are you a carrot, and egg, or a coffee bean?

On July 9, 2012June 18, 2012 By MaryIn alchemy, growth into humanity1 Comment

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lived in Holland Township in New Jersey. This is a very special part of New Jersey that still has the gardens and farms that once made New Jersey the garden state. It is also a part of the world where mothers and daughters talk to each other about matters that are important to them. And they listen to each other as they think things through.

One day young Murina was feeling very sad and frustrate with life. Things were not going so well at school, her friends were not very friendly, and her favorite, most loved pet was ill, her flowers were not growing. Life was just not going her way. She told her mother all of this and said she just didn’t know how she could go on! Every time she thought she had one problem figured out, a new one sprouted up worse than the weeds in their garden. Life was just too much for her.

Well, Murina’s mother was a thoughtful kind of woman who like to help her daughter to think things through by showing her something to think about. So Mama Ideslef gave Murina a hug, and invited her into the kitchen. There, Mama filled three pots with water, and set each of them on the stove with each burner set to high heat. She brought them to a rolling boil (covered of course to conserve energy). In one pot she put some carrots that she had just harvested from the garden; in the second she place some eggs that Murina had just gathered from the hens; and in the third she place some coffee beans that Papa had just brought home from the Homestead General Store in Upper Black Eddy – fresh roasted and fair trade! They let each pot cook for about 20 minutes. Both Mama and Murina stood near the stove so that the steam from the boiling pots just caressed their faces – after all, a bit of steam is good for the complexion! Together mother and daughter stood and steamed in silence. It was a nice moment.

Then she turned off the burners, and scooped out the carrots and placed them on a plate, fished out the eggs and put them in a shallow blow, and then ladled out the coffee and put some into two cups.

Mama Ideslef turned to Murina and asked her, “Murina, have a look. what do you see here?”

“Oh, Mama, you know, carrots, eggs and coffee,” she replied.

“Good, Darling. Now what can you tell me about the carrots?”

“Well, they are pretty soft.” Murina said.

“Exactly. Now, let’s have a closer look at the egg. Why don’t you break it open, and tell me what you notice.”

Murina did, she peeled off the shell, and she describe a hard-boiled egg to her mother.

Then, Mama Ideslef asked Murina to have a taste of the coffee. This Murina did with great joy, delighting in the rich flavor of the coffee.

“But, Mama, what is all of this about? Other than distracting me, what does this have to do with my sadness?”

Mama Ideslef’s smiled, and explained that the carrot, the egg and the coffee had each faced the same adversity, the boiling water. But each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

“Which will you become, Murina?” Mama Ideslef asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but, on the inside, am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.

When your frustration and trials are their greatest, how do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?

In the beginning was the hearing

On July 2, 2012June 12, 2012 By MaryIn alchemy, growth into humanity, social justiceLeave a comment

In the beginning was the hearing. In the beginning there were consciousness raising groups. Over time small groups of women came together to tell each other our own stories.

Sooner or later, one woman would begin. Often the beginnings were hesitant and awkward. We were trying to put the pieces of our lives together. We were trying to find and claim shreds and shards and work the chaos into a collage with coherence.

One day a woman came to the group. She sat quietly listening and waiting. Finally she said: “I hurt … I hurt all over.” She paused and sat in silence for a moment, and one of us simply said, “Tell us what that is like for you.” She touched herself in various places as if feeling for the hurt before she added “but I don’t know where to begin to cry.” And then she began to tell us her life. She talked on and on. One story, one memory led to another memory and experience. “I remember waking up alone, hungry, no place to go – I must have been too young for school, no mama, no food. I was cold. I was always cold. It was always cold. School was cold. Too afraid to have friends, but they fed us there. They laughed at me there. They call them bullies now I think. I just remember the hurtin’ they put on me. Every day someone was puttin’ a hurting on me some kind of way. Then I met him, he said he would protect me, take care of me. He was nice – for a while. But then he started in on me. It was worse with him. He would beat me, and tie me down and have his way with me…” When she reached a point of excruciating pain no one moved. No one interrupted. Finally she finished. After a silence, she looked from one woman to another. “You heard me. You heard me all the way. You heard me all the way to here, to freedom. You heard me into my own skin. You heard me to life. ” Her eyes narrowed. She looked directly at each woman in turn and then said slowly: “I have a strange feeling you heard me before I started. You hear me to my own story.”

Our truth is found in our stories, our truth is found through our stories.

Listening to and hearing, really hearing each other is not an easy task. Those who have been abused, oppressed or discriminated against in any meaningful kind of way (and any abuse, oppression or discrimination is meaningful to the recipient of those kinds of acts), those people are often without hope and are mysteriously quiet. When change is inconceivable, there can be no words to articulate discontent. We can only hear silence in the very moment when it is breaking. And so, hearing each other is an essential responsibility, calling and task. Consider the image of hearing into speech, hearing into being. This is a kind of hearing that take place before speech is articulated; it is a hearing more acute than mere listening. Hearing into speech, hearing into being is a hearing engaged in by the whole body. It is a hearing that evokes speech, a new speech, a new creation. Hearing into speech, hearing into being dares not interrupt, but deepens when the telling halts or the pain becomes intense. Hearing into speech, hearing into being walks alongside the teller through her agony, and stays with her until it breaks from the inside and she touches her real self – all of her real self.

This story is inspired by the narratives in Nele Morton’s “The Journey is Home”

Mila Repa the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley

On May 28, 2012June 18, 2012 By MaryIn alchemy, love, mysticism, spiritual growthLeave a comment

Mila Repa was a great Tibetan Buddhist yogi. But, before he became a yogi, Mila Repa was a bit of a scoundrel. I mention that only to highlight that indeed change is possible – if you are committed to it and work at it. So this story is known as the tale of Mila Repa in the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley.

Mila Repa had been studying with his guru Marpa for a number of years, working to overcome the negative karma that he had accumulated during his years as a scoundrel. Our Mila Repa was not yet the most patient man, and so he was not satisfied with the pace of his progress. Eventually Mila Repa convinced Marpa that he should go off to the caves to pray and meditate in solitude, to get away from the distractions of day to day life. Marpa merely smiled a Mila Repa’s insistence, and finally gave his blessing to his student’s insistence.

One day, after Mila Repa had been living in the caves for some time he went out to collect firewood from the valley just below his cave. While he was out, a serious strom blew up. The wind was fierce, and as quickly a Mila Repa could pick up wood, the wind blew it out of his arms. The wind whipped his robes around and promised to tear off even that bit of protection. As his frustration grew, Mila Repa remember the Buddhist injunction to be free of ego and attachments. And he chastised himself, saying something like, “What is the point of my great devotions and solitary practice if I cannot manage to control my own ego! Let the wind take my robes away if it wants to.” And, just as he became aware of that thought, he fainted from the exertion and the struggle. When he came to, he observed that the storm had blown itself out, and he saw his tattered robe tangled in the branches of a nearby scrub tree.

Necessity being necessity, Mila Repa gathered up his robes, put them on, got himself back together, and gathered up the firewood that he had set out for. After a bit more work, he got himself and the wood back to his cave. When he arrived at the cave, he was surprised to find that his cave had been invaded and taken over by five of the ugliest, most ferocious looking demons that he had ever seen. They were huge, smelly, drooling with large fangs and claws. Mila Repa was shocked to see them in his peaceful dwelling space. But, he had his own history of villainy, so, undaunted he introduced himself to the demons and asked them to leave. The demons took this to be impudent effrontery, and became menacing. They destroyed his food stores, they ripped up his books of prayers and scriptures, and generally wrecked havoc in the cave. Then they surrounded Mila Repa, growling and taunting him maliciously. The demons made it clear that they were serious in their malevolence. Now, Mila Repa was alarmed and afraid. This was no mere halucination. He was in mortal danger.

Seeing their growing hostility, Mila Repa thought about his options. He thought about his years as a villan, and rejected violence as a possible response. He reaffirmed his committment to his Buddhist vows. He recited prayers of exorcism, with no effect. He preached Buddhism to them, he chanted Buddhist prayers and teachings to them, he told them of great acts of compassion from the history of Buddhism. All of this to no avail. Indeed, all of this had the opposite effect, only increasing their hostility toward him.

Despairation was descending on Mila Repa. He thought about all he knew. He thought about his years of study of Buddhism, he remembered that our experience and interpretation of reality is but a projection of our own mind. He remembered that all of our experiences are but teachers, intended to open our heart to greater awareness and love. … Mila Repa laughed out loud as he realized how romantic and lofty he always thought those teachings sounded. And now, his life seemed to hang on his ability to put those teachings into practice. Mila Repa remembered all that he had learned about love and now understood it with a new fearlessness. He welcomed the demons into his home and his life. He invited them to talk and eat and play together. He listened to them, even as he challenged them to listen to him. They engaged in a dialogue. He listened and learned — not to their taunts as they presented them, but to the meanings of those taunts within the context of awareness, love and enlightenment. And Mila Repa’s understanding and practice grew deeper and more refined. The demons did not leave – they never leave. But, Mila Repa’s relationship to them was transformed. They became his greatest teachers. Crisis is both danger and opportunity.

the butterfly effect and efforts to help

On April 22, 2012 By MaryIn alchemy, change, stories for social change1 Comment

Alchemy is all about change. And, if there will be justice and respect for human rights in this world of our, then some fairly serious change is necessary. And, yet, the right change, at the right time, in the right place, with the right people, in the right way is essential. I am much more inclined to believe that the means define then ends than I am to accede to the ends defining the means. As story that I love to tell about the important of patience and ends and means and about respect for the dignity and abilities of others involves a little girl who LOVED butterflies. The way I tell it …

Once, in a place far away and very near, there was a young girl who was fascinated with butterflies. She loved to see their colors, to watch them glide and sail on the breezes. Her favorite plant in the field next to her home was the resplendent butterfly bush. One spring, just before she turned 13, just as she was beginning to see with clearer eyes and a heart yearning to mend the suffering of the world, she was meticulously watching the cocoons, watching for the first butterflies to emerge. She ever so patiently watched, attending to the suffering of the chrysalis as it struggled to break the bonds of the cocoon, straining for the freedom of life as a butterfly. Her heart yearned to help. She ached with sadness for the struggle. And, then it came to her. She went into her fathers workshop, found his exacto knife, and ever so gentle, ever so delicately, she cut the slightest incision in the cocoon, transforming the chrysalis in to the butterfly it was meant to be. It burst out of the cocoon, spread its beautiful wings, floated gracefully for a moment, and then tumbled to crash into the red maple tree next to the butterfly bush. She watched as the infant butterfly struggle to straighten its wings. It struggled, and seemed to tire, and then just faded into the mulch at the base of the tree. Heartbroken our girl-child ran to her grandmother and told her what happened.

Grandmother gathered the girl into her arms, smiled through her tears, “My granddaughter,” she said, “your heart is warm and wonderful. You must challenge your intellect to grow to the same depth in its knowledge and wisdom. The chrysalis in the cocoon must struggle for its freedom to build its strength for flight and freedom and survival in this world. When you rescued it before its time, when you cut it free too soon, it had built the strength in its wings to fly, and so it could not do what it needed to do to live. Each of us, Child, must live through our own struggles, to build the strengths and skills we will need for our lives. If you would help, you must know when and how to enter the struggles of others so that each finds her own best strength and power.

100th Monkey

On April 19, 2012April 22, 2012 By MaryIn alchemy, change, social justice, stories for social change1 Comment

I love the story of the 100th monkey — the monkey who tumbles everyone else over the tipping point of social/cultural change. It is one of those stories that floated around in the back of my awareness, and then, MAGIC! I was reading a book by Jean Shinoda Bolen, and she detailed the story in her book. The glories of the internet enable highlighting bits of narrative detail all the more readily, so here are the words of Jean Shinoda Bolen, followed by story as told by Ken Keyes to whom she gives source credit!

Magic is alive! Change is afoot.

THE ANTIDOTE*:

Circles of Compasson and The Millionth Circle
by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D.

*antidote: 1: a remedy to counteract the effects of poison. 2: something that relieves, prevents, or counteracts. ~ Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary

The Hundredth Monkey

An idea whose time has come depends upon a critical number of people embracing a new way of thinking, feeling, or perceiving. Once that critical number is reached, what had been resisted becomes accepted. What was once unthinkable, and is then adopted by more and more people reaches a critical mass, and then becomes a commonly held standard of belief or behaviour.

When an idea is ridiculed, especially when men discount the possibility and label it as illogical as well, a story to hold onto while continuing to work on bringing about a change is a powerful inspiration. That concerned citizens could be effective in ending the nuclear arms race between the United States and Russia was a ridiculed idea, for example, and yet people began to try and the movement grew, inspired by the idea of a critical mass examplified by the story of “The Hundreth Monkey” written by Ken Keyes and spread by word of mouth. Predicated on the intuitively grasped morphic field theory, postulated by theoretical biologist Rupert Sheldrake, it told the story of how new behavior initiated by a young female monkey spread through her colony and then was observed by scientists to now be done in all other monkey colonies on separated islands, without any means of direct influence. “The hundredth monkey” was the one who became the critical number, after which all monkeys now did this new thing because every member of the same species is connected to the same morphic field.

The 100th Monkey

A story about social change.

By Ken Keyes Jr.

The Japanese monkey, Macaca Fuscata, had been observed in the wild for a period of over 30 years.

In 1952, on the island of Koshima, scientists were providing monkeys with sweet potatoes dropped in the sand. The monkey liked the taste of the raw sweet potatoes, but they found the dirt unpleasant.

An 18-month-old female named Imo found she could solve the problem by washing the potatoes in a nearby stream. She taught this trick to her mother. Her playmates also learned this new way and they taught their mothers too.

This cultural innovation was gradually picked up by various monkeys before the eyes of the scientists. Between 1952 and 1958 all the young monkeys learned to wash the sandy sweet potatoes to make them more palatable. Only the adults who imitated their children learned this social improvement. Other adults kept eating the dirty sweet potatoes.

Then something startling took place. In the autumn of 1958, a certain number of Koshima monkeys were washing sweet potatoes — the exact number is not known. Let us suppose that when the sun rose one morning there were 99 monkeys on Koshima Island who had learned to wash their sweet potatoes. Let’s further suppose that later that morning, the hundredth monkey learned to wash potatoes.

THEN IT HAPPENED!

By that evening almost everyone in the tribe was washing sweet potatoes before eating them. The added energy of this hundredth monkey somehow created an ideological breakthrough!

But notice: A most surprising thing observed by these scientists was that the habit of washing sweet potatoes then jumped over the sea…Colonies of monkeys on other islands and the mainland troop of monkeys at Takasakiyama began washing their sweet potatoes.

Thus, when a certain critical number achieves an awareness, this new awareness may be communicated from mind to mind.

Although the exact number may vary, this Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon means that when only a limited number of people know of a new way, it may remain the conscious property of these people.

But there is a point at which if only one more person tunes-in to a new awareness, a field is strengthened so that this awareness is picked up by almost everyone!

From the book “The Hundredth Monkey” by Ken Keyes, Jr.
The book is not copyrighted and the material may be reproduced in whole or in part.

Read the whole book.

One hundered monkeys and tipping points — have you ever notice a time when a critial mass was reached around an issue you were struggling to transform? Have you been witness or participant to the birth/growth of justice? what were some of the key elements that fed the alchemy?

JustAlchemy

Category: alchemy

are you a carrot, and egg, or a coffee bean?

Mila Repa the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley

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THE ANTIDOTE*:

Circles of Compasson and The Millionth Circle by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D.

The 100th Monkey

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Circles of Compasson and The Millionth Circle
by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D.