Releasing Blockages

There is a lot of who-ha going around about “energy flow” and “blockages.” I don’t know what the H is going on with my root, throat chakra, or third eye. Am I living in the 3D, 4D, or the 5th state of consciousness? I don’t know the ins and outs of Mercury retrograde or how to interpret my natal chart, Aries Sun, Gemini rising, nor do I know which star system my soul is really from. I do know when I am feeling “blocked” or as if my energy flow is blocked, and when I am feeling stunted. I know the cure for this has always been writing. Writing and creative expression. It’s good for whatever ails you in my opinion, and at the moment, all of that other stuff can be what it is, so here I sit…writing.

Deep breath out, and to think this all started with meditation which was supposed to be about shutting down the mind and relaxing. However, in my experience, one can not take a deep dive into meditation or any self healing journey without all these other doors opening and presenting themselves. It’s a problem, and one I have to contend with.

According to the word on the street, this is all part of awakening, rising to Nirvana or whatever, which is not supposed to be comfortable. At least that is what “they” say and who are “they” and how did “they” become the experts? Who were the originators of these philosophical and metaphysical musings about higher realms and states of consciousness? Apparently, all philosophies on the energy system within the body, and/or the chakras came from old, ancient, Indian texts called the Vedas, and that is a blog post for another day. Also, I’m telling you, when I hear someone jump to other planets, I immediately jump to Scientology and I think about Tom Cruise jumping on a couch and say, “no thanks.”

I am often reminded of a happy little song that has come back into my life called Let the Mystery Be by Iris DeMent. My favorite version of this is by Natalie Merchant and David Byrne at The gist of the song can best be described in the chorus:

Everybody is a wonderin’ what and where they all came from
Everybody is a worryin’ ’bout where
They’re gonna go when the whole thing’s done
But no one knows for certain and so it’s all the same to me
I think I’ll just let the mystery be
I think I’ll just let the mystery be
-Iris DeMent

Okay, and here I go analyzing the chorus and relating it to life and its weird little nuances. Notice how the last two sentences, “I think I’ll just let the mystery be” repeat themselves. Also, this chorus is composed of individual letters arranged into words and spellings and how singing the words captivates an audience therefore words are “spells.” Songs are spells, poetry is “spelling,” speeches cast spells. When one says be impeccable with your word it generates a loftiness to words because words are literally spells, and if you don’t believe me, why are words used as propaganda or the lack of words, which we are witnessing in real time with Russia and Ukraine right now?

A repetition of words is even more powerful, for example, repetition with words has been used in catchy little jingles for advertising for eons. If you repeat something so many times, its likely to be believed eventually. A repetition of words is a mantra. It really has had me taking a deep dive into the words I say, the words I’ve said, and the words I’ve listened to even though my mind is not conscientiously aware of them. To be a writer or speaker of words comes with some “lofty” responsibility.

I contemplate words and flashing imagery as well, sound “bytes” etc. which seem to be the way of this new world we are living with scrolling and social media because it seems like with this mass overwhelm of information and processing of collective adversity that the masses are attuned to having the attention span of a squirrel. It’s all about the reels, the captions, the memes, the tweet, and the catchy little Tik-Toks now. Many influencers are now saying you can’t make or grow your business without a reel and to “just keep throwing them out there” into the void. It doesn’t even matter how menial or stupid they are, meet THIS quota, generate this many likes, defeat this algorithm, and I’m telling you it’s exhausting.

I just want to go back to the simple recipe of the song or the poem with the repetitions of the chorus. I just want to sit on the edge of the Grand Canyon and just look at that for awhile without the scroll or flashing imagery. I want to hear the same lapping of waves over and over again. I want to hear the ticking of a clock as I sit at a library table blowing the dust off of volumes, while hearing the sound of pages turning slowly. I want the steady beat of humming birds wings. So this is what I am learning is good therapy right now. Mindful repetition and a stillness of imagery.

If something brings peace, it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. I used to be a hospice worker, and the concept of hospice has changed from intervening to lovingly letting go and “trusting that the body knows how to die.” The less intervention the better because biologically the body knows how to die in peace and may even flood the body with euphoria to comfort itself if one doesn’t mess it all up with needless intervention.

I have recently been watching 1883. Ugh, it was a heartbreaker for sure. A stunningly beautiful heartbreaker, and I just want to thank whatever powers are at work that brought me this beautiful world of Taylor Sheridan in these trying times. The dialogue is stunning, the visual representations, and the dramatic scores. I strive to be like Taylor Sheridan. I’m caught in between this beautiful world of Westerns and Taylor Sheridan and my love for magical realism. So spoiler alert, do not read on if you don’t know the story of Elsa.

I thought it was sheer magic how Elsa has a moment of breaking fever, euphoria, and wellness, and how everyone sees this as a sign of better things to come while her father looks distant, broody, choked up, and soul crushed. Pain is leaving her, she’s even developed an appetite for bacon as she’s completely lost all sense of time and seems to have almost an other worldly awareness of her surroundings down to a single rabbit jumping across the prairie or the tiniest bird pecking at the ground. Elsa’s dad knows better, he has seen the foreshadowing of doom in the face of men from the Civil War.

I don’t know why I went on this 1883 Taylor Sheridan kick, but I see the despair in what I perceive to be an ending if society does not turn this boat around. Not to be a killjoy but the science on global warming is not good, the lack of hope I see in our young people who seem despondent at older generations who are apathetic to their demise as they look to them for saving is soul crushing, and current events in Ukraine and having nukes on high alert with a son who wants to go enlisted army is unnerving. My mother has suddenly became fragile from being decimated by Covid 19 and I feel so isolated from connections I once had with people I once loved, because I hardly know them anymore. It’s heavy, and everyone I know has a different version of how these times are playing on them. All stories are valid.

I do know, that what the world does not need is petty nonsense. I certainly do not need it. Recently I had to deal with a workplace exploitation that was so blatant and outlandish that I felt there was nothing more for me to do upon returning home than to nourish, rest, and waste a lot of time trying to detox from it. In essence, I was being framed in the workplace by someone whose intentions and framing were so methodical and cunning that I was completely gobsmacked. Even more surprising, was that the instigator of this sh*t show charade branded themselves under the banner of “love” and “light” and there were multiple targets.

I am feeling closure on this, but it was a reminder to me that bigger things impact the littler things, and that the little things are baked in with the big things, if that makes sense. I can’t change what is happening in Ukraine or the world at large, and I can’t even begin to offer some blanket statement that covers it and I’m completely aware of how what is happening with Ukraine is impacting transportation at home and how all things are connected. I have only found three particular pieces of mashed up words or “spellings” to be particularly anecdotal for me right now. You may have heard them already because I’ve seen them shared because…well… they are good, or at least they resonate.

First of all:

“Those who love peace must learn to organize as effectively as those who love war.” -spoken by Martin Luther King Jr.

“It can be overwhelming to witness/experience/take in all of the injustices of the moment; the good news is *that they’re all connected.* So if your little corner of work involves pulling at one of the threads, you’re helping to unravel the whole damn cloth.” -Ursula Wolfe Rocca.

THEN, I found this little recipe for well being that took everything down to the basics, because when things get overwhelming, it always helps to pull it back to the 101, and rebuild from there. This anecdotal recipe for well being basically went like this:

Gettin’ some D

“Befriend the sun, get dirt on your hands, drink water, eat plants, see the beauty of it all and know that you are nature, too.” -@motherhenshomestead.
The above recipe also calls for a little dash of this on the side too:

“…And if you should ever look up, and find yourself lost, simply take a breath and start over. Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place in your heart…where your hope lives. You’ll find your way again.” -@thehappyproject.

Simple Simon right? If only simple anecdotes covered everything. In trying times I have to trust that a soul knows what do do. Something will kick in and I have to trust that process, follow the crumbs of my inner musings, or whatever. Currently my prescriptions are my rocks, my music, movement, sunshine, and making sleep a priority. Basically I’ve having candlelight vigils with myself with my flora, fauna and my most treasured gem stones because they are grounding. I’m bringing earth’s energy in and setting the intention through mindful moments of solace and silent prayers to be a witness to travesty and to ponder the responsibilities that being a witness holds while trying my best to fight every urge to believe that wellness lies not within self entitlement and wallowing, but in community and connecting to those I can reach even thought I want to close in on myself like a Venus fly trap.

Silent vigil for Ukraine

I visited my ninety year old grandma the other day and her couch ate my phone. When I tore out her sofa cushions and pulled out her sectionals I realized that her feeble self could not manage the chaos of crumbs under the cushions, the lost pennies, and all the dust and cobwebs that had accumulated behind her furniture and in all the nooks and crannies in every corner of her house. Her walls needed a thorough washing in places where she could not reach, and I decided I’d be spending one day a week with her deep cleaning one room at a time.

There was nothing earth shattering in this that could save the masses across the way, but it sure beat helplessness and harnessing that stagnant energy into something doable to assist someone somewhere who was within my scope vicariously as a small form of honor, or to at least to honor some sense of humanity that I felt was unraveling. I’m realizing more and more that energy is energy. If resources are limited to perpetuate something hugely impactful from ground zero, one must catapult something within their current scope in hopes that all ripples will eventually overlap and that all things are inter connected. It is about intention and honor.

This has been my other anecdote in these trying times. When I’m shell shocked by current events, it is better to reach out to a neighbor than to stand there shell shocked and numb for those I have the limited capacity to assist directly.

I also want to say that two songs have been helpful for me right now. One is about conflict. There has been so much conflict with relationships, and how this current political climate has doused so many of these. I don’t know how to explain how a song about conflict can resonate so deeply, because it’s merely an ode to the struggle and looking inward for what is perceived to be the right, and if my perception is off, then please allow me to perceive the truth in it even if it defies my own will to be right. You can give it a listen here:

Another song that has really resonated has been about the differences between the masculine and feminine and forging an understanding between the two to forge solace. I like to listen to this while meditating with my hands open while allowing myself to feel both in unison without all the distortion. Such beautiful words. Such beautiful, inspired, spell casting with words sung from a live show in Amsterdam. Very powerful:

Anyway, I have spoken my peace for now, and have left you my dear readers, with these words, songs, and spellings. May you find many of your own, and may you cast a few out into the world that are mindful and impactful, because ultimately the words we speak and share come with hefty responsibility. All words are poetry and spells in action. I truly believe this.

Until next Post!

Rachelle Whiting

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