Healing Paralysis

I am a seeker, one who wants to know. One who does not rely on “the system”. One who challenges myself. Doing this kept me interested and alive.

The one thing I noticed was that if I did one thing just for me per day – it would boost me up. This was rollerblading (and later meditating). I was a very fast and talented on roller blades and even featured in the local newspaper at one time for my speed and agility. You could say I was a bit of an adrenaline junkie.
One day I was rollerblading down a very step hill on a quiet Sunday afternoon when, quite suddenly a car appeared and I was run over – not just once but twice!

Yes, the car stopped and parked on top of me after running me over. What happened to me (or within me) next is bizarre…as all five (yes five very large people) emerged from the car the women were crying, “You’ve killed her!”
I was very still under the vehicle and a very calm and male voice, very different from own, came forward from within me and said, “Removed the car from my body and then come back and pick me up.”

They drove the car off of me, and then ran back and two big men picked me up and carried me to the car. My voice said, “lay my body across all of you in the back seat and drive me home.”

They followed my instructions, and I began some of the hardest work in my life to reverse paralysis…
As per my instructions, they carried me out of the car and up the stairs into my bed. They left their insurance information and I said nothing. I could not feel my legs but i knew that if i reported the accident I would be telling myself that I was injured. I refused to be hurt.

They left and I fell asleep for over 12 hours. I woke up and dragged myself to the bathroom with my elbows then ate breakfast. I threw their information into the garbage so there was no way out – i must heal. I began the mind work by lying on the floor and imagining myself walking. I began to use visualization to stimulate activity in my lower body. I could feel absolutely nothing from the waste down. I used pain as my friend and began imagining the pain of pebbles and sand scrape the bottom of my feet as i walked on the beach. the hot sand burning into my toes…
I also beat my legs for hours per day until i was covered in sweat (its harder than you think sitting up when you have paralysis).

I would speak out loud saying i’m walking to the store now. I’m running around the block now and then visualize myself doing the activity. One activity i used frequently was getting my legs scrapped by black berry brambles…I hated that and used it to heal my body because the pain of it was so active in my mind.

I phoned into work and told them that i had a personal emergency and that i would not be in for a month. I did not tell them why. i told no one why. i did not want pity. i did not want anyone to believe i was paraysised. I hid for a month.

during that time i worked so hard daily with my mind that i would pass out from sheer exhaustion and then wake up and do more…and then pass out. i was militant. i would scream at my body and order it to do my bidding. “you are standing!” “you are walking!”

i ordered everything by phone. weeks passed until one day i felt a tremor. oh i was over-joyed! i phoned equipment rentals and had them deliver crutches to me asking them to leave it at the door (i could not walk or balance yet let alone stand to open door.) I dragged the crutches in and used them to stand and lean against the wall.

I continued my mind exercises using pain of walking long trails up the mountains and remembering the aching joints and muscles to stimulate my legs. I visualized stubbing my toe to stimulate activity there. over and over again i used pain and remembered all the details of those mountain trips, or icy snow, or frozen toes to activate my feet and legs.
Then i could stand. weeks later i could walk. training myself how to walk was unbelievable. i was like a baby learning to balance and walk but i did it. two weeks later i was using a cane and then i was back at work – still i told no one. i was not yet stable enough to.

Though i began roller blading not long after (to reactivate the muscles), it took about 6 months to regain my full strength. never once did i let up, never once did i tell anyone. it was my battle and i was going to win.

This was my first initiation into the power of the mind and body.

the glory of the god(dess)

Today i stood in the kitchen listening to children playing in the backyard and my heart spilled over for the mercy of God. This seems so crazy to say, and it has been happening to me for years. My heart and mind suddenly filling with God’s incredible glory bringing me to my knees in bitter-sweet pain. I collapsed over the sink as i have done so many times and sobbed, so careful no one sees me as it could easily be mistaken for sadness.

I flashback to the time when i had just emerged from meditation out in the desert. I moved back to canada and was also standing in the kitchen, when suddenly i had huge unfathomable compassion for my child’s abuser. this compassion was great and as i filled with mercy i was pushed into a kneeling position on the floor of my kitchen, head bowed, arms in. i had absolutely no control over my limbs, this was automatic and a wave of God, like a large breeze, passed through me as my being heaved while my heart flowed over with a river of deep compassionate love.

I don’t know what happened next but this was around the time that I had gone to the Goddess’s chamber – the darkness within the cosmos – to witness her greatness of being. her majesty, her magnificence in her powerful, humble receptive being. She was the universe. She was the all. Her force, receptivity (love) controlled everything. in her lowest state she was raw ungovernable emotion and in her highest state she was the deepest compassion imaginable – the power that pushes one to save another and know that somehow, though unseen, we are one.

The Journey Back

Trying to understand the motions of my life and, by doing so, maybe witness a pattern behind them. perhaps arriving at philosophical resignation one day…later I will discover that there is a greater home and greater family much more loving than the physical family and home as my ideas begin to broaden.

So there I was at a penniless point and there was no where else to go but home and I groaned at the idea of facing my father. I remember his voice when i phoned him from jail (my one phone call) and, after telling him about my predicament, how he gruffly said, “Send me a postcard” and promptly hung up the phone. I sat there holding the dead line to my ear for a moment, not sure what to do. This was not good.

Before my mother had left, I remember the day waking up with blood all over my legs and, not knowing about menstruation, I ran into my parents room. My looked at me and rolled over irritatingly saying, “talk to her Ted”. I turned and ran back into my room finding after no help there. shortly after my father came in and explained it all to me. I had a replaying memory of my mother from when i was five years old which upset me. It was always there to haunt our relationship. When my mother left us she had told no one. she just wasn’t there one day. gone. She didn’t talk to us until weeks after her departure to let us know she had moved away to start a new life. I didn’t know how to feel – sad – happy – relieved?

So there i was sitting at the bus stop in nova scotia waiting for the long coast-to-coast ride home to British Columbia – this pattern of leaving and returning would resurface for the rest of my life. later, after transcendence, i would understand the intelligence behind movement and how it leads the mind into new avenues of understanding in an abstract way.

by the time i got to Montreal my legs and arms were stiff from inactivity. I had read Mordecai Richler, a Canadian who wrote about the Jewish slums in Montreal, and i was curious about them. Curiosity has always been my Achilles heal and I consulted the bus shedual realizing I could take the next bus 8 hours away. so i slipped off and made my way towards that dirty part of town…

I moved through the streets asking for directions and responding with a shrug when asked why i want to go there. The few i spoke to tried to redirect me towards the city center but i was staunch in my pursuit. Just so happens that the bus station was not too far away from my destination. I could literally see the cross-over point of civilization into the slums of no return. As I stepped over the boundary liter and questionable persons overcame me for the first twenty minutes and then I calmed down, my eyes absorbing everything. It was close to 6am and light was beginning to wash away the dirt from the prior evening. I tried to read the graphiti, see what the errant papers on the street were preaching – what were the people here concerned about? probably survival.

About one block away i could see an open bar – at 6am? What bar was open at this time? its lighted sign in the window was hanging haphazardly and its glaring red name belted out at me. There was a figure leaning in the doorway against the frame and as i neared it became clearer and my focus could make out a feminine shape. As i neared i saw the lines of her body – so curvy, elegant and undeniably feminine. Her head appeared shaved and she was smoking in a slow and seductive manner – the cigarette being so gracefully lowered from above down to her lips. A great slow inhale and then the feeling of mass relaxation as she exhaled slightly tilting her head upwards. Her breasts, slim waist, and gentle body snug in her low cut cocktail dress as her eyes followed me. my feet made sound on the pavement in the stillness of the morning and i was scheduled to inevitably pass her doorway any moment. she was languid and my curiosity about what i would read in her delicate face drew near as I inadvertently glanced over to capture the lines on her face and the story in her eyes but this all fell aside with the discovery of the 5 o’clock shadow creeping up over her jawline and darkening her cheeks. I was shocked and looked away abruptly trying to hide ruffledness from my former fascination. “Her” body and movements had been so refined and feminine…

I carried on through the streets for hours absorbing details and sights in this mysterious section of montreal trying to visualize what goes on behind the doors. time evaded and i turned back towards the station. I mounted the bus and regained my seat once more to pass through the changing wild terrain of Canada from my stage coach window.

We drove and as we passed by Toronto I reflected on being there with Ned. We had gone to Gravenhurst, a beautiful little summer town outside of Toronto to see friends and explore the area. little did i know that in ten years i would be sitting as a well-dressed woman watching the Phantom of the Opera in the Toronto opera house beside the father of my child…

but for now life would seem to return to the mundane and regular as i returned to my rural high school to graduate and then move to the main city of Victoria for college life… but life has a way of opening up

Self-love – the crux of all true happiness

I feel the need to review my busy life to arrive at a sense of structure…images from the past are so jumbled and conflicting.

As far back as I can remember I wanted to save the world but looking back I can see that I spent majority of my time trying to just survive…while the inner voice directed in times of need. It was always vigilant and I took it for granted.

Still in my “learning phase” (which would extend over a 30 year span) at 17 years old I left the NWT’s by flying to Edmonton and hitch-hiking across Canada. I went with Ned who had relatives in Nova Scotia. Sadly, we went across Canada during the dead of winter. it was so cold, barren and desolate. the bleakest winter I can remember as we stood out on the highway or the prairies looking at a stretch of road that went on for miles. There was no shrubbery, just dirt and flat road way. we could see a car coming but would have to wait 45 minutes until it reached us. the only car in hours and it drove past us…

we got rides mostly with truckers and went from truck stop to truck stop all the way through Canada while pausing to view the sites and check out the towns. Ned was a “lost child” an emotional guy with no education who went from one small job to the next, no home – always ‘staying with someone’. Later I learned why he was this way…

As we took the St. John’s ferry from Labrador to Newfoundland the weather has taken a radical shift. a storm had broken out and the tug shifted from left to right wobbling dramatically to the point that water flowed in over the stern and side of the boat. parked cars rolled into one another and people gripped the sides of the boat yelling. the ferry was about go to turn over. we were gripping the rails wondering how much water would launch up to drench us. In the end we all made it although there were a lot of sea-soaked folks crying and lamenting over the vehicle pile up below. we arrived and continued on our journey so happy to be on good, solid land.

His parents were divorced. first we arrived at his mothers house. it was a nice, average home in a residential area. she answered the door halfway looking very nervous and somewhat scared. She wouldn’t let us in. She hadn’t seen Ned in a long time. She had remarried and had two small children. “You can’t stay here Ned. You must go.” I wondered about him. how he had grown up with a mother who seemed to want to get rid of him. He was not happy about this but turned away and we decided to keep going until we reached his father’s place.

we arrived at his father’s tiny ancient trailer which existed in a trailer park. His father seemed nice but Ned warned me not to be too kind to him. It would be a week later that I would see his father in an altered state that was unspeakable. In this state the authorities would be called to calm him or take him away and store him in a cell until he ‘returned to normal’. How had Ned and his brother coped with these two parents?

We stayed a couple of days and then the next thing I knew the police were at the door. apparently Ned had a b & E sheet longer than both his arms and he had been apprehended for breaking into a bank. the police wanted me to testify. And although Ned had spoken to me about this after he had done it but I could not tell on him. I could not tell on someone in order to free myself. something seemed so wrong about this. I refused to speak and consequently, went to jail. They only free space was the maximum security penitentiary in Nova Scotia and so i went in with all the ‘hard-core’ criminals. I had always wondered about “life on the inside” and now i would actually experience it first hand. Ned went to jail for 3 years and I returned to British Columbia and I decided to go back to school to graduate.

My compassion for Ned was great as he is one of many people looking for something to hold on to. I understood his inner-world so completely. How he wanted to move forward in life but felt so useless. How he was tortured with one thought which swiftly moved into a contradictory thought moment to moment ceaselessly. I never did ‘save him’ or the world. Today I wonder if these poor souls ever find inner peace? After all, do we ever transcend our desire to please our parents and be loved by them? this lack of being loved and being able to love causes so much trauma in the life.

I suppose the moral of this post is all about vibration… the mind and body needs love. when it has a lack of love it can transmit to thinking (feeling unworthy of love, and all the things they imagine other people have) can lead to behaving like a criminal (in a desperate attempt to have the things they imagine will fill the void) which then attracts those who treat one like a criminal.

Tending to Self-love is key.
Self-love is the crux of all true happiness.

I welcome all your comments so please post your words, feeling, or views that you would like to share in the reply box below!

Shalom,
kels xo

The Aurora Borealis & the Voice Within

you’ve probably hear of the aurora borealis, which exists at both the south and north poles. The Aurora is an incredible light show caused by collisions between electrically charged particles released from the sun that enter the earth’s atmosphere and collide with gases such as oxygen and nitrogen. The lights are seen around the magnetic poles of the northern and southern hemispheres. Auroras that occur in the northern hemisphere are called ‘Aurora Borealis’ or ‘northern lights’ and auroras that occur in the southern hemisphere are called ‘Aurora Australis’ or ‘southern lights’.

Being Canadian, I was a former figure skater and, late at night after finishing my shift at the bar, i would walk out into the beautiful white woods and skate on the pond until 3 or 4am. No one knew of my secret pond. I hid my skates behind the bar and collected them at the end of clean-up hurrying out into the light of night (its always light in the territories). I walked along the deserted streets and then made my way into the woods, my inner being lunging ahead as it longed to express itself through the liquid movements on ice.

the pond nestled in the tiny forest, among a white winter wonderland of beauty. a fairyland. I was so cold and sat on a log and put my skates on. I tested the ice, then got on and surveyed the perimeters noticing where it might crack. Satisfied, I began to twirl and dance along the ice with the cool wind in my hair and a song in my heart. completely alone in the beauty of nature and self-expression. for those moments i was free.

I always skated until i felt the chill-banes quite strongly. Not wanting frost-bite (people who get this lose limbs), i took off each skate massaging the toes quite intensely to restore circulation before i put my shoes back on. then i would begin the trek home.

on one night, after skating, i was so cold i decided to take a different route home. a short-cut (i can hear you groan). I looked out from where i stood, knowing the direction. the snow was even, flat and looked firm. I would cut across the field I thought and set out on my way. I had not gone far when I suddenly found myself lying flat on my back. As i peered directly upwards I could see my body cut-out above me as I lay in a cavern of snow. The snow, so light and dry, had filled up the valleys so that the terrain appeared flat. I had fallen into a valley.

The voice within spoke,”you spend so much time looking downward, why not look upwards?” and i looked up through my body cut-out into the night sky to witness the aurora borealis. it was INCREDIBLE. swirling bodies of stars, against a moving blue and green back ground – a cross between a bright Kandinsky and van goh’s starry night. electric, elegant swirling masses of colors disappearing and reappearing. Although i saw the aurora borealis many times after, it was never as incredible as this night. I lay there in admiration.

However, after lying there transfixed for a while i began to get quite warm and felt very very tired. I wanted to go to sleep and began to curl up BUT the voice came into my head. it was my father’s voice. my father had grown up in Lynn lake Manitoba where it too was icy cold. “Kelly, i can’t tell you how many lives i saved just walking to school (it was a ten mile walk every day) as i pulled people out of the ditch who had stopped to rest along the way. when hypothermia begins to set in it makes you warm and you want to sleep. I would pull these sleepy people out of the ditch and not let go of them until they were up and walking.”

I ignored my father’s voice and turned over to rest more deeply when the OTHER voice came into my head booming, “YOU WILL GET UP RIGHT NOW.” I tried to ignore it. “GET UP RIGHT NOW AND DIG YOUR WAY OUT.” it was incessant and would not let up so i got up and dug my way up the ravine to the road and walked home. This was the full emerging of the inner voice – a powerful, authority-filled, stable voice that one dare not disobey.

Exhausted on arrival back at my trailer, i collapsed on my bottom bunk with my outdoor clothes still on and fell fast into a deep sleep.

We are always with God. We need to listen, we also need to treat our bodies well because they are the vessels that we hear God through. When the body is clogged the message becomes mottled so health is vitally important.

With many blessings,
Kels

The North West Territories

I suppose another reason for writing this blog is to put pieces of my life together in a somewhat chronological order. Having suffered from alcoholism for so many years most of my memory is blocked-out, faded, or fuzzy at best. The person i describe as me says i drank because i found life, in general, boring. but the greater me states that I was hiding, trying to feel good BEFORE i stepped out into the world to show my face. but that can never happen because the more we drink, the more we regress as alcoholism is a prison of helplessness – futility.

I’m not sure if alcoholism is hereditary. My father was alcoholic, and his father was as well. My mother’s mother (my grandmother) was alcoholic and my mother drank occasionally (seeing alcohol as an expensive luxury – go figure). At any rate, I drank considerable amounts when i did drink. I suppose the only thing that saved me was that I exercised more than i drank in general but whatever, alcohol was a big part of my life. I don’t drink anymore.

so I quit school and went to the territories to live with a friend and her boyfriend in that cold, frosty world. I forged my drivers licence to say that I was 19 so i could work in a bar. the place was frightful. Every day was the same. it was full of Eskimos who received checks from the government. we serve them alcohol until their government check runs out and then they are cut off. those incoherent were at the end of the night were dragged out into the cold and left lying on the icy road ways. They would get chill-banes on their face which, when healed, appeared as knife cuts on their face. I could never pull these poor, lost souls out into the cold. Life was so desolate, isolated and harsh for them. I had so idea how to save them. I felt so lost myself.

I voiced my opinion to the bartender who was also the manager. he seemed to be nice and respectful to the Eskimos. He would keep an eye on some, and try to put money aside for their cab ride out of the check amount. he was not racial, or opinionated but rather caring. he agreed with my view but at the same time told me it was their choice because every day they were back again. Also, he told me that they were difficult to deal with, quite mean, and would lie about how many drinks they had. I knew they suffered from a lack of love, a lack of softness and forgiveness. How could their inner being be reached? how could their world be fixed? certainly not by any ‘white man’. it had to come from within their own tribe, their own kind.

These natives in the bar, of course, are not the norm. In general Eskimos are a beautiful, happy and quite creative group of people living in the beautiful north who do not abuse substance. Their incredible art work and divine myths define their beautiful inward nature. I marveled at their creative expression when relaying stories or diligently working at their art.

In Inuit mythology, Nuliajuk is the goddess of the sea and marine animals such as seals. A creation myth, the story of Nuliajuk shows how she came to rule over Adlivun, the Inuit underworld. Nuliajuk is kidnapped by a bird creature. Her father then leaves in his kayak to rescue her from the floating ice-island where she is imprisoned while the bird creature is away. The bird creature, enraged by her disappearance, calls to a spirit of the sea to help him. The Sea Spirit locates the Kayak with the two humans aboard and creates huge waves to kill them. Her father throws Nuliajuk overboard in the hope that this will appease the angry sea god. Nuliajuk clings to the kayak but her father grabs a little axe and chops three of her fingers off before striking her on the head. The three fingers each become a different species of seal. The stroke to her head sends Nuliajuk to the ocean floor where she resides, commanding the animals of the sea.

The territories were raw fun, meaning there was nothing exciting to do so we had to make our own fun. So, late at night (it was always bright) we would take the old pick-up onto the ‘ice roads’. The ice roads were exactly that – roads of ice – out in the back ‘woods’ of our small town, which stretched out for miles. We would drive down these slippery pathways swaying left and right driving very fast and then put on the brakes on and slide. In this town i had found a boyfriend, Ned and on one occasion he opened the truck door to stand on the sideboard. in that moment he was horizontal holding onto the top of the door as the wind picked him up. Then he was a dot in the rear view mirror. horrified, we drove back to get him. hitting ice is like hitting cement but he seemed ok and we put him back in the truck.

Somehow we were indestructible back then, most likely because we believed ourselves to be.

I welcome all your comments so please post your words, feeling, or views that you would like to share in the reply box below!

Shalom,
kels xo

The Inner Voice is Recognized

I was a sexually abused child who regularly would float above my body every night protecting it from the ‘enemy’ who was in the room next door to me. Though my abuse only happened in one year its effects would follow me through life by way of my behaviors and beliefs which would alter my life experience dramatically.

My parents were self-absorbed and very unhappy and consequently I was left alone a lot. It was at 6 years old (after the abuse) that I began to wonder about life and death – what was life all about? why live only to die?
It was here that i began a life-long love affair with the unseen world. My closest friend was inside of me because i could not trust anyone on the outside. it told me what to do and where to go. a very good guide for someone as lost as me. invaluable. At 11 years old i finally realized that this voice was separate from me. it was not me doing the thinking – I was the one doing the doing. I was not the guide. this intelligence was within me but it was separate from that which i identified as “me”.

At twelve years old I sat beside a young man on the transit bus who held a bible. i asked him what he was doing with it (having been brought up atheist – or at least by people who made fun of those who mentioned “God”). He replied saying he was going to theology school and asked me if i knew what that was. I said, “yes, it is the study of God”. My inner being swelled in my chest and I wanted to go to theology school but the voice inside said, “Not yet. First you must learn about the world.”

And so I did.

I welcome all your comments so please post your words, feeling, or views that you would like to share in the reply box below!

Shalom,
kels xo

Love, meditation, transcendence, and the alchemy of becoming!

This blog is about meditation, finding/ identifying love, transcendence and the alchemy of becoming.

For me it all began with no love. feeling that I could NOT FIND WHAT I NEEDED. but WHAT DID I NEED? WHAT DID I WANT? AND WHERE WAS IT? these were the questions i assaulted myself with daily.

I felt if i COULD ONLY FIND WHAT MADE ME HAPPY and do it as a job I would be happy. I was so unhappy. I felt so lost, so completely sad most of the time. My friends described me as an alive, happy person who was fun but they never knew the deepness of feeling that assaulted me daily when I wasn’t showing off or entertaining.

Maybe I suffered from depression? I went to the doctor and tried a variety of medications from Prozac to lithium and all the other types in between. They made me feel worse and my body protested to every one of them (I could actually hear her saying “no”). it was a lost cause so i gave it up.

I decided I needed to go out into the world and seek that thing which i needed…that invisible thing…to explore and find it, realize it and then bring it back. And this is where the journey began…at 17 i quit school, left ‘home'(?) which was Vancouver Island BC, and went to live among Eskimos in the North West Territories…

that was thirty years ago. Today I sit in my living room in London, UK and wonder why it had to be so difficult…

I welcome all your comments so please post your words, feeling, or views that you would like to share in the reply box below!

Shalom,
kels xo