a guide for the day.
“Question” by Deepak Chopra
a guide for the day.
“Question” by Deepak Chopra
This morning I woke up long after my alarm, caught in dreams of boathouses and water. Everything is a symbol, The Disappearance of the Universe, teaches. My body, birds, stars, the world. Just metaphors for a split mind trying to find God, even though it never left home.
Like in these dreams. As I deport from what I believe is the conscious, waking world into a sea of seemingly unconscious wonder, I never physically leave my bed. I am still home, my body cupping warm blankets, breathing.
It is the mind that wanders, the mind that projects.
It is the mind that creates and dreams.
It’s like an episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark, where the little girl walks through the mirror and gets stuck there, on the other side, where it looks like this side, but isn’t real, because it’s only an illusion of the original content. Where is she really?
Even this mind is a symbol, acting out a universe.
Even this mind is a mirror.
Where is she always?
I was wondering why every time I meditated, I see a purple, cloud-like light dance and change shapes against a charcoal, black background. Sometimes white specks of light even sprinkle through the black background, like a visual of Space. I looked it up, and some call it “The Violet Flame.” It is the highest color of healing, and specifically targets the pituitary gland.
I found out a few months ago that my insane hair loss and lack of energy was due to hypothyroidism. And it was because of the pituitary. Not the thyroid. Since I’ve been seeing my NaturoPath and taking supplements, my body has improved. But since I’ve been seeing my NaturoPath, taking supplements, and meditating, my body has accelerated its healing process. When I saw my NaturoPath yesterday, he was amazed by my health. I got to cut out three of the supplements I was taking, saving me close to $100. His only advice for me was to—get this—keep salting my food.
Purple is associated with the Third Eye chakra. Some believe that when it’s prominent in meditating that it simply means your Third Eye awareness is opening and swirling around. Deep into meditation (or, as deep as I have traveled), the purple color gets lighter, almost transparent, and trapezes into different shapes. Most of the shapes are circular, but sometimes that frame will freeze, like a still shot, and show jagged light, like a broken window. It is then that I see a dot of light deep into the distance of that purple. It is white—a perfect circle—behind the purple visions. Physically, all of this seems to take place in front of my eye region. It is as if another world is pushing at me, and I’m brushing up against its purple electromagnetic field, and the perfect white light is the substance beyond. It’d be like our sky.
Others have said that the purple I see is because I’m an “indigo child,” and that in meditation, I’m vibrating to my natural, “home” color, as one would return to their bed every night to let the body heal from its daily activity.
The other night, I saw a woman float by from the right side of my vision. Surrounded by purple, she appeared in a soft white. Her dress flowed out from her body, but not too far. She was faceless, yet had the profile of a face, with straight, glowing hair cut between the ear and neck. Upon seeing her, I jolted for a second. She was peaceful, though, and paid no attention to my shock. She slowly roamed across the left side of my vision like I wasn’t even watching her. And exited just the same.
The Yoga instructor at my apartment complex, a wonderfully blissful man named Demetri, is helping my roommate, Elizabeth, and me dive deeper into meditation. Elizabeth sees visuals immediately. In one meditation, we were told to say “shaa maah.” The sound evoked a pink and white rose in her mind. She relayed this to Demetri, and he said, “Pink and white, the colors of Friday.” Elizabeth said, “but it’s Thursday,” and he said, “No, the sun is down; it’s Friday.” In another meditation, we were told to say “shriingk.” She instantly saw the bud of the flower upon hearing it. Demetri said later that “shaa maah” resonates to an older group of people (I believe it was 30s?), and “shriingk” resonates to our age group. It was odd that Elizabeth visualized a full rose the first time and only a bud the next. When I heard “shriiingk,” it came inspired a different image. A sound image. One like a triangle being tapped softly and resonating outward from the left side of my mind down a long, invisible line that headed right.
During Yoga on Thursday, Demetri asked my boyfriend Kumar and I to focus on our navel, with our eyes closed. To go behind it, and walk into it like it’s a cave. Mine was warm and squishy. Womb-like. A quiet, cushioned place for peace. He said to focus on our solar plexus. To make a cave, and go inside. I didn’t know where that was; I imagined the place below my naval, where the ovaries are. (This is not the solar plexus; I was wrong!) Mine was busy. A workshop of activity. Cogs, and creative energy. Orange and industrial. There were others there, excited and bouncing around. He then told us to focus on our Third Eye. To go behind it, in the cave. This place was purple in the way that a cloudy, moonlit sky turns purple. I went inside, and it was a room with a small bed. I lied down on it, and rested. Demetri said to draw a line from our Third Eye cave down to the others. The activities and feelings in each were so different. But this line was connecting them. They were part of the same operation, just doing different parts, and simultaneously. I heard an “oomm” sound that expanded the line as wide as a ribcage. I opened my eyes, peaceful and in tact.
This is a late-night doodle, subconsciously inspired by the background noise and images of the movie, “The Mummy,” that my roommate and boyfriend were watching. It is one of those pieces that has no original direction but that comes to life, line by line. The outcome is not always aesthetically pleasing. (This image, for example, is certainly no beauty queen!) That’s the risk of creation—what comes out of you might be ugly.
Anyway, I am here to show how drastically different this image becomes when I use just one simple tool on Photoshop: curves.
Curves plays with lighting and dynamics. It is more involved than what I think of as its sister function, “Brightness/Contrast.” Curves allows one to pinpoint certain spots of the image to lighten or darken. It’s a fun tool.
What I really admire about the updated version is drama the Curves button created. I like the darkness. I like that it’s not an explosion of bright green, like the original. The whites look whiter. The darks look darker. I’m both terrified and intrigued. In a way, this Egyptian-alien-warrior-huntress is not just fierce, but sultry. She’s got a darker, deeper past and feels more trustworthy of secrets than the original. Perhaps because the original looks like she was trying to camouflage herself in the shallow parts of the forest; she’s young and innocent, trusting in what she hopes is the potential of herself, and her god, to be valiant. The second image understands the limits of her valor. She does not hide in the forest; she is the forest. It is the difference between an Aries and a Scorpio. An apprentice and a priest. Her tongue, cut like a snake’s, strikes only when the moon is new and vacant. No creature has seen her strength. No creature has witnessed her weakness. They listen for the stillness of the night, and know she is near, prowling.
Tonight is the full moon, and I believe in its powers. When plump and fully illuminated, it is the brightest force in the sky. It resembles completion of a step. It is a pregnant woman’s belly, just before birth. It is a clock that’s curved its way around, again, to noon.
No, the full moon does not make us crazy. Yet, I am crazy about the moon.
Most of my meditations, however, have surrounded the new moon, because it is a time of setting intentions. This time, I was drawn to a full moon meditation that involved free-handed drawing with colors that you associate with certain desires, or blockages, that you’d like to pay attention to in the next cycle.
As an avid doodler, colors and shapes are common ways I express my emotions. But when I tried to color-code the abstractions in my heart and mind, I felt uninspired.
I reverted to words: What did I want to see this month? What types of blocks did I feel? What should I open myself up to?
I made a list.
Balance of Yin/Yang
Health, Vibrant Energy
The list went on. These are things I “wanted” to embody. That, because I was yearning for them, meant I was lacking them.
Something in me said, “Wait a minute? Who says you don’t have joy? Who says you don’t make wise choices?”
I wrote “I am/I have” at the top of the page, above the list, and read off the “wants” using those words in front.
I have direction.
I am focused.
I have balance of yin and yang.
I make wise choices.
I make bold decisions.
I have bold expression.
I am fearless.
I am fun!
(Okay, that last one sounds like a cheesy self-help spoof. Stick with me!)
My mind switched gear, to a higher, exciting place. Suddenly, my list was growing.
I exude joy. I create loving energy. I am in-tune. I am responsible. I move with intuitive understanding.
I listen to the gods and goddesses. I open myself to the stars, to the cosmic kiss of the universe. I breathe in delight and exhale uncertainty. I provide for myself and others. I give my energy when I can; I reserve it when necessary. I love with an open, forgiving heart. I love and respect my body, as we grow together. I express sorrow, and other emotions, fully and healthfully. I am vulnerable and willing to dive deeper into my psyche, my friendships, and creativity. My relationship with myself is authentic and trusting.
This type of thinking led to another type of thinking: the preliminary, self-effacing warnings you might give to a new love-interest, business partner, friend, etc.
“Ack, sorry, I’m so clumsy!”
“Could you give me the proper address? I get lost everywhere.”
“Maybe you should figure out the tip; I’m no good with numbers.”
We say these things almost flippantly, to protect an insecurity, or laugh off our shortcomings. Yet, these mantras manifest, too. The more we feed them to others, the more we feed them to ourselves and establish a self-image that all translates to this: I am not enough.
You are. I am. Today, as the moon glows in Pisces, illuminate your “haves” and “ams,” and embrace your personal abundance!