Been reading Pamela Grout’s book, E2, in which she creates nine experiments to test the hypothesis that humans are essentially bundles of energetic frequencies. We draw to us what matches the frequency that we give off. I chronicled my first experiment in another post.
According to Grout, our very thoughts affect our frequencies. When our frequencies are high, the energy field in our body is expansive and big. The hangers respond by opening wide. Conversely, when our thoughts are low, they in turn decrease the frequency of our energy field and pull inward, drawing the hangers together and crossing them. Further, when attention is focused in a specific direction, the hangers respond by moving toward the direction of the object / person toward which we are turning our attention.
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I’m overhauling my internal structures right now after an amazing shamanic coaching session with Fabeku Fatunmise, birther of identities and (going on) five years of deepish soul exploring. Feel like I’m just beginning!
I have been reading a book – a lab journal – in which Pamela Grout proposes that our thoughts create the fabric of our reality. She calls this the field of possibilities or “FP.” Grout’s book,E2, contains nine experiments that the reader can conduct to test out the hypothesis that we humans are mostly big balls of magnetic energy and that the frequencies of our thoughts draw to us whatever matches that frequency. Simple math would suggest that if you want happy-making “thing,” direct your thoughts in a deliberate way toward those happy-making things.
The first experiment suggests that the reader invite the FP to make itself known clearly. It is an exercise in noticing and focusing attention toward a specific thing. Eventually I am going for a set of tuning forks because, well, Internet, and the resultant burgeoning interest in frequency and its affect on our bodies / experiences. With an intention and some focused thinking, give the field of possibility 48 hours to show up unmistakably, Grout’s first experience asks.
After dropping the kids off at school the next morning, I began to think in earnest about this. You know that thing where you never think about yellow Volkswagens, but then once you notice one, you notice eleven more between there and home? “Instead of yellow, I want to see that bright avocado green I love,” I thought to myself.
By the time the thought had fully formed as I sat at the red light, a city bus passed me whose entire butt was emblazoned with the exact color I had in mind. I laughed in what might be called wonder. To me a bus speaks of moving big groups of people in a direction they want to go. That sounds like it’s on track for how I want to invest my time here on this planet on this go round.
I was ruminating on the significance of a green bus as I continued driving home. About a block away, I drove past a strip mall and as I glanced to it on my right, there was bright green logo emblazoned across the front of the building. It read: “P H O N E.” Communication. Getting messages across.
“That’s kind of cool. I wonder if it’s too much to ask for three?” I thought, keeping my eye out for green. A few miles went by.
Earlier that morning to make use of the ridiculously inconvenient hour between when my kids’ schools begin, I took the boychildren to buy some breakfast snacks. My favorite “chia vitality beverage” was on sale. I bought six and opened one. I’d been nursing it all morning and was almost finished. Reaching into the console to take take the last drink, what do you think I found? That’s right, a girl in the middle of a flower petal mashup, making an offering and seeding or planting her soul. How about that?
A block from my home, I was kind of disappointed. I was getting greedy now. I wanted another one. I had only one right turn and then I would pull into my driveway. As I swiped the steering wheel to make the turn, guess what I saw? I was wearing the color. There I was looking for something and I was wearing it the whole time. I am clothed in what I am seeking. It is me I am waiting for to show up. It was about this time that I thought about taking pictures.
That morning, I had an appointment with myself. I had hours before I needed to pick the kids up, so I was planning on doing a tutorial, and other than that, just diving into some more reading on this energy thing. I pulled into my driveway and checked a Facebook thread that I’ve been following before getting out of the car. In the thread, someone I respect very much recommended a book that I decided I wanted. That reminded me that I needed to go deposit some money in the bank, so I drove downtown to the bank. As I made the last turn before getting to the bank, I saw a new store on the corner. I used to sell industrial safety supplies. Not anymore. Now it is “Puj.”
In Hindi, Puj means worship or devotion or practice (copy and paste the Hindi of the link into Google Translate). I don’t know what this store does / sells, but I do know that part of my own spiritual awakening is regularly practicing a meditative and intentional ritual that gets me centered in my bigger-than-ego identity. Puj talks about the practice required to be the whole of you-ness with the whole of the rest of it. (Granted, I am not a scholar in Sanskrit, so this is largely personalized.)
Then I got a little cocky. “How about another?” The sign at the store across from the stop sign read, “Fluent.” Fluent as in getting adept at working with something so that its expression is effortless, a thing of grace.
One more. I wanted one more. What I really wanted was one of those green-butted buses because by that time I knew I would be writing about this. The only buses to pass were black-butted, so no luck there. I did see something green on the road back to my house though. I parked and snapped an image.
I got home, had some time to do a little centering meditation and then realized I had completely forgotten that I had an SEO tutorial scheduled. When I tuned into the webinar late, the group was critiquing one of the member’s websites. The moderator pulled up a member’s blog page, and we took a dive into a post he’d just written. I laughed again as I saw his logo. Endless entertainment is right!
I wrote the bulk of this watching my son’s lacrosse practice, sitting in my beach chair. It’s that color. On the way home from practice, we passed a yellow Volkswagen. A girl can’t make this up.
I am doing a 60 day challenge in which I write love letters to money. This is a fascinating and alchemical process as it is in an online forum with about 200 other people. We are exploring our money lineage, the stories we tell ourselves about money, and the connection between identity and personal abundance. Of course this is right up my alley. Here is a recent post:
You aren’t really money at all. You are a reflection of my internal world, and you manifest in a variety of ways that connect the everyday to the sacred: romance, money, opportunities, friendships, and a feeling of connection with Source. Or is Source also a reflection of me, or am I a reflection of my perception of Source? At any rate, a relationship with you is a relationship with myself. The magnitude of honor I exercise in/to/with my intuition, pullings, and desires creates the capacity of intimacy that I can maintain with you.
The level of challenge that ‘you’ present by not showing up when I am cuddling with my poverty mindset kind of turns me on. It tells me that if you are different from me that you hold the firm requirement that I show up in my BIGNESS. And if you are me, then that indicates that deep down I believe in myself enough to have faith that I can get to my BIGNESS consistently. Why else would I set up such impossible circumstances for my life? And frankly, with all of my loved people safe, what else would get my attention so profoundly? THIS is the kind of relationship I have been looking for. An energy that will support my push forward into BIGNESS. Insist on it.
You are a magic bastard. Strong. Worthy of me. Sense of humor. Interactive with me at a deeply psychic level. You don’t strip my identity – my desire for you facilitates its development. If I want more of you, I have to become more of me.
The Annunaki of Sumerian Mythology (a bunch of little guys doing something for one really big guy)*
So I was doing a little research on the history of metallurgy– figuring that I could distill some industrial verbage into a topic of remarkable interest for our soon-to-be hoards of loyal groupies. And naturally, that led me to Sumerian mythology. The story goes something like this:
The Annunaki who actually came from Sirius but are attributed to having come from Nibiru were out on an intra-gallactic ‘walkabout’ when some had the misfortune of crashing onto Earth. Finding it a resplendent locale, rich in divers minerals, they decided to colonize. They, being all smartypants, mined said minerals for thousands of years because they found that gold, in particular, was a magnificent conductor of energy, allowing them to maintain phenomenal longevity (upwards of 1000 years), increase their survival rates with its healing properties, and look cool as they bedecked themselves.
Some of the more entrepreneurial hatched a scheme. If they could mix some of their stellar DNA with the hominids scattered about, they could create a humanoid chimera who would be smart enough to do this mining work for them and would surely not mind doing so. So the Annunaki created what became humans so that they could then devote their time to more important matters like sinking Atlantis in a sound experiment that went horribly awry.
Inevitably, the humans eventually held an ancient, though successful, version of Occupy Annunaki-Ville, largely in retaliation for the unsavory practice the Annunaki had for dining on them. (Soyent Green / Fee Fi Fo Fum / Vampires). The Annunaki fled, promising (threatening) to return at some future date when the humans had completely scuffed things up. Like a mucked up version of kicking your kids out of the house to find their own way when they are being complete putzes but knowing you will be there for them if they fail miserably. But they’re mostly putzes because they don’t like it when you eat their siblings…
Don’t know about you, but that sent the story-teller in me into a warren of bunny trails from which I may never emerge. Biblical narrative, global themes of giants and vampires–not really so much about gold except that is a backdrop for funding the entire plot. I’ll keep you posted as I find more.
In conclusion, the net net of today’s research finds that according to Sumerian legend, ancient metallurgy began for humans shortly after they were chimera-ated into gold-mining sherpas for the ancient race of marooned space mauraders. Insert Joseph Campbell’s anthropological treatise on human archetypes and one could create a veritable tome, comparing the Biblical narrative with Sumerian legends and drawing conclusions that apply to prophetic writings that span the globe as well as well as to debates about the metaphysical.
For Pete’s sake, have a glass of wine and manifest anticipation as we make our way to the more authorized version of the human-to-precious-metals connection, etc.
Bonus: according to my online source (Internet: the fount of ALL that is true), the 2012 Mayan Calendar / Zombie Apocalypse is a ruse, so at least you can let your hair down on that one!