Tummo-Inner Fire

I have recently started practicing Tummo, based on a book called ‘The Bliss of Inner Fire’ by Lama Yeshe. I do this after practicing Wim Hof breathing intermmittently for a few months. Meaning, I had already gotten started with the practices.

I have the need to write about my experiences. More as a personal log than as a poetic entry. I am not feeling very inspired to write, but I am writing nonetheless. Let’s see if this time I manage to keep it up.

Since I started reading the book, about three weeks ago (Inner fire on August 18th 2017),  I have been practicing a part of the meditations three to five times a week.

I  have also had a number of dream experiences which may or may not be related to the breathing meditations. My feeling is that they are indeed related.

I have a need to write a log about this, though I don’t feel like writing too much at the moment.

The first night that I read the book I fell asleep pondering about the mystery of the void. During those days I was attending a shiatsu seminar. Exploring the concepts of empty and full in perceptions of a patient’s body was part of the training. As I ‘slept’ I felt as though I fell into a void. I was still myself, and my body was still somewhat my body. All around me was full of nothing. I was floating in the nothing, and it was neither good nor bad. I was not conscious as I am in my waking hours, but I was not asleep as usual either. I wasn’t thinking, I only know that I wasn’t thinking because two or three times, I came out of it and had the thought ‘wow, I’m floating in a void without thinking’. I also had the feeling that it was hard to come out of it. In the morning I when I woke up to turn off my alarm I felt like I was in the middle of a very deep sleep. I usually have lots of dreams, so this dream, a conscious absence of thought or dreams was very unusual for me.

Another night I fell asleep while reading the book once more. That night I was reading about the representation of unity through the divine lovers, Heruka and his consort (clearly the book was written by a man). The book invites the reader to imagine herself as both male and female during intercourse, the joining of their energies represents unity. I had an amount of erotic feelings throughout the night, I could even say I had several orgasms. They were pulsing and subtle, delicious, continued, but there wasn’t a definitive climax; and therefore no definitive end to the pleasure. I woke up feeling like I had just met a new lover I was excited about.

I tend to practice about 5 to 10 minutes of concentration on the small A (as described in the book) after my usual yoga session in the morning. I also practice a ‘lighter’ more peaceful version at night before sleeping. It’s very effective to warm up my toes. I no longer suffer from permanently cold feet. Now they are only cold sometimes, but once I start breathing they warm up.

Several days went by when I just did the breathing without any extraordinary thing happening. I was a bit disappointed. When I started with a different breathing method in February (Wim Hof breathing), I was having some form of experience of ‘otherness’ almost every time.

The visualization of the small A is hard to keep in my mind. I tend to bring it to my forehead, as I am too much of a thinking floating head intellect. But I’m getting better at seeing/feeling it in my belly. I tend to see it as a black little metallic piece, it’s taken form on its own after a few sessions. At first it was a flat thing, suddenly it became 3-D (of course), the bottom was a cone, and the moon was a bowl, the circle became a sphere, and the upper line is like a cable. The whole structure resembles a satellite dish. I have trouble imagining it as a red or orange ember, rather it is a piece of black metal that begins to have tinges of color as I ‘blow’ on it with my breath. Similar to when coal begins to warm up in a barbecue. At some point the cone became a pyramid, and the breathing and concentration immediately improved. There was a moment when I started ‘feeling’ the small a in my belly rather than just visualizing it. At this point it became fleshy-metal-ish, as if the tiny metal small a is embedded in a folds of pink-orange flesh.

The first moment when I felt it was very joyful, so joyful that I broke out in a loud laughter. I just wanted to continue and continue laughing. I attempted to keep the meditation going and laugh ‘inside’. The ‘fleshy’ feeling inside is tied to the ‘ovarian palace’ as it is called in the Tao. It was a lot of fun.

Sept 9/ 2017

I went on a camping trip, slept on a tent outside. The weather outside must have been around 13C. I slept without socks (since my socks got wet and couln’t find my sleeping socks). Did a little bit of breathing before going to sleep, I was so tired from the day’s hike, I fell asleep quickly. I was suprisingly warm and cozy alone in my tent. Slept very very well. I woke up dreaming about my last lover, we were lying in the ground and he was holding me very tightly. He was convincing me to give it another try, (what he wants is not a relationship though, he wants to just meet about twice a month and have sex). This is someone I don’t want to go back to, despite great physical desire and emotional feelings for him. He doesn’t want to get involved, he doesn’t know respect, I am better off without him. I have decided this time and time again, but the feelings persist…sigh…

Sept 11/2017

Last night I dreamt that I was flying, and demonstrating this flying to sceptics. They could not deny what was in front of them. I have had, in my life many dreams about flying, but this one went on for longer, and I learned some finger positions to aid in the flying. They require joining the index fingers and the thumbs of both hands. Placing the hands over the head, or over the belly had different effects, and helped to keep the levitation going, or to point towards a certain direction. Flying in dreams has always been a pleasant experience. Today, by chance, I saw a video on youtube about tibetan monks who levitate.

Last night I also dreamt about my lost love, I went back to the place where I left him, and I called him and looked for him and couldn’t find him. I woke up disheartened, and didn’t do yoga, didn’t go to work, didn’t do meditation, didn’t do anything all day except eat and sleep and waste time. Every time my heart starts to warm up I feel this deep sorrow I carry over my lost love. There is regret, and there is also compassion for myself of four years ago.  I just didn’t know how to continue, and he expected me to tell him how to solve our problems. I just didn’t know how. Now it’s too late. My heart bleeds. It was numb, every time it wakes up it bleeds again. I will trust that this is part of the process that Lama Yeshe describes as the ‘melting of the heart chakra’. I feel immense love for him, and I feel like I will never love again like that, that I will never be loved again like that. As if I lost my chance in life for true love.

Today I haven’t had the strength to practice again, perhaps before bed. Need to find one of these monks who knows about ‘dream yoga’ as Lama Yeshe calls it.

 

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About Love and Pain

Some more about my lost love. A year ago I wrote a letter to my lost love. I still feel exactly the same way. I wonder if the pain will ever end.

It’s been four years since we didn’t get married.

Do you remember the day we didn’t go to our wedding?

Yet, we were hanging in there by a thread,

I ran.

It was death that came that night,

It was death I caused that night,

I don’t know if it was you or me who died,

Or rather what ‘us’ used to be.

Every happy memory we ever had is now a stab of pain,

I wander around the world lost and purposeless,

Yet, I couldn’t find purpose in ‘us’,

I let you go so you could know full love,

Now you say you have it,

Love slowly kills me,

I ache every day.

There is no comfort,

There is no end to the pain.

I still love you.

Every hour of every day.

I broke my heart again,

I just wanted some happiness in love.

Is there even a point in crying anymore?

 

 

Feeling around

What does it feel like to be an ocean? Or a tree swaying in the wind? How about being a newfound love? Or birds roosting in  new nest? Or new parents who see their newborn smile for the first time? Or a newborn mesmerized by the big moving things with five moving thingies at the ends?

I’ve  never been any of the above (well maybe the last one a long time ago); but I’ve  known all of them through their expressions of being. Meaning their feelings. I feel all of it, raw and unfiltered, as if it were me. I feel because I  am human. I  feel because I am receptive to the experience of feeling. I am an empath. So are you, if you want to be one.

Have you ever wondered what the rock under your feet is feeling? Or what the mountain thinks? I feel the love my mother has for me, and I love her back, and I  feel her love back in return for me loving her, and how she would love me unconditionally, and how I love her unconditionally. And it grows and expands. And it is love unexpressed that drives me to madness and sadness and despair.

And I  feel the unexpressed love of all those around me turning and turning. Wanting to get out until it explodes, being so misunderstood that it is sad. But in it’s root it is all love, so much love that it cannot be expressed. And so muvch grief over the unexpressed love. A conundrum by definition, a heart ache by practice. The root of all pain is love unexpressed and the root of all happiness is love unattached.

 

Letter to my lost love

It’s been more than two years since that horrible night when I broke both our hearts. I had to end it, I just had to, although it was and is beyond my understanding. I loved you then and I love you now. This is a letter that you will never read.

You spoiled me with your open smiles, your love, and dedication. No other man can ever measure up to you. No other relationship will ever measure up to what we had. Why couldn’t I love you with my body as well as with my soul? That, my dear love, is a question I carry around day in and day out. I wonder if I can love anyone with my body, I dare not try, my soul is already in love. I would only split myself in two.

How many times I have thought about calling you, about telling you that I made a mistake, please take me back, please love me and tell me everything is ok, please tell me that it’s not too late. I miss you every day, every hour of every day. I have nothing to give you, nothing to promise you, no children to give you. I cry and I bleed for you even as I write this. All I have for you is distance. And I would take your hugs, your laughter, your smiles, your support and your ring. And I would give you nothing but more heartbreak and tears.
We were once so close, I told myself time and time again, don’t ruin this. I found you, the love of my soul, and my dissonant body disagreed. But I couldn’t love you fully and I don’t know why. I fell into indifference, I ignored my aching body, I tried to please you and hurt myself.
I still love you, I always will. Every hour of every day. I fill my head with nonsense to try to keep the hurt away. There is no end to the hurt, no end to the tears. There is no point in crying endlessly. I hope my love reaches you, I hope my love comforts you, even when I know you feel abandoned and rejected.
I love you my dear, James Blunt put it right. Good-bye my friend, good bye my lover, you have been the one for me.

The Sand Ghosts

It was a time of sand and blood. It was a time of caravans and veiled dances around the night fires. Blood thirsty warriors became lust thirsty men in the cold desert nights.

The women of the sand were the most beautiful and mysterious dancers they had captured. Night after night they would create a cadence with their drums and chains around their waists. The smell of spices was ripe in the air, it mixed in with the heavy incense used to keep insects away. The women would come and dance all the horror of battle away from the minds of the young warriors. Their veils carefully covered and revealed their soft golden skin in rhythm to the music and their intoxicating swaying hips. Even the chains of their captivity were instruments of beauty and spirit as they wove their dance around the tent. Thirteen goddesses captured and given to the warlord for his pleasure. Sacred wars fought in name of one or another bloodthirsty god.

Before their downfall, the sand ghosts -as they called themselves- were a vision of power and beauty in the desert sands. Sitting atop their white and gray horses, they rode the sand as though they were flying in it. A mysterious cloud of sand always preceded the women of the sand. Their veils flailed in the air weaving a song with the hooves and their battle cries. They were fierce, and strong, their name preceded them, and no town dare deny them lest they be sand cursed.

The warlord, having heard the stories, wanted them as a battle trophy.
To be continued…

Mass Hypnosis

An old one that keeps resonating in my mind…

Rising from the Abyss

Much of the world is living in a permanent state of mass hypnosis. Myself included. We look for things to amuse our senses to a point of overdrive. It’s either watching TV, listening to music, playing video games, and my personal favorite reading books. There are countless things in our environment that capture our attention- art pieces, advertisement, grafitti, songs, etc…We hardly get a moment where our senses are not being overly stimulated. I will not even talk about porn, but it is the extreme of these same patterns. How are we to ever get to know our own true selves in the middle of all this noise? At the same time, I think it is because we are lacking this knowledge of the inner self that we seek all these things that hypnotize us. We actually LIKE to get lost in a good book or film. We seek the…

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Empaths: Meet Like Minded People

I’ve come in contact with a great website to meet like-minded people. A place to express and share what it is like to lead a life of emotion:
Empath Support Community

It is starting out, so join it and contribute, it is up to us to make it a great community. The site is available thanks to Gary from http://areyouanempath.com/.
I´m curious to see how it will develop.
Smile,
Luna Sol

On empathy, feelings and responsibility for the self

Being empathic means that you feel the emotions of people around you. Sometimes as if they were your own. Identifying the source of that emotion can help bring clarity to your own sense of self. This does not mean that it is other people’s ‘fault’ if you feel sad/angry/happy, etc…What you feel is always your own responsibility.

This has taken some time to figure out. I’ll work with an example, although the experience of this has been much bigger than this circumstance.
The situation: I have a good friend, and lately I am angry and mad at her all the time. It is unlike me to be quite so angry out of nowhere, she hasn’t offended or wronged me. I finally worked out that she is very angry at herself for several reasons in her life, not related to me. I am feeling this, and getting angry at her. She’s out of shape, and dangerously overweight, and I get sooo mad at her every time she is eating junk food (which I might be eating right along with her). I get mad at her when she fails to come to our friends’ sport evenings, I get mad at her when I see she didn’t take care of her appearance that day. I get mad at her when I see her not getting her job done. Anyhow, you get the point, I seem to be angry at her all the time.
Is it her fault that I am angry at her? she is bringing it up yes, but it is not her fault that I am mad at her. My emotions are always my responsibility. She – or anyone else- is not capable of bringing up any emotion that I don’t already have in me. So, this seething anger, while not something that manifests in me very often, is something that exists. She is bringing it up, and I am allowing her to do it. It is still my responsibility. More than the emotion that is coming up, my actions and words are completely within my domain. I must take care of my words, and my actions and act with integrity with myself.
Taking a step back and looking at the situation I see the poison that this anger brings to her. She is having trouble with other people, she already had a few nasty disagreements with people around her. Her relationships are all failing. People sense this anger and react to her in the same manner. She feels like a victim, like the world is against her. And it is. In reaction to her own image of herself. She eats out of spite and anxiety, gains even more weight, and gets all the more angry. It is a nasty cycle. When I try to point it out she gets angry at me. (and I get angry back at her)
I see it, I still get angry. Although she is bringing it up, it is my responsibility to hold up my side of the friendship. I’ve been trying to not go into an argument with her, but it finally happened, it was small, but still. I tried talking to her, I told her I sense her own self loathe, she heard me but it is not going away just because I pointed it out. For now, I will take some distance to preserve the friendship, still hang out with her, but less, or in a group. Until I can work out how to get through this anger, it comes up, and it is something that I don’t know. I am figuring out how to overcome it, whether she keeps being angry at herself or not. I am responsible for how I feel, and I can take steps to deal with this anger in myself. Regardless of how my friend evolves. Similar situations to this have happened to me time and time again, it is the moment to learn the lesson. If I take responsibility for this anger, then it can show me something about myself, and I can deal with it. I am not a victim of the emotional states of people around me.
As an empath, first recognizing where things are coming from is very useful to have an understanding of the situation. Second, taking responsibility for your own emotions, words and actions, is the ultimate enabler. The emotions that others can bring up in us are a mirror of our own unconscious mind. I wasn’t aware that I had so much anger in me. Similarly, we can choose what emotions we want to bring up in people around us.
I choose to bring joy and peace, this I declare, and so be it.
**Smile**

A moment of Crisis

It’s 1 am, I’ve stared at my computer today all day, I haven’t managed to get any work done. I have nothing to present at the meeting tomorrow. I know it matters, and I care, I do, but I just can’t do it.
I need to send an email, the document is ready, I just have to send the email and apologize for missing the deadline. I can’t, I just can’t, I despair…
I often get blocked like this with work. I sit down and I stare at my screen, for hours, and get nothing done. I read and re-read the same paragraph and don’t get any meaning out of it. I feel I’m late for everything, failing at everything. This has been going on for quite a while, and I’ve had entire ‘lost’ weeks. Weeks, not even days, weeks. I feel like a fraud, or a thief for taking my paycheck when I know I’ve been spacing out.
I’d like to get things done, I don’t enjoy this spacing out. I feel awful about this. Yet, I am blocked, I am right now in the frame of mind where I can’t think about what I have to do. When I do start I will regret all the lost time. I start to be afraid I might lose my job.
When I do try to start, I get this overwhelmingly sleepy feeling, it’s like a fog, I can’t avoid it, I can’t even hold a proper conversation. I can’t think or even move a lot. I don’t understand why, my job is not something strange, mostly some programming, writing and thinking. Nothing daunting or scary about it. And yet, I can’t, I’m panicking.
When I’m not spacing out, when I’m in my zone, I’m actually very good at my job. So far, it’s been enough to get by on, but this causes me a lot of stress. I only reach the zone, if at all, at the very last moment, and I never know if it will work or not.
I’ll give myself a break and admit that I’ve had a fever, on top of bruises and swelling from that bike accident, for the past two days. I had doctor’s leave yesterday, but today I should have worked. I had fever and sweats all day, I didn’t do anything. I think I’m still feverish.
Considering whether to try and do a marathon effort right now, or just give up and cancel my meeting tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration in the next few minutes. I look at my program and I don’t understand it, it works, it’s ready, but I can’t possibly make sense out of it right now to try to explain it tomorrow.
I despair, I see this is the root of a lot of stress in my body. I just want to be able to get my job done in the appropriate hours to do it. I can’t focus, I don’t know how, I don’t remember what all these symbols mean. It’s like someone else did it. Where am I?, where is the me that wrote this program?
What is wrong with me? maybe I ought to just quit, but I decided some time ago to not make life changing decision in a moment of crisis. This is a moment of crisis, once more. It is cramped muscles, painful joints, droopy eyes…depression in its ever threatening choking embrace…
I need help with this, don’t know who to turn to…