exit babylon

exit babylon
last chance to exit babylon

Friday, January 9, 2015

trees planted in two worlds


~we are trees planted in two worlds
the upper world of wind and spirit
the lower world of earth and flesh
we do not walk between them
 they both exist in us~


If we could view the underworld of many trees on earth, where their root systems branch down and out in similar fashion to it's above ground nature of spreading up and out, we would often see a near mirror image reflected below as it is above. Like two trees united on a single trunk, one with arms reaching higher, dressed in leaves to soak in air and cosmic particles from sun and stars; and the arms of the other reaching deeper and deeper with hair-like roots to drink in water and mineral.

Wind/Spirit are the same words in Hebrew. Man/Earth (adamah) are the same words too. 
A serious problem is that many are nearly only conscious of the lower realm of flesh, it's the stream all their thoughts, motives and desires run in. Conversely, there are others who try to shun and deny as much as possible the lower realm of their existence; living in ultra asceticism like some monkish gnostic types, who see their physical nature not as a good thing but as a hindrance to be transcended beyond. Both of these extremes are out of harmony with what we were created to be, spirits having a physical experience. 

Losing a balanced perspective of either our vitality suffers, and tragically our purpose lays unfulfilled. It is possible to either do too much or too little in this life, to live busy lives lacking intention, unconsciously. Live for the flesh and we will be governed by what they call the reptilian brain focused on survival, missing completely the intangible beauty contained in the treasure of an awareness of our higher nature. i think we as people hunger for a healthy spiritual life, and that hunger is often misinterpreted by our carnality that seeks constantly -yet ever unsuccessfully- to fill the void with the material world. But if we spend decades up a mountain trying to be “one with the universe” or whatever, on some solo quest to hit the jackpot on ultimate inner tranquility, we'd still miss it.. there's a lot of real good work we'd leave undone, a lot of suffering we could have helped alleviate, a lot of need we could have addressed, a lot of love we could have spread to a hurting planet of people.. or maybe not “a lot” but even a little would have meant a lot to the one on the receiving end of our effort.

Recognizing this dual nature has enlightened my understanding on the significance of prayer and meditation. i've discovered that this is why meditation and prayer are so important; because it pulls us from the lower to the higher realm. Prayer is communicating with our life's Source, our Abba, our Creator, the Existing One. Meditation is taking time to check out from all the materialism and stuff of life and just being, not doing for a time. i've see such a huge difference when i take time for both, i have more peace, more focus, more contentment, less fear, less anxiety, less stress.. it's so worth it.

To clarify, when i say meditation i'm not speaking of the common trendy type of meditation of attempting to blank out the mind by chanting, omming or other self-hypnotic methods, but rather of spending quiet times of simply being still in body, mind and spirit. Practicing staying in the now, feeling self resting in the body, breathing; being still, not carried off elsewhere in thought or imagination. Becoming an objective observer of what comes to mind and bringing it into the light of awareness and then letting it go.



This idea of us being trees in two worlds came about on a recent Shabbat day during time spent pondering things big and small. i present it here because i found the concept interesting and decided to share. Obviously i'm not an authority on matters of spirit and mind, and clearly this is not an exhaustive piece on the subject.. basically i'm just an ordinary girl who wonders about stuff.  i mean no disrespect or insult to anyone whose opinions on prayer and meditation may be different.

Peace to you all.

Glory to Yah.


Sunday, December 28, 2014

the little runaway

People say i run away, people say i'm running now. However, the only time i officially determined to “run away” from home was when i was in grade school.. i'm not sure exactly which year, maybe third or fourth at the latest, because we still lived in the Anaheim condo when i did it, and we moved from there before i was in fifth. i remember i had a small pink suitcase and i packed it with Pepsi and Hostess ding-dongs.. my dad saw me and asked what i was doing (i wasn't allowed to drink soda usually and was never allowed to help myself to either it or the ding-dongs without explicit permission), so i informed him that i was “running away.” He didn't say anything, and i left. i walked up the street to a nearby neighbors house and proceeded to eat my stolen goods with my friend. A few hours later their phone rang, and a few minutes later my friend's mom came in the room telling me that my dad just called and said it was time to come home. Without a moments hesitation i picked up my, probably then empty, suitcase and ran back home as fast as my legs could carry me, crying with relief.  My dad was awesome, to put it mildly, and he had an intuition about how to handle different situations.. sometimes he was tough, i had definitely been spanked, and sometimes he was sensitive and quiet. In this instance he was quiet, no anger, no lecture, i just walked in and he hugged me, and i think he said something about being glad i was home. i was so wracked with guilt over what i'd done and remember being in such awe that he wasn't mad at me.. he had no condemnation for me, only mercy.  i knew on some deeper level, without an external punishment that i never wanted to do that again.


This particular event stands out so vividly in my mind because it was the first time i remember feeling what i now know was conviction of the Spirit, my conscience smote me severely, i knew what i was doing was wrong. But i kept going.. moving against the tide of regret and remorse already beginning to wash over me. As i walked up the street i wasn't relishing in my new “freedom”, in fact it didn't feel ANYTHING like i expected it to, i felt guilty and ashamed. In theory it had been a thrill, in reality it was horrible; tears sprung to my eyes, and my stomach clenched up in knots and began this dull ache that stayed with me the rest of the afternoon. i ate them, but couldn't really enjoy the treats i'd brought with me because i felt too bad. 

i don't even really remember why i did it that day, nothing happened to instigate it; i had a happy home and loving parents and a fun, stable family that laughed a lot. i had absolutely no reason to do it. i think maybe i'd just heard or read about other kids running away and for some reason the idea sounded exciting or appealing for whatever reason. i had the kind of parents that made you eat dinner with the family, made you go to bed early (like 8pm -growl-) and were really strict about things like TV and junk-food; and i think freedom to corrupt my body and mind at will (though i obviously didn't realize THAT was what the restricted stuff was all about at the time) was likely the prime motivator. 

Thankfully i realized within minutes that i belonged at home. Unlike then, now i have more comprehension (like a tiny glimmer) of what -terrorized, dangerous, degrading sad-  :''((  life is actually like for runaways on the streets (Yah bless them), and i still stand in awe at the unearned and undeserved and largely unappreciated childhood i had. i find myself very grateful for my mom and dad, and the grace of Yah.