Shalom Mountain

Last weekend, I was at Shalom Mountain for the third session of Shalom Retreat Leadership Training, where I learn more of the secrets of leading a Shalom Retreat. I've been talking about "The Mountain", as it is called, for a couple of years, so I thought I'd try to show a bit of it.

Never having done much with pictures - in fact, having a real block against them - I decided to try taking some of the trip, which is 6 hours from the DC area to the Catskills.

The drive is long, but when I get to Pennsylvania, the scenary repays me for some of the tediousness of the road. There are lots of small lakes along the route, along with bridges, quaint little towns, and lots of trees.

Finally, the magical house where it all takes place. This has been the site of Shalom workshops and retreats for 30 years. You can read about the history of it at shalommountain.com.

Inside, it is homey and friendly. Hugs are plentiful, long, and deep wherever you happen to bump into someone.

The atmosphere is loving, casual, and you feel at home easily. But the work is serious. Much of the philosophy is Jungian, but we do readings from many authors, from Ken Wilber to Starhawk. Types of workshops range from individual/family/couple/young people to sexuality/gay/lesbian/spirituality/Body Sacred. The leadership training I am in is for the "Shalom Retreat", the basic core workshop of Shalom that focuses on moving individuals through their blocks so they can live a fuller and more loving life.

I have one more weekend of training before this phase is over.

I will write about what I learned last weekend in a separate post. Hope you enjoyed this.

Comment posted by Roger Telschow
at 5/23/2006 10:08:00 PM
You did a nice job capturing some of the 'magic' that is Shalom Mountain, Gene. Thanks for the posting!

The Human Experience

Last night I went to a meditation where we watched a video of Wayne Dyer. He impressed me, appearing very different than when I had read "Pulling Your Own Strings" years ago. His heart seemed pure and egoless, and the truths he spoke of were mostly things I have been learning over the past few years in my life.

Yet I was restless. We sat around discussing ideas of letting the past go, living in the present. There is something ironic in discussing being present, in using symbols and concepts to talk about what is right in front of us and all around us. It struck me that so many of us who are interested in new age spirituality have gotten these concepts down, and can discuss them intelligently, and debate which concept is most useful - yet, as Dyer said, it is in the living that it matters, not in the discussion. I've heard and understood great deep truths from many authors; but only occassionally, does one of them actually strike something inside and transform my life. Are we just accumulating doctrines to form a new religion?

People from all ages are all faced with the same thing - life, this experience of being human. And it is within each of us to approach it with awareness and an open heart, no matter what religion, age, society, or lack thereof, we come from. I long to share my experience, and hear the experience of others, as they touch life/god/reality/the present. How can words ever define this morning, as I lay naked in the sun in my back yard, watching the dark and light leaves quiver against a deep blue sky? I can describe it, but only if you have already experienced something similar to it will you have a clue what I am talking about. It is our experience, not our concepts, that constitute life.

I lay there this morning thinking about disappointments, and dreams I was in the process of giving up, and the desires and hopes and wishes I had to juggle against the steely wall of reality. But then the sun broke through, and I became lost in the sensuality of my surroundings. I realized that in this moment, all my needs were met. I was fully satisfied. Only when I thought of what I wanted tomorrow did I experience restlessness.

Can I experience pleasure without grasping onto it, becoming afraid I won't have it again, or as often as I want? Can I experience pain without clinging to it long after it is gone, seeking care for wounds already closed? Can I have my experience of being human on this earth without making it my identity, without losing site of my true essence, the thing I was before I left the garden of Eden and wandered into the human world?

And who is this essence that I am? This essence is what I want to get to know.

Comment posted by Heidi
at 5/22/2006 11:59:00 AM
I have also had my judgements about sitting around and talking about living experiences, wondering how many of us actually went home and practiced what we considered so highly precious. I admit that I find myself weak in the practice.

And are we practicing a new religion? I kind of agree to that with a grin. After all, if a person wants to change their heart and soul and connect with like-minded people, it almost becomes a practice or religion with new doctrines attached. For this part, I try very hard to keep my faith in focus so I do not confuse what I believe with what I am experimenting with in life.

But the one thing I have learned to value deeply is the privilege of joining like-minded people whenever a gathering occurs and re-enforcing good life values and practices together. I may be weak from time to time, but having good friends who support similar values helps me come back to myself in the 'now' and "know" that I am not alone in this quest.

Thanks for reminding me of these values, Gene.

Honoring Primitive Energies

I was leaving a parking lot today, being very careful as I backed out, looking both directions, checking several times to be sure someone behind me was not also backing out, moving slowly, calculating my distance. As someone who spends his days carefully making sure programs did what they were supposed to do, and did not go outside of their proscribed bounds, I was getting irritated with the necessity of always being cautious, and indulged in the fantasy of gunning it, smashing into the cars behind me, and taking off in a blur.

Of course, my civilized self won out, and I continued carefully down the asphalt path, staying within the white lines, only doing the procribed speed limit plus whatever else I thought I could get away with, but not more. Careful, careful, careful.

Every part of us needs expression. The carefree child inside of me, who used to be able to do almost anything and not get hurt, needs a place to come out periodically. Back then, adults made sure I was in a safe world where I would not hurt myself until I could develop my own restrictions and not be limited by their rules. But when the restrictions become the focus, my inner child either rebels or dies. My freedom, chaos, and lack of control need a safe place to be expressed.

So does my anger. Anger is not useful when talking to the boss or the policeman who stopped me for speeding. But if I never express my anger, either I lose life's vital passion, or some day I will explode.

It seems as adults, we learn a new way, a way that allows us to better achieve our goals and dreams - but the lower chakra energies of sexuality, creativity, passion, need, destructiveness, aggression are truly a part of us. Our fantasies, magical thinking, impossible desires are a part of us. Perhaps our dark side with its fearful powers, its desires to be malicious, uncaring, controlling, sadistic, also need a safe outlet.

Our primitive side is nothing to be ashamed of or try to kill off; rather, it is a vital part of our very being, part of what makes us alive, what gives us passion, what makes us the beautiful, complex creatures we are.

I think I'll go out and run naked through the woods, screaming.

Comment posted by Sandra
at 5/23/2006 11:57:00 AM
Freeheart - I have just revisited your page after a while away and I love your postings here. I felt compelled to comment on our "primitive selves." I have only recently (in the last few years) come to know, and accept, and embrace, and 'hold up to the light' my most primitive self. This self keeps me grounded, is sometimes dark, is sometimes not 'civil' or 'correct,' but is most always brutally truthful. Presently, I am in the process of trying to always honor that piece (even if it's not convenient!), and it's been (so far) a fascinating journey!! Just a comment!!!

Bliss

Yet another wonderful weekend for me - I attended the International Primal Association's Spring Retreat. This is the second year I have gone.

Last year, I went through a lot of withdrawal, as I often do in groups that are run by someone other than me. I have a hard time finding my place in a group, as just a group member, and not a leader, and tend to go through issues of belonging, of wanting to be liked, of feeling different, and so on. It didn't happen this time - I flowed in with the people immediately, and felt connected.

Saturday night, I went into a state of bliss that lasted until the ride home yesterday. I think it was partially induced by a wonderful evening of dancing, the connections, and maybe my tiredness. In that state of bliss, I find it so easy to love other people. Everyone looks beautiful to me, and I feel expansive, fully connected, fully loved and loving. I have been entering a state of bliss more frequently in the last few months, as I tune in to the places that feed my soul, and open myself to the energy that is there.

Sunday morning, as we were doing our "mat track", where everyone spends time alone or in pairs emoting whatever feelings were up for them, I lay in the sunlight in my bliss, listening to the various emotions being expressed all around me. Were someone to take those sounds seriously, they would think people were in extreme pain, or ready to kill someone, or in the depths of despair. Yet I knew in an hour, everyone would get up, be happy, well-adjusted adults, and carry on with the day.

What occurred to me was this: I go through many emotions in the course of a week. Some times I feel lousy about myself, and have a hard time believing I have ever done anything worthwhile. Sometimes I feel I am wonderful, and the world is wonderful. Sometimes I am angry, or a victim, or frightened, and my beliefs about the world shift every time my emotions shift. Yet, somewhere underneath it all, is an "I" that does not change. There is something that was angry one day and happy the next, and that is the true me, the one having the emotions. Likewise with the people around me, even if they appear angry, or scary, or better than or less than, somewhere underneath the emotions, underneath their actions, is a real person. If I get to know the real person under my emotions, and the real person underneath others' actions, there can be a connection that cannot be shaken.

My state of bliss has passed this morning, yet I am still here, content. I am not my feelings. I am something that has feelings, and when those feelings have passed, I am still here. I do not have to be in a state of bliss to be present in the world; nor does a state of despair mean my value is in question. There is a solidness about that, a groundedness that lands deeply within me.

I want to better get to know this mysterious "I" that lives under the covers of my life, and can also be hidden so deeply underneath the way others present themselves. I suspect this "I" in all of us is really the same.

Happy Dog Meditation

A month ago, I was at Shalom Mountain, standing naked in the sun on a hill top, and fell into a state of joy and awareness of my surroundings. I let my attention be caught by any movement, any sound, any object. I was in a state of wordless joy for many minutes, and felt alive and at peace. I called it my "Happy Dog Meditation".

Picture a golden lab, fur rippling in the sunlight, alive, full of life. He is happy, tongue hanging, content. A bird passes overhead and his ears go up, his head whips around, and he is fully focused. Then he looks at you, happy again, wanting to play. You pick up a stick, and he goes wild, barking, jumping, eagerly waiting to run wherever you throw it. He whines with anticipation. There is no mind. There are no thoughts, no ponderings. There is no hesitation, no theorizing about the past or planning on the future. Everything is absorbed with eagerness, and he is happy.

So here's how to do the Happy Dog Meditation:

1. Observe everything. Don't control your attention, or focus on something to exclude other things - let everything grab your attention spontaneously, without any plan.

2. Empty your mind. Don't ask, "What was that?" Don't label what you see or hear, not even "Bird!" or "Squirrel!". Don't wonder why something is as it is. Let your mind rest.

3. Be happy. Let go of everything you think should be different than it is - don't wish for what is not, or resent what is. Be open to what you discover.

How do you know when you are no longer meditating?

1. There are words in your head. Every word will cause a fog to come over your eyes and ears, and you won't observe as clearly as before.

2. Your eyes blur or stop moving. When you are no longer looking or seeing what you are looking at, you have lost the present. Start looking again.

3. You become curious what something is, or why it is, or where it went, or how it might change. All these put limits on what you can see. Shed the limits, and observe.

Happy dog. Good dog.
Rub, rub.
Pant, pant.

A Need For Love

The weekend stays on my mind. I notice that I make no demands of the people there, nor of the people in the other communities that feed me, as I often do in relationship. I don't insist people be a certain way, or act a certain way, or have a certain attitude.

To be sure, people there don't always meet my standards. If I created a list of the characteristics of my ideal community, none of the groups I am in would measure up. But when I simply experience what is there, and experience what I get out of a given community, I often find much love, joy, contentment. Needs I do not know I have are met, and the needs I think I have, I don't even think about.

My deep craving for love can make me push love away because it doesn't look the way I expect it to look. The moment I think, if only the world were this way, I become a victim, believing that I have a critical need that life is inadequate to meet. Pain we cannot avoid; being a victim is optional. Our scarcity is of our own creation, not the creation that surrounds us.

Giving up the desire to control the love I receive strips me naked. There is no longer protection from the pain of being unloved; nor is there protection from love, when it does come, with its life-altering power.

Being Loved As I Am

This past weekend I spent at a Beltane retreat that I go to each year, and I came away from it glowing. I realize that I have become part of the community there. I am known, recognized, appreciated, and respected for the individual I am as well as the workshops I do. So many people came to me with nothing but love to give, and I felt completely accepted and loved. It felt like home.

I have a deep need to remember times like this. I also feel a similar love in my own community which has grown up around the gatherings I have had in my home, as well as at Shalom Mountain and a few other places. These are bright spots in my life to warm me when the night grows cold.

Many who have known me at home have been with me through deep struggles with depression, childhood abuse, mood swings, and various relationship issues. I noted with surprise that at Beltane, almost no one knows of my dark times, yet I still feel accepted. I used to feel that someone had to know all my wounds before they would really know me - now I'm seeing that something other than my woundings is shining through, and people love me without knowing my history.

Maybe I no longer need all of my pain in order to go deep. Maybe, finally, I am beginning to let go of being a victim.