cold. »
«You’re problem is that you
«You’re problem is that you’re mind is disconnected from your body, and busily preoccupied with the future. You are afraid, and so you make too many plans in your head for possible future outcomes. » (I begin to think to myself how ironic this is, the doctor says that my main problem is the same problem that I have tackled day after day for years, believing that I was quite adept at managing this human problem. My self-image rears its ugly head as it is hit with a hammer.)
«You are exhausted and are having psychosomatic reactions to these flurries of the mind. People who have this anxiety problem usually cope with it in two ways, either they turn to some addiction like smoking, chocolate, alcohol, or they subvert it into a metabolic transformation. »
«You had a radical change in your energy body when you were around eight or nine. Then again when you were around seventeen. » (My mind races back to the hazy history of my preteen years. This is just a few years after my parents divorced and my mom brought my brother and I to Canada. Around seventeen is when I finished high school. Big changes, surely could cause anxiety.)
«You’re energy is working here (she points to a certain region of my body). Now it is working here (another region). You seem to have a problem with your throat gland (I forget the scientific name).
(All of a sudden, I put two and two together and realize the symptoms I experienced at eight and seventeen were metabolic. I started to become overweight around the former age, and then mysteriously lost fifty pounds around seventeen and entered the range of normal weight. It was surely a reaction to anxiety, which was a reaction to my parents’ divorce, and being so far away from my father year after year, seeing him only 1 month a year.)
«The events surrounding these energetic events and the possible causes are not important. It is what the body did energetically that is important. » (Sadhu, sadhu, sadhu.)
(ego having been hit with a hammer, make it a sledgehammer, with my high pain tolerance and brawniness. I began to want to cry, but tears didn’t flow. I thought about my practice, doubted it’s effectiveness, doubted my teacher’s wisdom. Was blown away at how deep and thorough this energy imbalance is. Moreso, how adept I became at supressing it, convincing myself and thus others that I had the present moment no worries thing down pact. I had a master’s degree in it. Master’s degrees mean nothing. However here in France, people haven’t caught onto the realization that academic feats are not correlated positively or correlated at all in most cases with real-world professional performance. I had a brief, weak, barely conscious thought : all this inner work I have done all these years, regardless of my significant self-delusions, has brought my deeply rooted imbalance up to the surface finally, and with the help of a doctor I recognized it, realized that I had been experiencing the weather anomalies it has been causing in my body, finally !)
«I have helped to effectively reprogram your head so that you will stay more in the present. (Ummm, what are you, Dr. Frankenstein ? !) For the next three weeks, you will continue to have fatigue, and the head chatter and fear will perhaps increase. After this period you will have a great shift in your energy. Is it possible to meet again in six weeks ? (hmmm, I am skeptical, Goenka and others said you have to liberate your mind yourself. Let’s see, and try not to turn this into a grand case of placebo effect, either. I am wary of the power of suggestion.)
(Actually, whether it is placebo or not, if this big change takes place, it doesn’t matter the cause. This is the pragmatic, Chinese view of things, and for me it is supreme.)
And, since then, the French paper grind has continued. I had a flash of insight now as I am writing this as to the cause of the mass deforestation of France. I am now officially able to work in France, I have health insurance officially, I am officially looking for a job in France, I have officially applied to the carpentry school (which is currently full, so I should seek other schools or other things to do in the meantime while I am on the waiting list).
Next steps : Driving school (yeah been there, done that, but the government will pay for almost all of it, and I haven’t driven these petit European streets before…), job hunt (as there is nothing else left to hunt in this land where nature has become, save for places of highest altitude and a few parks, totally humanized). Monday I begin my two weeks volunteering with a carpenter. We all agree it will be good for my anxious head, and I know it will be good for my body.
One aspect of my life that hasn’t been compromised by my psychosomatic, childhood traumatic miss my daddy, or the relentless, severely obese, readily accepted although grunted about here and there French bureaucracy is my sexual performance and my ability to help maintain a harmonious relationship largely liberated from traditional sexist roleplaying. The ability to observe sensations equanimously during pleasurable experiences gets a big WORK IN PROGRESS stamp.
My digestion and diet has improved. I used the ten day retreat to develop some serious self-discipline around diet. Two meals a day. Max three ladels full of oatmeal and two fruits per breakfast. Maximum 1 plate of food for lunch. After Day 1, absolutely no bread, dessert, sugar, fried food, dairy, or caffeine. The only sugar, actually, is that in fruits and that in honey, which I ingested liberally for my various symptoms of a common cold. Since returning on Sunday, I have kept a strong determination to not ingest caffeine or sugar, very little bread and cheese, and to not overeat. It is fantastic to walk away from every meal and still be able to comfortably eat more, and to be able to lie down without feeling crappy immediately after a meal.
I have discovered a few white hairs. It confirms that I, too, have been running towards death since I was born.
I know, the title of this blog is about sustainability in Europe, and before you judge this blog as falsely advertised, remember all those novels who have all that pre-climaxic detail that bores the readers of a lesser caliber of patience and persistence, reserving the real good meat and potatoes and blissful dessert for those readers who deserve to distract their minds from their lives, from their bodies. Un desserte sans cafféine, sans sucre…
Cheers,
Maurizio
I apologize for the long absence.
The retreat was very difficult, meaning it was very good. My back was persistently sore, in one area for 35 hours, and then the pain moved to another area for another 35 hours. It was not directly related to sitting unsupported with a straight back for all these hours, it was other, less obvious reasons. The first 3 days the pain was centered between my shoulderblades, and it was undoubtedly related to the issue with my cerebellum, the membrane surrounding my brain and spinal cord. It has been on and off tight and sore for a few years, and I started to notice it when I started to practice Yoga. How did it happen ? It could have been related to the hit I took playing tackle football without gear from the 210 pound Armenian’s head which contacted my heart region and drove me straight into the ground. The osteopath did a bit of this and a bit of that and said perhaps all the problems in this body are caused by this imbalanced cerebellum, pointing to the C1 on my spine as a source of disalignment, along with the parts of my skull behind and below my ears. Apparently he realigned my body, and I assume all the pain during the practice was the hangover effect (or karma) of me overstretching this membrane with frequent intense neck and trapezius and spine stretches, coupled with serious back workouts on the farm. The pain then migrated to the right side of my middle back, and felt as if it was a rib problem, which was contacting my lung. This I don’t have a story for, but of course I can make up a story (I can do that). It is not the side which is directly behind the point of aggressive football impact, that place has had pain inbetween the shoulderblade and spine on and off since I started working physically hard. So what is it on the right side ? It is surely psychosomatic, and so it is exciting. I really tried hard to keep long stretches of nothought, and was quite successful, I don’t know how many 1 minute bursts of mind totally preoccupied with bodily sensations I pulled off. Nothing compared to the 5 second bursts, but still, an improvement overall.
It was Stephanie’s first sit, and she said she found it very valuable, and not as hard as she would have previously imagined. It was interesting to see eachother again after the ten days. First contact was very shy and timid. We managed quite easily not to touch eachother or communicate lust or attachment for the whole tenth day. As we drove home, I told her how nothing mattered, when considering possible futures, that seemed to matter before, such details as what sort of land and countryside and projects and travels. This was where my big suppressed thing was moving around inside, and I totally misinterpreted it.
The next day, bright and early, to the acupuncture/osteopath lady. I had been fatigued after hardly 12 hours a day, easily cold, mentally exhausted. Steph’s dad suggested there was a problem with my energy, and that I see this well-renowned doctor in the area. I lied down on her patient’s bed and she poked and prodded a bit. She proceeded to make me more transparent than perhaps I have ever been able to by my own efforts, and any other guru or meditation master has been able to.
« The winters here are particularily humid. Your energy is very contracted, hardly reaches beyond your skin. This is why you are so cold. »
«You’re problem is that you
«You’re problem is that you’re mind is disconnected from your body, and busily preoccupied with the future. You are afraid, and so you make too many plans in your head for possible future outcomes. » (I begin to think to myself how ironic this is, the doctor says that my main problem is the same problem that I have tackled day after day for years, believing that I was quite adept at managing this human problem. My self-image rears its ugly head as it is hit with a hammer.)
«You are exhausted and are having psychosomatic reactions to these flurries of the mind. People who have this anxiety problem usually cope with it in two ways, either they turn to some addiction like smoking, chocolate, alcohol, or they subvert it into a metabolic transformation. »
«You had a radical change in your energy body when you were around eight or nine. Then again when you were around seventeen. » (My mind races back to the hazy history of my preteen years. This is just a few years after my parents divorced and my mom brought my brother and I to Canada. Around seventeen is when I finished high school. Big changes, surely could cause anxiety.)
«You’re energy is working here (she points to a certain region of my body). Now it is working here (another region). You seem to have a problem with your throat gland (I forget the scientific name).
(All of a sudden, I put two and two together and realize the symptoms I experienced at eight and seventeen were metabolic. I started to become overweight around the former age, and then mysteriously lost fifty pounds around seventeen and entered the range of normal weight. It was surely a reaction to anxiety, which was a reaction to my parents’ divorce, and being so far away from my father year after year, seeing him only 1 month a year.)
«The events surrounding these energetic events and the possible causes are not important. It is what the body did energetically that is important. » (Sadhu, sadhu, sadhu.)
(ego having been hit with a hammer, make it a sledgehammer, with my high pain tolerance and brawniness. I began to want to cry, but tears didn’t flow. I thought about my practice, doubted it’s effectiveness, doubted my teacher’s wisdom. Was blown away at how deep and thorough this energy imbalance is. Moreso, how adept I became at supressing it, convincing myself and thus others that I had the present moment no worries thing down pact. I had a master’s degree in it. Master’s degrees mean nothing. However here in France, people haven’t caught onto the realization that academic feats are not correlated positively or correlated at all in most cases with real-world professional performance. I had a brief, weak, barely conscious thought : all this inner work I have done all these years, regardless of my significant self-delusions, has brought my deeply rooted imbalance up to the surface finally, and with the help of a doctor I recognized it, realized that I had been experiencing the weather anomalies it has been causing in my body, finally !)
«I have helped to effectively reprogram your head so that you will stay more in the present. (Ummm, what are you, Dr. Frankenstein ? !) For the next three weeks, you will continue to have fatigue, and the head chatter and fear will perhaps increase. After this period you will have a great shift in your energy. Is it possible to meet again in six weeks ? (hmmm, I am skeptical, Goenka and others said you have to liberate your mind yourself. Let’s see, and try not to turn this into a grand case of placebo effect, either. I am wary of the power of suggestion.)
(Actually, whether it is placebo or not, if this big change takes place, it doesn’t matter the cause. This is the pragmatic, Chinese view of things, and for me it is supreme.)
And, since then, the French paper grind has continued. I had a flash of insight now as I am writing this as to the cause of the mass deforestation of France. I am now officially able to work in France, I have health insurance officially, I am officially looking for a job in France, I have officially applied to the carpentry school (which is currently full, so I should seek other schools or other things to do in the meantime while I am on the waiting list).
Next steps : Driving school (yeah been there, done that, but the government will pay for almost all of it, and I haven’t driven these petit European streets before…), job hunt (as there is nothing else left to hunt in this land where nature has become, save for places of highest altitude and a few parks, totally humanized). Monday I begin my two weeks volunteering with a carpenter. We all agree it will be good for my anxious head, and I know it will be good for my body.
One aspect of my life that hasn’t been compromised by my psychosomatic, childhood traumatic miss my daddy, or the relentless, severely obese, readily accepted although grunted about here and there French bureaucracy is my sexual performance and my ability to help maintain a harmonious relationship largely liberated from traditional sexist roleplaying. The ability to observe sensations equanimously during pleasurable experiences gets a big WORK IN PROGRESS stamp.
My digestion and diet has improved. I used the ten day retreat to develop some serious self-discipline around diet. Two meals a day. Max three ladels full of oatmeal and two fruits per breakfast. Maximum 1 plate of food for lunch. After Day 1, absolutely no bread, dessert, sugar, fried food, dairy, or caffeine. The only sugar, actually, is that in fruits and that in honey, which I ingested liberally for my various symptoms of a common cold. Since returning on Sunday, I have kept a strong determination to not ingest caffeine or sugar, very little bread and cheese, and to not overeat. It is fantastic to walk away from every meal and still be able to comfortably eat more, and to be able to lie down without feeling crappy immediately after a meal.
I have discovered a few white hairs. It confirms that I, too, have been running towards death since I was born.
I know, the title of this blog is about sustainability in Europe, and before you judge this blog as falsely advertised, remember all those novels who have all that pre-climaxic detail that bores the readers of a lesser caliber of patience and persistence, reserving the real good meat and potatoes and blissful dessert for those readers who deserve to distract their minds from their lives, from their bodies. Un desserte sans cafféine, sans sucre…
Cheers,
Maurizio
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