"What the Bleep" indeed...
I just finished watching the movie, "What the bleep do we know." I really am impressed with how events unfold in my life, because I've heard about this film for some time now, and knew I'd eventually get around to seeing it, but didn't know when. So I find it especially interesting that now, months into this work with the Law of Attraction and matching frequencies and all that stuff that makes most people get the new-age heebie jeebies, I see this movie, which is all about the science of exactly what I've been talking about. Deliberate creation is quantum physics. Thought and emotion have effects on our bodies, which is the least surprising, but also on reality, on the environment directly around us. There is proof of this when you begin to do the work, and to look for the signs. There is proof EVERYWHERE. But we're taught to mistrust our experience, to think everything is random, accidental, just some strange algorithm of chance, like shaking a bag of scrabble letters and pulling one out...BUT, quantum physics, "the science of possibilities" as one fascinating scientist referred to it, tells us that it's no accident at all. We're in a steady interaction with reality. Not only is our brain changing its chemistry (or reinforcing it) based on our beliefs/experiences/feelings, but our chemistry is interacting with the energy/matter of our environment. If you want to get really deep, really beyond comprehension, we ARE our environment. We are all just the same buzzing, bouncing, theoretical events and clumps of ideas as everything/one else, but we've all taken slightly different form.
This is the stuff I've been searching for all my life. I mean it. All the work I've ever done of a spiritual or energetic nature (having, as you now know, no religious guidance) has led me to this. Which is not to say that I ever knew exactly what I was looking for, except when I stumbled upon it.
I recognized something real when the weird hippie adults did "reiki" on me, supposedly being able to heal me through touch. I recognized something when my father became an acupuncturist early in my life and I understood that energy flows through channels in the body, becoming blocked or built-up; I knew that there was true information when in the chakra system of the body, which I learned first through becoming a massage therapist( because I could not only feel my own chakras, but those in other people's bodies, and I could see how my care and attention to those centers of my body affected the way I felt). I recognized the incredible potential when my friend Carole turned me on to "integrated awareness" and I came to understand that the different levels of tissue in the body: muscle, soft tissue, bone, etc, corresponded with different states of consciousness and different experiences in time and much more (for instance, muscular action is equivalent with mental activity. You think, your muscles flex or sometimes constrict, spasm, etc).
Realizing and now accepting that energy is the basis of EVERYTHING thrills me in ways I can't describe, because I was so sure up until this past year that I was one of those people put on this earth who did not have a spiritual path or connection. I was in a kind of spiritual limbo. I wasn't about to pick a religion, and I dabbled in a lot of different things, always seeking that which felt true to me.
I'm not interested in a spiritual path as some kind of distant lofty reality that I can bandy about at parties...for me it's about making the life I'm living more meaningful, actualized, full of potential. It's seeing what I want come to fruition, being engaged and stimulated by life and thus readying myself for the other inevitable part of life, death. That might sound morbid, but honestly, I want to get to my death with as much joy as I lived my life. There are examples in my life of people approaching their death with great trepidation and sadness, seeing the world diminish around them rather than feel expanded by the long lives they have led.
I am so happy to be alive at this time, I can't even begin to describe it.
Call my kooky or out there. I really don't care anymore.