Saturday, March 11, 2006 - Holy Semantics!

I’ve been lurking, of late ~ eavesdropping on the myriad of on-line message boards hosting hot debates about the identity of "God." The recent, alleged "moral values" election evidently ignited our mass human consciousness, so the internet is rife with attempts and refusals to establish some spiritual commonality.

If we could only get over that name thing.

Alas, the most striking characteristic of the current cyber quarrel is the chronic conviction of the people who are posting the messages. Be they Christian, Pagan, Muslim, or "Other," their rabid defense of dogma does little to bring anyone closer to God and much to deepen the religious chasms that sunder one human heart from another. And it seems that all this righteous ruckus boils down to, anyway, is an eternal dispute over semantics.

Think about it. Over the millennia, official human history (vastly different than the unofficial version) references thousands of names for a male deity. When one also recognizes the manyfold ancient and sacred Goddess names, as well as the more obscure divine monikers, one realizes that humanity is absolutely awash in different perceptions of God.

How can only one of them be right?

Just for a moment, let’s suspend our devout defensiveness and look at this whole name thing with some logic and compassion. First of all, we must remember that every indigenous culture is defined by its environment. The native animals and vegetation determine the cuisine, the architecture, the colors used in art . . . ad infinitum. The intrinsic value of anything is relative to the local resources. Even linguistics and cultural metaphors spring forth from the landscapes and seasons.

How, then, can we expect the inner symbology of a Tundra-dwelling man to mirror that of a Tahitian girl if the very dirt beneath their feet is different? How can they possibly squeeze an abstract concept like God through limited words that are constrained by imperfect translation?

Further, since each of us occupies a very circumscribed position in reality, how dare we presume to speak for All That Is?

A friend of mine says I have a convoluted mind, and I believe him. It’s not an insult, either. He simply means (and rightly so) that I see patterns and relationships in the world at large where others see only randomness. To my peculiar perspective, there is no discrepancy between quantum physics, elemental magic, and mainstream Christianity. All of them say the same thing: Your faith determines your experience.

Everything else is dogma or cosmic semantics based on the truly disheartening notion that God has an ego as fragile as man’s.

Saturday, March 4, 2006 - Intelligent Design

It felt like that first gasp of air after nearly drowning. Following weeks of sub-zero weather, deep snow, and shrieking winds, an unseasonably warm day beckoned me into my woods. There was plenty of snow still about, some of it too deep to traverse, so my way wound around the drifts, taking me down paths I rarely wander. Not only that, foraging creatures, large and small, had rearranged the landscape, and so many trees had fallen to the savage winds that the forest seemed all the more strange. But it yielded some sweet surprises.

I've collected bird's nests for years. I often find them when I wander, and sometimes people bring them to me, too. They are fascinating works of natural art, and they are magical, as well. More accurately, bird's nests are powerful symbols of the mechanics of everyday magic. Study one, sometime.

While hiking yesterday, I found a huge nest that had blown down from a tree. What an amazing creation! It's constructed of pine needles, dried grass, leaves, assorted dog hair, bits of dryer lint, carpet strings, scraps of newspaper, and feathers ~ all woven together and set with mud. It was originally molded atop a tree branch where it met the trunk, complete with a flap on top to conceal baby birds from would-be predators.

Such magic!

Oh, I know, most would chalk such architecture up to instinct. Blind, uninspired obedience to Nature's reproduction mandate. But I have heard them singing as they work ~ chattering back and forth as they build their nurseries for birds-to-be.

And that's just the beginning of the magic. Patience, ingenuity, and joy all coalesce in light-as-flight bodies to conjure something out of nothing in an elegant perpetuation of life.

So when I hear the yammer about "Intelligent Design," I look to my bird's nest collection, knowing that such magic is not confined to a distant and unfathomable God. In truth, it resides in the furred and the finned and the feathered. It resides in us. And it manifests in beautiful, unlikely surprises ~ like bird's nests.

Friday, February 17, 2006 - Walking Between the Worlds

My rare and fleeting dreams first suggested the notion. Of course, couched in the language and wisdom of dreams, they stirred my heart, not my brain. Days afterward, I ached to return to that phantom Oneness, to retrace my dream steps back to that sacred space of real magic . . . occasionally wondering at what point wishful thinking turns into Magical Thinking: the psychopathology. After all, nothing in my mystical life suggested the kind of direct connection to Creation that my dreams conveyed.

Not that the concept of "creating my reality" was new. I had studied that for nearly two decades, to little avail. Evidently, the traditional approaches required a logic I did not possess. Despite my earnest efforts, I remained painfully estranged from my own life.

All the while, Nature bided her time, waiting for who I thought I was to erode away, so that I could recall who I Am.

Indeed. The seven years of therapy and endless prescriptions intended to mitigate my wild mood-swings somehow accomplished just the opposite. The ordeal left my brain and body so compromised that my post-it-notes barely outpaced my bruises. Officially "medication resistant" and disabled, I retreated to my forest home to face the shambles of my life with no help, no hope and nowhere to turn.

Then my hubby inadvertently changed everything. On a whim, he brought me a copy of The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. Amidst those 876 pages, I discovered the Primal Mother and the premise for a beautiful, balanced spirituality that supported my mysticism, my studies and my mental "dis~ease." I even selected my own circle of deities to reflect my values, passions and aspirations.

Thus, I came to The World Between the Worlds free of dogma, superstition and the confusion of someone else's myths. After years of hypnosis therapy, I easily hushed my talking mind and imagined my awareness as a pebble in a silent pond, sinking deeper and deeper into the Mystery. At last, I gently settled within the Holiest of Holies . . . that potent place between the worlds of "ifs" and "buts" . . . the sacred space of Now.

"The point of power is always in the present moment." ~ Louise L. Hay

Thursday, February 9, 2006 - The "M" Theory

We recently watched a science documentary about parallel realities, string theory, eleventh dimension theory, and (gulp) "M" theory. The "gulp" was not mine. It was universal among that particular group of scientists, though none of them actually used the "M" word. Two of them used "mystery" or "mysterious," and one coughed out a muffled "mystical." In the end, they avoided using "magic" and settled for "membrane." This membrane being something so thin as to be cosmically intangible, but tangible enough to comfort those scientists, who cannot bring themselves to even contemplate consciousness, much less consciousness with a capital "C," and even less so, magic.

Such safety in a theorized "thing" that, perhaps, can be dissected or measured ~ such terror of a manifest Intelligence, which cannot.

Are we gods-in-the making? Sinners? The detritus from colliding membrane packets? Does anything we think or do have relevance on any level?

Ultimately, we each must come to Eternity in our own way. As a mystic, seeker, and habitual student, my spiritual wanderings have taken me on most well traveled roads. I even have seminary diplomas and such. But my favorite trails are the obscure ones, the ones less dogmatized, on which the individual soul is free to express its fullness and its affinities.

My love of elemental magic was as immediate as it was fated. I must explain, however, that this is a system purely of my own making ~ kind of like rogue scientific theory. It is my personal assemblage of archetypes, most of whom have no historic or logical relationship, except in my worldview. Even so, they allow the mystic in me entry into the hallowed realms, whereas more traditional prayers and gods require that I leave that part of myself outside.

As for the magic, itself. . . it is simply consciously applied quantum physics. The candles, incense, music, images, etc. are psychological devices that help me entrain the frequency of my mind to the frequency of the Natural World. Combining that resonance with focused intent creates amazing results ~ answered prayers, insights, magic. All religious ritual intuitively employs the power of such focused intent, successfully guiding millennia of flocks to whatever ends their shepherds prepared.

My path is far less woo-woo than the uninitiated may imagine. True, I do use the typical witchy trappings mentioned above, and I acknowledge the archetypes with whom I am working. Beyond that, however, I understand, unequivocally, that only with a clear mind, pure intent, and my harmony with Creation, can I enter the World Between the World and connect with the living magic there.

Sunday, February 5, 2006 - Magic and Me

Certain inevitabilities run through my life. The timing is never predictable, but a traditional phase in every new friendship is that hope-I'm-not-offending-you query, "You're a witch. . . Aren't you, Kitty?" Either that, or witchy kinds of quips, followed by wide-eyed silence.

The truth is, I do not consider myself a witch, nor would most devout witches I know consider me one, either. I do not follow anyone else's dogma, not even my own. I am a mystic, and I perceive Life as a flowing montage of micro/macrocosmic observations that impress me as energy trends and probabilities.

When I was small, I did not have the words of course, so my attempts to describe energy whirling beneath the grain of our oak dining table prompted only chuckles. By the canny age of twelve, during a midnight drive with my parents to Yosemite National Park, I decided better than to describe how the road began and ended with our truck's lights ~ or explain that it only existed while we were watching.

I did not tell them I was sure that the plants and trees talk amongst themselves. Nor did I mention that lies strike me like palpable blows, or that anger and fear glow like psychic neon.

Despite my secret-keeping skills, the adult authorities in my life decided it best that I be dosed with Valium. And since I did not understand the ramifications of that and felt I had no power to protest, in any case, I set my mystical little fourteen-year-old feet on the path marked Mental ~ a stigma that has lasted five decades.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006 - Wake-up Call

"And indeed, you know," he said. "I believe my record in terms of the level of taint that's there is dramatically different from either of them." ~ Arizona Rep. John Shadegg.

This is his platform. His raisons d'être for ascending to the role of House Majority Leader of the United States House of Representatives. A lessser "level of taint" makes him the perfect guy to lead the legislation of our future. Which is for sale, evidently, and grounds for some of the multiple and mounting felony indictments against the recently resigned Representative from Texas, Tom Delay. It seems he may be otherwise engaged for a couple of decades. Thus, his varying-degree-of-taint wanna be replacements are vying for the job.

If this is the pick of the litter, we ought to give thought to our national expectations. We've handed the keys of the kingdom to a bunch of kinda tainted folks who gleefully squander our economy, our environment, our freedom and our children on the altar of their one true god ~ Fear.

The worst of it is, the political duplicity out there reflects the self-deceits that reside inside of us. Otherwise the spectacle could not be part of our experience.

How many sacrifices do we make in preparation for some dire "what if?"

If we magnified them a few hundred million times, what would they look like?

Would that we could just ignore them until they go away. But they won't. They can't. It is metaphysically impossible to inhabit a less-troubled world until we become less-troubled individuals.

Sages, saviors, and now, scientists know that our experience follows our attention. What we dwell on comes to dwell with us. Our mental thugs precede the elected ones. Our faith in lack precedes our credit card crunch. Our betrayal of self spawns our every heartbreak.

We obviously have the wherewithal to populate our lives with mis-creations born of our unconscious thoughts. Thus, it only stands to reason that consciously directed intent should yield preferable experiences. Like the difference between a sputtering flashlight and a laser.

Some call it science. Others call it faith. But I say that we live in a magical medium where miracles and wonders are the norm. All you have to do is learn to stay awake in your life and use your mind, rather than allowing your mind to use you.

Stay tuned. . . There's much more modern magic to come.

Saturday, January 7, 2006 - Let There Be Peace . . .

Believe it or not, I used to regularly attend Sunday School. In fact, I was the pianist, because I so loved the hymns. Granted, today I would have a bit of an issue with the gender specificity of God, but I still love the hymns. My eternal favorite is Let There Be Peace On Earth. (© Jill Jackson and Sy Miller)

And let it begin with me.

Looking at the "outside world" such idealism seems beyond impossible.

Not so.

Peace on Earth? Increasingly, Yes.

By Andrew Mack

Wednesday, December 28, 2005; Page A21

By 2003, there were 40 percent fewer conflicts than in 1992.

The number of genocides and other mass slaughters of civilians dropped by 80 percent since the mid-1990s.

Core human rights abuses have declined in five out of six regions of the developing world during that time, as well.

After five decades of inexorable increase, the number of armed conflicts started to fall worldwide in the early 1990s and (with a glaring exception or two) continues to decline.

So, why are we not celebrating?

It's sad, but true, that the global media, especially the American media, spend far more time, resources, and content on wars and fear than on peace. Headlines announcing peace might generate ho-hum sales, whereas the old standby, terror, translates to a robust bottom line. At present, a handful of conglomerates own most American media outlets, including corporate entities with major profit centers dedicated to defense and war machines. Anyone see a conflict of interests when it comes to spreading peace?

We do know, thanks to a study published this year by the Rand Corporation, that United Nations peace-building operations achieve a two-thirds success rate. They are amazingly cost-effective, too, spending less per year on 17 peace operations around the world than the United States spends in Iraq in a single month.

Thus, Gentle Reader, it falls to us to hold the vision that peace is not only possible, it is probable. And we must act on that vision. After all, the progress we've seen toward peace during that past decade and a half has been done on the ground, not in the marbled halls of special interest. It is up to us to connect with humanity in all of its wondrous diversity and insist that the leaders follow the people toward a future that nurtures ourselves, our Earth, and our children.

Monday, December 19, 2005 - The Alchemy of Excellence

It never fails. I return from The IBI Free Enterprise Forum and am immediately besieged by the same question from the "Left-behinds" ~ those folks who could not or would not make that leap from wishing to doing. "Was it a good Forum?" they ask.

What can I say? I’m coming up on a dozen Forums and have not attended a bad one yet. In fact, I cannot even imagine what a bad one would look like.

Excellence is so much the standard at The Forum that the only variables are the people, and somehow the alchemy of each class always works. Once in a while I hear of a disappointment, as humans are human. But I also know that if the student seeks the counsel of IBI faculty, managers, or staff, or in some cases, Berny, the perceived disappointment most often becomes a win. Even I am not exempt. This Forum was particularly difficult for me, because I am still not at 100%, and I was exhausted before I went. Even so, it was magnificent.

I got to watch hardcore realism surrender to the wonder of The Forum. It was truly delicious. One morning, one of our folks rushed up, all shy smiles, and announced that "it was worth the price of admission just to have breakfast with Berny. I got so much." And then something akin to "Man, does he have contacts."

I spent some time working with Lynn and Berny and the other club managers to formulate new policies in anticipation of IBI’s growth. Yes, it was tedious at times, but it also beautifully exemplified the power of working in cooperation.

I was privileged to visit with the former head of National Lampoon, who delivered a brilliant class on making competition irrelevant and is the nicest, classiest guy you’d ever want to meet.

As for our new grads ~ they really should be blogging about their wins, because there are some spectacular ones. Besides, you should know who these folks are and what they’re doing to change the world. Which, more than anything, sums up every Forum for me. As one new grad put it at our Graduation Celebration, "This is not just your business, people. This is your life!"

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Kitty R. Connell

Thursday, December 8, 2005 - FAO Swarz of Business

I recognized the glazed eyes, the stunned expression, and the impossibility of a simple "yes" or "no." Kind of like a kid in FAO Swarz for the first time. When I repeated my question, "Are you getting what you need?" He shook his head and said, "I think so." Paused and mumbled, "Maybe." Nodded and said, "I'm not sure."

Yep. The guy is clearly on Forum overload. But not to fear, it will undoubtedly get worse, and then in a dazzling instant of clarity, he'll grin and realize that he now has business tools beyond his wildest dreams.

That's how it is at the IBI Free Enterprise Forum. The wealth of information, contacts, and opportunities absolutely boggles the mind. Of course, all those resources eventually settle into a manageable state, and our new Grad can get down to the business of doing his dream.

Even now, (this being my 10th or 11th Forum) I am amazed at the sheer magnitude of offerings here. This Forum Faculty includes giants from the television, movie, and publishing industries; cream-of-the-crop attorneys, who specialize in patents and intellectual property protection; a licensing guru of epic reputation, a branding specialist of global renown, and strategic planners, who hobnob with the Fortune 100 guys.

This is not your father's business convention.

This is a place where vision becomes reality and the human soul finds nurturing. This is a place where paradigms shift.

Wish you were here?

Wednesday, December 7, 2005 - Flower Child Dreams & Wins

I remember thinking, as we drove home from our first Forum in 1202, that IBI was like all of my Flower Child Dreams, come true. Granted, if one looks at the outside world, one finds that it's anything but peace, love, and understanding. Yet here, within the energy of The Forum, one finds all of the aforementioned. Here, diversity is a blessing, because it's recognized as an asset that adds to the perfection of the Whole. There are no barriers of age, religion, gender, or race, because we have chosen to see through our hearts, rather than through our social conditioning.

This is Sixties idealism, all grown up and changing the world with the very tools we found so threatening forty years ago.

Huge wins today, and it's only Tuesday. A returning grad and his scattered team closed a major round of funding, in addition to securing a sweet, strategic alliance with a big, BIG name personality.

A new student met Mr. Right. No, she already has a charming hubby. This Mr. Right is a giant of heart, integrity, and experience ~ not to mention formidable connections ~ who appreciates her vision of creating beauty and dignity for physically challenged youngsters.

Another hard-working grad received her first major funding. . . strategic alliances everywhere. . .

Wish you were here yet?