Synchronicity

This weekend, I got the same message from two completely disparate sources. They couldn't have less to do with each other, and yet, they said the same thing.

My kyudo shishou, on his Facebook page, said "Our state of mind must first be giving. We must first offer what we want, in order to receive. And then we must be open to receive."

And also this weekend, I saw on DVD, the Galactica movie The Plan. Which, if you're a BSG fan, I strongly recommend. (Quick caution: The version that airs will be significantly more family friendly, some young ones might not be ready for a few of the scenes on the DVD version.) One of the most touching themes of this film is the power of being open to things that arise within, and come from no one knows where, that will totally transform you, that will enable you to transcend yourself and become something greater than you ever imagined you could be. But part and parcel of that whole process is giving of yourself--which can catalyze transcending yourself merely through the act of giving.

In trying to be honest with myself about what I can't do, I am trying to be open and honest about what I can do. And how what I actually can do (which can vary considerably from day to day) may not be precisely what I used to be able to do... but that doesn't necessarily make it "worse." What I actually "currently can do" has nothing to do with my ego-image of "the stuff I can do." It's an interesting struggle, to detach from the ego-inflating concepts regarding those "things I can do" and instead to be fully participating in, and enjoy, the things I actually can do.

Which, when I can do them, can still be pretty cool, all things considered.

Kai

Kai: meeting. One of the hassetsu (eight steps) of kyudo. The bow is fully drawn; kai is, according to one author, the "spiritual draw" of the bow, the moment at which we "pass the baton to God" and prepare for the mystical moment of the release, when the arrow leaves the bow and flies towards the target.

Yesterday, I got a wonderfully elegant and eloquent note from a friend who also has MS, and he described how he realized that he had realized that there was no cure, no valid treatment, no known cause, and an unpredictable course, and after a very long struggle with a lot of negative emotions he came to the realization that the only thing to do was to live fully. Now. Today. And it strengthened his resolve to live to the fullest and work on himself, without delay. Now. Today.

He had come to his moment of kai. And, then, experienced the mystery that is the release.

And now, every day, he "shoots again." (A very beautiful bit of kyudo practice and philosophy, I'm sure I've mentioned this before... Hit the target? OK. Shoot again. Missed the target? OK. Shoot again.)

In my own kyudo practice, at one point I realized that I was afraid of the bow and the arrow. I was always holding it away from myself, rather than bringing myself to it and meeting it. (Meeting? Hm...) Now I'm less afraid of it, I'm willing to actually bring the arrow up to my face where it's supposed to rest before it's released... but I have to be truthful, I think I'm still giving that moment lip service. I think I'm still not willing to bring myself fully to the bow, to give myself fully to the bow: to truly, fully, and completely, meet it.

Thus it is with me and MS. I have yet to really, truthfully come to kai. To bring myself to the arrow, to the bow, and fully give myself to the truth.

The bow and the arrow always tell you the truth about yourself.

I am so missing the target right now... Well then, OK. Shoot again.

Reassembled (for now)

Thank goodness for today's acupuncture. A double block... no wonder I didn't feel like doing anything. My head's still spinning a bit from a couple of the points, but given the choice between those needles and concomitant spins and the blocks, I'll take the needles.

Two prescriptions: Do a particular meditation daily, and do more kyudo. The first is to help me get out of the spiritual rut I'm in (which will help me get out of the energetic rut), and the second to get me to do some serious breathing (and oh yeah, the other things kyudo does for me, which will contribute to the getting out of the spiritual/energetic rut). I've really been craving air and light; although the bed has been very attractive over the last week or two, and I've spent much of my time there, I've really "caught a spark" those few moments I went outside. Fortunately, LA is warming up this week, so it'll be easier to open the house's windows, and to get myself outside.

One of the key points of the meditation he wants me to do is that it's offered for the benefit of all. He says (of his own process) that he sometimes gets into a state where he doesn't want to do something for himself, but when he's doing it for the benefit of all, he can find the energy. Certainly, when I need to take care of my wife when she's got a migraine, it doesn't matter how crappy I feel, I can summon whatever is required to take care of her. Even when I'm completely sucked dry of energy at school, if one of the students needs attention, I can provide it. Certainly, a central tenet of the type of kyudo I do is that what you are doing is an offering of yourself.

And this is also a central tenet in my school of kyudo: You cannot receive until you give.

I've been wanting a change. I'm tired of being empty. Looks to me like the first steps on the pathway out of emptiness are in front of me.

Let's see if I can muster the willingness to start walking it.