Fire and Water

Life would be so easy if it wasn't for the Ego. But that's the whole point. How can we learn and change without something to make us aware of all of our faults?

I could start this blog by telling you all about Kabbalah, about the New Moon of Aquarius event that I attended in London (with Karen Berg there in person, giving a wonderful, down to earth lecture on the energy of the month then leading a fantastically soothing meditation). I could tell you that the theme on the night was psychedelic - hippy, groovy vibes - and that despite the fact that I spent hours trying on different outfits to look the part, the only truly authentic seventies aspect of my person was my bikini line (okay, too much information, I know).

But no, I am currently more obsessed with my latest spiritual challenge. I'm carrying baggage. I don't want to carry baggage, but there it is. And for the last couple of months through the festive season, I stopped making the effort to connect. I looked at my Zohar every night and thought "I'll scan that tomorrow" and then never did. My depression got the better of me, thinking 'what's the point?' and 'what good will that do?' I lost my faith and I lost my commitment.

So I met with my teacher on Monday desperate for a solution, well aware of the fact that the only person who can make the changes is me. I did my best to calmly explain my predicament, with the intention of finding out what tools I could use. What should I scan? How much? How often? What should I be thinking when I scan? But before I could mention the Zohar, my teacher came up with the following advice:
Every piece of fruit has a shell, and when the fruit is growing, the shell grows first. If the shell didn't grow first, the fruit would be exposed to insects before it had a chance to grow. In the same way, every person has a shell which is added to by our life experiences. Our potential, our Soul, our Fruit, is always there, but can only be accessed by breaking through the shell.

He gave me a three step process:

1. Write down your 'shell story' e.g. every crap memory that is somehow causing me pain. Invest time and energy and emotion in recalling all of the details that you can. Use colour, use emotion, devote several hours to this task. Use the Time Travel Name of God meditation to help you recall information. Then take the paper to a quiet place and burn it, focusing on the intention of burning it from within. You are left with a blank piece of paper. A clean sheet. A fresh start.
2. Follow the Mikveh process which assimilates rebirth. Follow the list of meditations and go to the swimming pool (a natural body of water is best but not always possible) then immerse yourself (a total of eleven times). It works best when you are naked, although it is unlikely that you will be able to complete the process in a public pool, so a swimming costume is fine. The mouth and eyes should remain open when you immerse yourself.
   
3. Scan a particular portion of Zohar for one week, after midnight, asking for your true purpose to be revealed.

I left the centre feeling optimistic and thankful for having this meeting. It was just what I needed. And I was also grateful that my teacher asked me to tell him how each step of the process was going, because that way I knew I couldn't skip steps, take my time, or make it up. He gave me a week and a half to complete all three steps. Minus the week's worth of Zohar scanning, that leaves a few days to complete steps one and two.

But travelling on the train home, my sense of optimism started to turn in to fear. Firstly, there was doubt. What if it didn't work and I was no different than when I started? Well, I guess there is only one way to find out. Secondly, I knew that I would put off the process of digging up all of my emotions - it's not my idea of a good night in. And thirdly, I started to think about the realities of dunking myself under water in a public swimming pool whilst chanting Hebrew out loud. Everyone will think I am mad (okay, so they are not far off) but I also had visions of trying to complete eleven immersions with the life guards intervening to save my life. But I have to do this, and I don't really fancy explaining to my teacher what was taking me so long. My life is full of too many excuses already.

Anyway - part one of the process is nearly complete. I spent a few hours last night writing down all of my grievances and although it wasn't pleasant, I was so surprised at the little things I had buried that came to the surface once I really got in to it. And that has to be a good thing. And today I am going to re-read what I have written, get back in the zone, and then burn the paper (better to do this in daylight to prevent the fire brigade being summoned by diligent, well-meaning neighbours).

So I thought about preparing for part two, the Mikveh, and found a local swimming pool open to the public. I called them for more information.
"Is it just for yourself?" the receptionist asked. "We have half seven to half eight, and then half twelve to half one, and then again half seven to half eight in the evening". Planning to attend Friday Shabbat tomorrow evening only leaves the morning free to perform my public dunking.
"So which of these sessions would you say are the least busy?" I asked.
"Oh, the evening one", she replied "the other sessions get pretty packed - but I'm sure we can fit you in"
Oh great. That's just fabulous. Now I have an image of dunking under the water and coming up underneath someone doing the back stroke. The thought of performing this strange looking ritual in a public place is bad enough, but a crowded public place?

But maybe this could work in my favour too - perhaps I would be less conspicuous practising what could look like water confidence exercises in a busy pool, rather than it just being me and the life guards listening to my stumbling attempts at Hebrew....