The Irony of the Red Rug

At Poetry & Company in Kingston on Thursday night, I performed my latest piece, entitled "Rug". The poem is about the last home occupied by our entire family before my parents split up and my mother moved us kids out of the house:

the rich red rug
ran all through the house
upper middle-class opulence
a la 1974

it muffled the sound of your feet
creeping down the hall

(Edited for adult content)

it brimmed over with
her keening pathos
and your snarling invective

running through the house
barking and lascivious
the rich red rug
absorbed our family secrets
congealed them in wealthy prominence

so when your self-congratulating colleagues
came to walk upon it
with their Italian leather shoes
we stiffly wore our happy plastic grins
while rich red rage
rumbled beneath our feet

This poem is indicative of the contrast in our family between the rage buried in each of us and the successful, happy exterior we were expected to show the world. The luxurious, deep-pile rug, which cloaked the floor of the entire house, save for the kitchen and laundry room was symbolic of this cover-up. In the 70's, such wall-to-wall carpeting was associated with wealth and, therefore, well-being.

Today, many of us would tear the rug out, knowing it off-gasses toxins of its own and harbours impurities. I think about that rug and the poison it carried from a deeply unhappy and violent family. I hope that the homeowners who came later had the good sense to rip it out.

However, with Father's Day approaching, I don't remember just the unhappiness, but the intelligence of my father, how hardworking he has always been, his artistic ability, his sense of humour, and the way I felt special as a very young girl, cuddling with him while he watched sports on TV, or the way I thrilled to the horror stories he read to me (at an age when I probably shouldn't have been privy to such tales, but they fueled my interest in the macabre in general and the works of Poe in particular).

I think it must be said that the ones who can inflict great pain upon us can also be the ones who teach and inspire us. From both of my parents, I got my drive, my intelligence, and artistic abilities that find their way into my writing, dancing and singing.

It is healing to remind myself that my parents are complex beings, and that there is nothing black and white about their behaviour. Just like me, they've sought to end their suffering - and as humans, we don't always choose a path to happiness that is kind to others. May they both have joy in their lives today. I wish they knew that they have a daughter who still loves them, even if it must be from afar.

Mask Work - Swimming in the Subconscious

I'm standing before Jacob James, actor and director with the Stratford Theatre, who is graciously taking time from his busy schedule to teach a series of acting classes at the Wellington Street Theatre in Kingston.

I'm new to acting, but not to energy work or tapping into the subconscious, so this feels like familiar ground. With a few preliminary instructions on the sacred art of mask work, he has me don a white mask and slip into a scenario that takes me on a journey into my own mind.

Placing the mask over my face, I close my eyes, and lie down on the floor. Breathing into the mask, I awaken and find myself on the shore of a vast ocean. Walking into the water, I find myself going deeper, ever deeper, and yet able to breathe in the water. I've been instructed to find a gift and see an animal and then fall back to sleep.

As I descend lower, I can feel my limbs become lighter, bobbing with the current. Soon, I notice a Venus flytrap (no matter that they do not exist at the bottom of the ocean - this is my dream). Prying open one of the pods, I find a pearl. I hold it in my hand and relish its glow as it catches the light from above the waves.

Suddenly, a large snake appears. I stroke its head and body as it coils around my waist, drawing me down to the sandy ocean floor where I fall asleep.

It's quite astonishing when we completely let go what we experience of our own mind, whether in an acting scenario, meditation, a Holotropic breathwork or other practice designed to open us to our inner terrain. When we really allow, all kinds of interesting imagery will arise. Why a snake, a Venus flytrap, a pearl? That is for me to ponder at my leisure.

Even more interesting to me is how the brain can generate the environment and objects in the scenario with mere prompting and my willingness to access the subconscious without editing its input.

As I continue to read "The Brain that Changes Itself", I'm astonished at learning how much of our perception is based on the way our brain works - and the choices we make in terms of perception. In his book, Norman Doidge MD writes about an experiment conducted by V.S. Ramachandran, who works to help amputees resolve "phantom pain", which is pain felt in limbs despite the fact that they are no longer there.

In this experiment, Ramachandran asked volunteers to put their right hand under a table while he simultaneously stroked and tapped the hand and the tabletop. This activity caused their brains to associate the tabletop as part of the body (to learn more about brain maps and how they do this, read the book). Then, he smashed the tabletop with a hammer and watched the stress levels of the volunteers skyrocket (measured by instruments to which they were attached). He discovered that the brain determines whether people register pain, and that altering participants' sense of reality (by getting them to associate the tabletop with the body) can influence their experience.

I find this particularly interesting given that I used meditation and self-hypnosis during my last two labours to circumvent the pain process. I suspect few doctors have seen women calmly sitting in a lotus position in hard labour indicating, "I'm ready to push now." The staff were so surprised, they actually placed me on a gurney in that sitting position and wheeled me to the operatory for the birth of my third child. With my ability to bypass the pain process, my husband and I were able to conduct the fourth birth at home by ourselves.

The brain's capacity to create our experience and our ability to consciously determine that experience continues to amaze me. Though we cannot control the external world, we can determine how we will respond to it, and thus influence whether we benefit or suffer as a result.

Lucid Dreaming

I'm running down a hallway, having just demanded that the woman I was handcuffed to be locked away. I then sequester myself in a private cell, safe for the moment. The woman in the dream is actress Patricia Arquette who stars in the TV show, Medium. Later in the dream, I'm writing down on a pad of paper the sentence, "What keeps you going?"

It's 4 a.m. and I'm writing down this dream on the pad I keep by my bed. As a lucid dreamer, I'm able to make decisions in the dream state, and to remember my dreams with greater clarity than normally available to the dreaming mind.

Having analysed my dreams since childhood, I'm clear on the meaning. I had been considering a change in focus to my career that would cut me off from my intuition (represented by the actress from Medium) and also limit my creativity severely (putting me in a cell in the dream) by playing it safe. My subconscious painstakingly wrote out the sentence it wanted me to consider carefully. As anyone knows who dreams lucidly, writing something down in the dream state can be hard work, since letters seem to move and shift with the tide of the human mind.

I was a teenager when I first picked up a book on the subject of lucid dreaming, written by Stanford University professor, Stephen Laberge. My dream recall (I can still remember dreams I had when I was eight years old) has often rivalled my memory of waking life, and I'd learned early on how to be completely present in the dream state in order to make conscious choices as to how I reacted - including waking myself just before being trampled by a wooly mammoth!

Laberge's techniques deepened and extended my ability to stay conscious to the point that I learned how to slip into dream imagery and out again without losing consciousness. More than a parlour trick, knowing how to maintain awareness in the dream state means getting the most out of the information that your subconscious has to offer.

Historically, dreams have given forewarning and inspiration to the recipients. Elias Howe invented the needle on the sewing machine based on a dream he had of savages attacking him with spears. Each spear had a hole in the tip, thus giving him the solution as to how the needle should be threaded.

Tibetan buddhists use dreams for spiritual development, with the aim to realizing enlightenment in the dream state.

My dreams have proven useful over the years, providing direction on practical and spiritual matters. It seems a shame that so many of us spend a considerable amount of time sleeping and never utilize the dream state to its full extent.

To improve your dream recall, here are a few tips:

1. Keep a pad of paper by your bedside and write down your first impressions in the morning before you get out of bed. Record images, emotions, phrases that pop into your head - even if they seem nonsensical. Doing this signals to your subconscious your willingness to hear what it has to say. Over time, you'll get more information. Today, my recall often involves writing down as many as seven dreams in the morning in considerable detail.

2. Tell yourself as you fall asleep that you will remember your dreams. Your subconscious is open to suggestion and will offer more information as you persist with this affirmation.

3. As you start to fall asleep, stay aware of the images that arise. Notice when the things you see appear to be dream imagery rather than what you would expect to see in waking life. Tell yourself, "I'm dreaming." It will help you to stay conscious in the dream state.

Dreams are doorways to a rich inner terrain that offers guidance and ideas the waking mind is too busy to realize. Plumb your mind for the treasure it has to give. Dream.

Searching the Shadow

It's 2:30 a.m. and I've finished a thorough housecleaning I felt inspired to begin at midnight. The need for order overwhelmed me. Tidying up was also a vain attempt to sweep away thoughts that arise in the wee hours, that time when the world is quiet and we have no distraction from our shadow self.

It's then that it's most tempting to dissolve into sleep, ignoring the unfinished business of the psyche. Yet, this uninterrupted period is when we can best confront what we wish to ignore about ourselves: our pettiness, our inconsistencies, our fears and reactive indulgences. Honesty reigns when there is no one to rescue us from ourselves.

Take time on occasion to embrace the hours after midnight, to sit with your demons and discover the treasure beneath the dross of the human mind. Beneath the bullshit we feed ourselves to prop up our egos, there lies pure truth. Within, we find the Observer who never thinks to wear the tired costume of identity, role, and plot. The Observer simply is, with no need to impress or further one's aims. If you can forget the ego for a moment and dwell in the Observer, I guarantee you will find a simple sense of peace, a recognition that all is as it should be, a connection to the benevolence that permeates everything.

It's only when we stop running away from our shadow and sit with it until it dissolves that we know ourselves to be the Observer, that we know peace.

Trusting that Still Small Voice

It's not always easy, listening to our intuition. One of the reasons that people often don't pay attention to the still, small voice within is that it will tell them to do things that counter decisions the rational mind has made.

It's the ego-oriented mind that tells us to play it safe, go along, compromise - even when it's not ultimately in our best interest. The ego wants to preserve what is, since the status quo is where it has anchored its identity. The ego is all about maintaining itself - often at the cost of our well-being and happiness.

The intuitive mind lives in the moment, ignores the ego's suppositions about what is known, and occasionally acts in ways that confound egoic logic. Our intuition has access to information that the rational mind does not, which is why it can demonstrate knowledge without derivation.

If we listen to that inner voice, we may find ourselves making choices that seem illogical in the present or to the rational observer. Yet, it is the intuitive mind, tapping into universal consciousness that will take us to our ultimate happiness.

Anti-chaos theory suggests that there is no chaos - just a pattern too large for us to see close up. Intuition shows us the piece of the pattern most pertinent to us in the moment. If we have faith in our inner voice and act on the information it provides, gradually we will see the logic behind that information and the pattern into which we fit. It is only in retrospect that we will understand why it was correct to follow that hunch and trust our instincts.

The Perpetual Night Owl

Why do I find myself writing in the early hours of the morning? What prompts me to start cooking at midnight or decide to redesign one of my websites under cover of darkness? At 46 years of age, you'd think I'd heed the warnings that running on four hours of sleep a night isn't healthy for a body pushing middle age.

Still, there is a hunger to make useful most of the time that has been handed to me in this life. As a young child I feared death not because I saw it as an end, but because I envisioned myself lying in a box for eternity in a perpetual state of boredom. Ever the vivid dreamer, even my nights don't afford much quietude. Awake or asleep, my mind seeks refuge from inertia.

So I find myself seized at odd hours with poetic thoughts that must be documented, desires for eggplant lasagna that must be satisfied, and fears that my time is running out - even if I've 40 more years left.

I fight that ticking tyrant, will it to slow while I figure out who I'm going to be when I finally grow up - this 46-year-old who still feels like a kid on the inside (and most days on the outside, too). I console myself that many folks have made their mark late in life, and that there's still time for me to accomplish some great purpose.

Then, I remind myself of the many small acts I perform that make a difference to someone each day. I resolve to retire for the night... as soon as I water the plants, do a few loads of laundry, and take out the garbage destined for morning pick-up... four hours from now.

Brain Plasticity and the Dangers of "Rigid" Thinking

Reading about the plasticity of the human brain in "The Brain that Changes Itself" by Norman Doidge, MD, drives home the realization of the necessity for varied activity. It's not enough to do well at our usual tasks; we have to continually think outside the box. If we don't, we risk losing areas of the brain that could be devoted to a variety of functions to those that are most predominant.

A simplistic life literally leads to a simpler brain map. If we want to continue to grow new neural pathways, if we want to develop creative muscle and maintain our brains into later life, we have to recognize how clearly the adage "use it or lose it" applies to brain tissue.

We have become a pleasure-seeking society, often looking for the most comfortable route through life. We need to scare ourselves a little, take the path of most resistance, go out on the most tenuous limb. We need to attempt those very things we're least sure we can accomplish.

A friend of mine spent an entire year doing things she "sucked at". At the end of the year, she'd discovered some latent talents, but she'd also found many areas in which she remained unskilled. The great gift of this experience was the realization that her world didn't end when she failed at something. She became far more accepting of herself and appreciative of her own adventurous nature.

Young children seldom think about failure - until uptight adults suggest the possibility - and they have a lot of fun trying new things. If we can adopt the exploratory nature of children, we may benefit not only in our enjoyment of life but maintain healthy brains long into our old age and enhance our ability to traverse more deeply the great inner terrain of our minds.