In Shock

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Here's something I wrote a few months ago after I witnessed a nasty road accident. Funny how all I wanted to do was document it right away. It's a bit muddled because of it, but an interesting experiment for me...


I want to see what it will come out like if I write while I am in shock. I have never had the chance before. I was close to home at the time of shock, with two hours to be alone except for the sound of the lawnmower outside, which is pissing me off and disturbing any capacity I have (limited) of calming myself into tranquility. I want to ignore it but I can’t. I can hardly breathe, although I am forcing myself to take a deep breath here and there. Mostly I notice I am holding my breath, there is resistance to inhaling, of breathing into the experience that shocked me. They’ll be done mowing soon enough I suppose. The smell of cheap and chemical-laden laundry soap wafts through my summer windows too, I don’t like living here.

On the busy, dangerous intersection, where I have been amazed to never witness an accident, because it is actually a constant accident waiting to happen on that corner, I just saw a man knocked off his motorbike. I heard the smash, looked in my rear view mirror and saw him and his bike spinning across the middle of the intersection, all wrong. I couldn’t pull over where I was so I took a moment to turn around, park, go to him. By now, someone had called the emergency folk, a man trying to help everybody, sweet, very panicked, running around with his cell phone, taking charge. Two cyclists were also in shock, were standing near him looking blankly at the road, willing the ambulance to come. He was writhing in pain on the ground, no-one near him.

I went straight to him, smiled and said ‘hey’ as I knelt down. He responded with a flicker of hope in his face, he looked at my eyes and I felt that he knew that I was help. He was covered in blood, clutching one shoulder, writhing to try and be comfortable. He could not breathe this pain, grimacing, scared, looking for help, crying out, his leg kept straightening out in rigid spasm with his shocks of pain. His ribs, his back, his shoulder, it all hurt so much. Some wounds to his head too, bright red blood, over most of his upper body and dripping down his face. I asked him if I could put a hand on him for comfort (I actually said that, for comfort). I put one hand on his right hip, a place that I somehow just knew would soothe, would allow him to be still for a second, allow him to take a breath. Only 5 seconds I had my hand there, he was finally still for those 5 seconds, by which time the police man had arrived and taken over. I moved aside in full respect.

I watched as the police guy acted tough. He too had a good sense of where to hold to keep this man still, but he did not have the effect of calming him, asking him what happened, what hurt and what his name was. Telling him he needed to keep still “ you need to keep still Don, if you’ve hurt your back you’re going to make it even worse by moving” “it hurts like a motherfucker Don, I know, but the paramedics are coming, you gotta keep still Don, keep still Don” “I’m not trying to hold you down Don, just trying to keep you still Don”. Don is trying to keep still, trying to take comfort, but he is writhing.

I am bold enough to get back down to the ground, over Don’s spasming body and ask very quietly and gently if the police guy would like me to be with Don while he went across the street (he wanted to go over there, needed to speak to the lady with the vehicle who pulled out and hit this guy). He looked at me with no eyes. I can’t explain it any better than that. He did not even want to acknowledge my existence there, in front of him. I was double bold and, although I did not touch Don again (the police man was doing this, Don was struggling, he just needed to move. I trusted Don more than I believed he was doing himself harm. It was incredible to see Don get himself naturally in the positions he needed to be in to ease the pain, shifting, moving, working with it), I put my hand 6 inches from a spot on his back that I knew was contorted, wanted to soothe it. A few seconds later, Don, very firmly, and in a calm but raised voice said to the police officer,‘let go of me, I need to go on my side’. Police man allowed it, knew he was serious. The paramedics arrived, I felt it was ok to go.

The cyclists still shocked, ignoring. I said quietly to them, “are you guys ok? That was a shocking thing to see?” They both broke out of their shock for a split second, I saw recognition and glimmers of smiles, relief, but not really. I walked away slowly, shaking, feeling helpless, feeling strong too, knowing my place. My hand was over my heart, eyes staring, quivering inside, no thought.

I came home. I called my friends until one picked up. I needed to talk my shock over a bit. I paced my house, head to one side, no feeling, adrenaline coursing, holding my own hand, hands clasped gently in front of my left shoulder. Sat, rocked, cried, strange breathing pattern, lightheaded.

In the moment, in the moment, in the moment. Nothing else matters. That man got hurt, that man needed comfort and love, I did the most I was allowed to do. I wanted to do more, but I was afraid of breaking the rules. Maybe next time I would be more sure of myself. Just the look of relief I saw on his face when I smiled and said ‘hey’, that’s all there is. That’s what I was there to do.

random

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Like the snow she had seen early this morning, untouched and pretty, she starts with this blank canvas. No need for correct grammatical use of past, present, future, it’s all the same here. Not sure what to write, she watches curiously as her fingers work gracefully and without hesitation to write what she assumes her mind is telling them to write. But why then, are they moving faster than her mind? No conscious thought, that is, no interpretation. She realizes that with our incessant interpretation of what is, we destroy ourselves. What is there? There really is nothing.



The ultimate in challenges lies ahead, always, now that she knows this she cannot ignore it and cannot fear it. How to live in this culture that is so alien to natural patterns of existence and stay true to ones natural self? To simplify herself as the world around her engages itself in a blindfolded frenzy to get somewhere else, fast.

A scene starts to paint itself on the paper, a desert settlement, an earthy people whose faces tell stories of depths of life we can’t imagine. Deeply dusty homes, women sit cross-legged on the earth, making flatbread, just being.

(she gets a text from a friend, who is sick of it always being on his terms, always his way. She responds ‘do it YOUR way honey!’ and returns to the desert.)

She’s yearning, yearning, yearning for this place to be, this place where nothing else is required. Nothing.

(‘ I’ve never done that before, it’s fearful…’ comes the text.)


It’s fearful. It’s full of fear. The way we live is full of fear. We fear the other person, what they might do to us, what they might require from us or take from us. We fear looking bad, feeling bad, being bad. We fear not obtaining things, we fear losing everything, we fear failure, we fear success.

Mostly we fear what will happen if we just let go of our fear, and of the notion that we could be in full control of our surroundings and the other people around us.

seriously, i'm only joking...

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A friend of mine emailed to say it’s good to be single from time to time, so we can check in with our own inner hotel reception. I fell in love with that phrase, it made me smile!

I have started a joke with him now, that we will write a bestselling (in-a-self-help-stylee) book, possible name ‘COMING HOME… checking in with our own inner hotel reception’ or some such.

I had already had a fleeting thought this week, that I could quite probably write a pretty decent self-help book (if I weren’t such a literary and spiritual snob… sorry, but some of them are so bad).

Perhaps I can make a few million easy dollars, bonus if it helps some people work something out for themselves…

Anyhow, I think we will have a quite a bit of credibility between us if we ham it up a little, he is a warm and hilarious (in a very surreal, English, eccentric kind of a way) astrologer, I am a the healer/childbirth hippy chick. We’ll ham up the English intelligent-yet-eccentric aspects of ourselves whilst delivering a thoroughly ‘proper’ spiritual contribution.

All I have to do now is ponder the content of said self-help offering...

What will it help with?

-Not being able to find our own inner hotel? Even with several different maps and a treasure hunt to guide us on our way?

-What to do when you arrive at your own inner hotel reception (been traveling your whole life to get here) and nobody comes to help you?

-Curiously exploring our own inner hotel reception area. (is there a vending machine, for example?)

-Decorating your own inner hotel reception. (This one I like. I’ve just had a bit of a renovation and clear out of mine – although, because I didn’t have my own future bestselling book to guide me, I just thought I was having more peaceful days than before)

-our own inner hotel reception as heaven?

-seriously


Thank you for allowing me to indulge my fanciful sillies this evening,
katie

chai wallah and luminary

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I have been neglecting my blogpage lately. Well, there's been a lot going on. I suddenly find myself part owner of an incredibly sweet new shop in Louisville, which sells beautiful things made by local artists.

While we were busy getting the shop ready to open (painting the walls gold mostly) lots of people (mostly men - we are 4 women) told us that we were very brave opening a shop in this climate. yeah, i guess it is warm and dry, but we didn't see why that made us brave ;) But seriously, we think it is the perfect kind of shop for these troubled economic times. People seem to agree, customers love the shop and love to know that their money doesn't support unethical practices, rather that they are supporting their community.

So, at the shop, I sell my other new venture - Chai Wallah Chai.... It is so delicious I can hardly believe it. It is not for the lazy, convenience-addicted among us. It is a dry blend of all organic, fair trade ingredients, and yes, you have to brew it up yourself. It is based on a traditional Indian Masala Chai recipe, and feedback thus far is goooooooood! It is chai for the chai lover for sure. Do I sound proud? I am!

I'm getting ready to take it to a really good coffee shop in Boulder who showed interest when I was first developing it.

Yay for doing what you want in life!
See random recommended sites for links to new websites!

more reasons to love Michel Odent... he just puts it so well

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Can Humanity Survive the Safe Cesarean?

Human beings react differently from other mammals to interference with the birth process. When delivery of non-human mammals is disturbed, the effects are immediate and easily detected. For example, when animals give birth by c-section or with an epidural, the general rule is that the mother is not interested in the baby. Among humans, on the other hand, we need extensive statistics to detect what are mere tendencies and risk factors. These are much more complex in our species: We speak and we create cultural milieux. In certain situations, particularly in the perinatal period, human behavior is less directly under the effects of the hormonal balance than the effects of the cultural milieu. For example, a human mother knows when she is pregnant and can anticipate maternal behavior, while other mammals must wait until the birth when they release a flow of love hormones to kindle their attachment to their newborns.

Today, we understand that to have a baby, a woman—like any other mammal—has been programmed to release a cocktail of love hormones. Today the number of women who actually "give birth" to babies and placentas thanks to this hormonal release is ever-decreasing. First, because many women give by birth by cesarean. Second, most of those who give birth vaginally receive pharmacological interventions. Unfortunately substitutes block the release of the natural hormones and do not create the same behavioural benefits. We have to wonder what will happen, in terms of civilization, if this trend continues in future generations. Can humanity survive the safe cesarean?

— Michel Odent
Excerpted from "The Future of Obstetric Technology," Midwifery Today, Issue 85

Skills trades, thrift store shopping, freecycle, recycle.... I tell you, it's the way forward

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I just think it's the way the world should work. It's the way it used to work before corruption, and the way it still works in some cultures. Trading skills and services is the way forward (seems that all the ways forward are also ways back to a better time).

I am a member of Skillshare Network, a local branch of a nationwide, nay, worldwide Skills Trade Organisation. In my local network we have 100+ members, offering a range of services and skills. For each hour given, a member earns one Time Dollar. That time can then be 'spent' with any of the other members, for any offered service. Members can earn hours by helping the network (publicity, outreach, distributing fliers, office duties etc) and can also earn a time dollar for each hour of volunteer work they do in the community at large.

I offer Bowen work. Over the years I have received legal advice, healing work, computer advice, time spent in a cabin in the mountains, had my dvd player fixed, had someone help me to clean a friends house, and today I am inspired to write this because I received a wonderful acupuncture treatment. None of this I would have been able to afford to pay real money for, but that is not the reason I love it so much. I meet wonderful, like-minded people, who are willing and excited to share their skills and connect with their community, and that includes people who do have enough money to buy these services. What is so wonderful is that no-ones time is worth more than anyone elses. The lawyer gets one time dollar for his legal advice, the woman with a truck receives one time dollar for her help transporting a large item from one end of town to the other, the person who knows about computers gets one time dollar for his one hour spent explaining to me over the phone how to move my documents from one computer to another. (How many lawyers have you met who would do this? I once tried to explain the concept to a colleague who was interested in joining. She was a student of graphic design. In the end she didn't want to join because her time was worth $200 an hour so she couldn't reconcile that with what she would receive in return. This is our current mentality as a society, and one that I don't believe serves us well)

Outside of skillshare I have come to love informal trades with anyone I meet who is up for it. I have traded Bowen work for childcare, more Bowen work, massage, coffee shop vouchers, personal Pilate's sessions, private Tai Chi classes, Bob Dylan tickets...!

I don't have much money, but even if I ever do, I still want to live this way, in fact I just want to live this way more and more. And really, there is nothing stopping us because here is something we can really all do at grassroots. There are some things we will still have to pay money for, and those will be the things that are governed by corruption (first example that comes to mind, gas..). But in large part, I believe that with just a small shift in awareness of what is possible and a shift away from our consumer society where monetary value is equated with personal value, we could all be creating communities that support us and nourish us instead of separating and lining the pockets of corporations. That separation from the whole, that 'independence' which allows us to spend our money without dependence on individuals in our community, comes at great cost to our true independence, our freedom to live consciously and in harmony with those around us.

Our Sacred Earth

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This is my feedback as a letter to the group of women I gathered with in the mountains for a wonderful afternoon of connecting with Nature and Spirit and Selves...

Hello All,

This is what I wrote yesterday (Sunday) when I saw that it was raining! It's a bit rambling... apologies!

It was wonderful to meet and re-meet with you all, thank you!


Looking at the rain today, hoping that it will stay, and be the soaking rain we prayed for. I'm sitting in a coffee shop, listening to Scott and friends making nice music. People are running quickly to their cars to avoid getting wet. I just had to get outside in my bare feet and stand in the rain! It would have been so wonderful to attract even more confused looks by having yesterday's group all be out there with me in the parking lot, doing a happy rain dance!

I really enjoyed out time together at Bonnie's beautiful home and surrounded by untouched nature.

Bonnie, I love your style of leading a group. The time we had flowed effortlessly from one thing to the next, and there was great balance between the thought and heart you put into planning, and your ability to allow spontaneity. You didn't try to squeeze too many 'activities' into our time, allowing for deeper connection with what we did do, with nature, with ourselves and with the group as a whole in nature.

There is something very perfect/transcendent about women gathering in nature. Reminding ourselves of our goddess nature, that we are one with everything else. That beauty and power is something I've only been able to open up to over the past few years. It's something I've always known, but never thought I could feel, something that other women (the ones I admired!) could feel. i still have to push myself to seek these experiences of connection with other women, yet I do it more and more as I wise up to what is good for me and for the Universe. I start to take responsibility for myself and for my own thoughts and actions. I take responsibility because I know that what I do counts. After years of feeling like an insignificant presence, I now understand, feel and take joy in just how significant I am, which is exactly as significant and divine as every other person.

Our gathering was another powerful reminder to me.

I loved connecting with the aspen (the flower remedy I have needed most over the years is aspen). I had such a strong sense of the trees accepting me/us and protecting us. The tree felt so very strong, so very spacious and so open, a reflection of what I can be in moments of meditation, peace, gathering, community. The work is to make those moments longer-lasting, more frequent and to bring them into all aspects of life..


Love,
Katie