building a beautiful and bountiful world in collaboration with nature

Archive for November, 2011

Fun with ‘Maris Widgeon’ Wheat

We are having a long fall here in the Sierra foothills with a beautiful bonus week of 60 degree temperatures.  I decided to take advantage of the weather and plant a small patch of winter wheat following the planting ritual in the Anastasia book.

My husband, Tom, felt inspired to try it too, so we weeded a roughly six-foot by four-foot patch of long-fallowed garden bed, leaving the young mallow plants growing along the edges. (Mallow makes a tasty wild salad green.)  A couple of wheelbarrows of compost from the turkey pen completed our prep work.

Standing barefoot in the bed, we placed a few of the seeds to be planted under our tongues.  Tom did a Qigong breathing exercise.  I just closed my eyes and basked in the warm sun while waiting out the nine minute minimum for this part of the procedure.  Eleven minutes later we held the seeds in our palms, breathed on them, and held them open to the sky, after which we planted them and enough other seed to fill the bed.

The first thing we both noticed was how much fun we were having.  We both enjoy gardening, but this seemed to include the curiosity/dopamine effect of trying something new.  Neither of us goes around barefoot outside in general and never in November.  My feet felt pleasantly tingly for the rest of the day and evening.

It will be many months before the wheat is harvested and eaten and we get to enjoy the health benefits the plants will have designed for us.  The glow of planting in this way continues for me now, however.  It was just plain laugh-out-loud fun.  I’m wondering if it’s too late in the season to plant some carrots or beets.

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Shifting the Kaleidoscope’s View

After enjoying a rainy Sunday complete with French toast, hot chocolate, a good book, and several rounds of musical chairs with the cats and dogs for those really comfy spots by the fire, I’m ready to step back outside, pruning shears and rake in hand.  As I  mosey my way through this season’s garden clean-up, I find myself thinking a lot about next year.  What do I want to create next year?  What possibilities, what infinite potentials does this part of the Earth hold?  Considering those possibilities over the past weeks, I find my attention consistently being redirected toward the essential message of quantum physics: consciousness matters.

First, I saw Ayako Sekino’s U Tube video “Vision for a New Earth” last week.  She speaks in Japanese and has a beautiful, lyrical voice that was a pleasure to listen to as I read the subtitles.  The video is an hour and 25 minutes, but worth the time as it offers some of the clearest explanations and analogies I’ve heard of how the world works and how we create.  Ayako talked briefly about quantum physics, distilling it down to an essential insight: the world is a fuzzy wave form until we focus in on a part of it. Our focus is what “collapses the wave” into a seemingly solid reality.  Don’t like that solid reality?  Pull your focus back, shift your consciousness/vibration (she offers some techniques), and then notice the changes when you return your focus to that part of the wave.

There’s also the crop circle photo resting above my couch.  It says the same thing.  Crop circles are a very unique form of gardening, perhaps a bit like Zen gardening with the emphasis on shape and pattern and the underlying structure of a garden.  In the authentic crop circles the nodes near the base of the stems are stimulated to grow quickly and unevenly, thus causing the crop to lie down.  The intricacy and precision with which this process is carried out is stunning.  The fact that the plants continues to grow and make seeds is next to magickal.

The crop circle image above my couch is of one of this year’s circles, one that resonated with me.  Looking at it daily over the past few months while reading books like The Source Field Investigations, The Bond, and now Anastasia, my rational mind has begun to understand the symbolism of this particular communication.  It’s basic quantum physics.

The fundamental – and totally revolutionary- insight of quantum physics is that consciousness is an inherent, necessary part of the fabric that creates matter, this apparent reality of “solid things”.  For over 100 years now the double slit experiment and variations of it have shown that matter exists only as a wave – as energy, as “infinite potential” – until someone or something with the ability to observe and measure comes along.  Someday the equation will read: Energy + Consciousness = Matter.

The energy in this equation, however, is not light, or X-rays, or microwaves, or any other form of energy in the electromagnetic spectrum.  It may be related to gravity. (We don’t actually know what gravity is, just most of the rules it follows.)  It may be the “dark energy” postulated to exist by astrophysicists.  It is a “subtle” energy.  Some call it life force energy.  Russian scientists often call it torsion energy because it creates a field that is torus-shaped.  Something like a spiraling doughnut.

In the crop circle I’ve been living with there is an outer ring with 4 spiraling arms: a torus field shape.  This passes into a middle band, round on its outer edge and becoming a 10-sided decagon on its inside edge.  This middle band is textured or patterned, though my photo doesn’t show the details clearly.  The inside of the decagon contains fine lines forming a 10 pointed star and other shapes described by symmetries with fives and ten.

The basic message here is clear.  Torsion or subtle energy interacting with this middle band becomes the apparent structured reality of matter.  We know from quantum physics that consciousness, the ability to observe and measure, is the interaction required to create a particle from a wave, matter from energy.  Interesting, too, that in my crop circle image the torus field and the structures of matter are clear, but that middle band of consciousness seems so fuzzy, the details of how it works so unclear.

I am reminded of the outer ring on a kaleidoscope, turning from one beautiful pattern to another.  Is there a way to dial my consciousness like that?  A way to shift from one understanding of how the world is to another completely different one?  A way that won’t require a lifetime spent in meditation?

As I have come face-to-face with this question, I find myself drawn to read the “Ringing Cedar” book series, beginning with the first one, Anastasia.  This is a non-fiction series that reads like fiction, containing some quite unusual concepts and ideas.  Among them is Anastasia’s recommendations for planting seeds so as to attain the fullest benefit possible from the human/plant relationship.  Her instructions are detailed and specific and include holding the seed under your tongue for 9 minutes while standing barefoot in the place it is to be planted.  This is but a piece of the whole procedure which is designed to give the plant maximum information about you – the human who will eventually eat the plant or its fruits.  In this way the plant can custom fit its chemistry and energy to you, healing your body of disease and creating complete well-being in your physical and mental structures.

While exploring biophotons earlier this year, I had an intuition that my vegetables were doing something along those lines, using the light emissions of our cells to tune themselves to me.  Anastasia’s procedure is a much more complete form of information exchange, letting the plants access every detail of the biology of their specific human.

The Ringing Cedar books are a portrait of a woman dialed into a very different consciousness.  The possibilities presented through the lens she uses are a fundamental shift in the underlying fabric of the “solid reality” I’ve been creating.

Next year’s garden….

I’m opening up to some very different potentials.

 

Note: Crop Circle photo taken from http://www.cropcircleconnector.com website (link here) with much appreciation. The ringing cedar website is here.

The Secret to Eternal Life: Curiosity

The darkness is more noticeable with the return to Standard time.  One of us, my husband or myself, needs to be home by 4:30pm to put the goats and donkeys back in their shelter before dark.  The frosts have put an end to the summer vegetable harvest, though the kale and collard remain unfazed by the cold, and my artichoke plants are already 2 feet tall and bright green after their mid-summer dormancy.

The early darkness gives me some extra reading time.  I am still making my way through Lynn McTaggert’s The Bond and came across a very interesting section last night.  She reports that when humans and animals feel curious we produce dopamine, the “feel-good” neurotransmitter.  Feeling curious, being on the hunt for the new and unknown, is a reward in itself, and one study of people over seventy showed that a sense of curiosity – not diet or lifestyle – was the most significant factor in survival.

Neurobiologists have also discovered that the hypothalamus is the part of the brain that houses this “seeking mode”, this sense of active curiosity.  The hypothalamus is a central hub for the brain synchronizing the autonomic system (all that stuff your body does without your thinking about it – like breathing), integrating feelings into a cohesive response, and connecting with the pineal gland and limbic system to transfer those “gut feelings” into our conscious minds.

It would seem that curiosity stimulates our ability to integrate information from all sources and all levels of perception.  When I’m feeling curious, I’m more open, more capable of noticing what my 5 physical senses are registering, more capable of letting in the information flowing through my Jacobson’s organ and through the electromagnetic system of the heart.  I am more capable of receiving the symbolic information feeding into my right brain and the messages coming from the neurons in my gut and kidneys.  In curiosity mode my bodymind is supremely primed to integrate and utilize a much larger proportion of those 20-40 billion bits of information per second that it take in.

All of this stops – the dopamine production, the hypothalamus activity – when we decide we have found what was sought.  Clearly, this is the philosopher’s stone, the secret to eternal life, we are talking about.  Staying open and curious, always seeking the next deeper layer, turning every answer into the next question, this is the stance that creates Life.

Thinking about this reminded me of information in Bruce Lipton’s The Biology of Belief.  Cells have essentially two modes: growth and defense.  A cell can grow or it can defend itself, but it can’t do both at the same time.  Defensiveness is a stance that minimizes the flow of information and physical nutrients into a cell.  Without a full flow, the cell ceases to grow.  Maintained long enough, defensiveness itself leads to death.  The antidote to this is curiosity, noticing the world with a mind that is willing to suspend judgement and ask questions instead.

A plethora of gray and orange bugs came to live in and eat my kale plants this past summer.  I hadn’t met these particular bugs before, nor were they familiar to other gardeners in my area who were also finding them.  The kale were all volunteers that came up in two patches in the pathways.  I let them grow, stepping over and around them.  When it became evident that the bugs were damaging the leaves, I thinned out one of the patches to just two large, well-spaced plants.  The gray/orange bugs (GOBs) all moved to the dense kale patch and left the well-ventilated plants alone.  An interesting method of “control”.

When the ‘Lebanese Green’ round zucchini plant flopped onto the dense kale patch, I lost track of the GOBs for a while.  Eventually they showed up in the fine-leaved, “wild” arugula, another vigorous self-sower.  I would love to have turned some chickens or ducks loose in the garden for a half hour to see if they found the GOBs to be a delicacy.  I never got to it.  By now it’s been several weeks since I’ve seen a GOB.  How do they overwinter?  Will they return next year?  What prompted their arrival in the first place?  Do they have natural predators in this area?

I have enjoyed the feeling of open-ended curiosity that the GOBs helped me bring to the garden, and now I know why: dopamine.  I understand my reluctance to seek answers from a book or an “expert”, my preference to learn from my own experience with them.  By prolonging the exploration as long as possible, I continue to produce dopamine, I keep my hypothalamus active and engaged, I create within myself a feeling of Aliveness.  Reliving  this as I write about it, I am once again suffused with a feeling of Well-Being.  Curiosity truly is a wonderful thing.

Forget Not

My father sent me a birthday card earlier in the year with a gorgeous photo of crocus flowers and a quote by Kahul Gibran:

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet, and the winds long to play with your hair.

I do forget.  It is easy to get caught up in the seriousness that is expected of adults, so I keep the card in a place where I will see it and read it and be reminded.

I was out doing some fall garden cleanup on Friday, cutting back peonies and oregano, as well as transplanting a rose bush.  It was our first truly cold, finger-nipping day of the season, topping out around 48 degrees with plenty of clouds that sometimes parted to let the sun warm my back while I worked.  At 2:30, as I was completing the rose transplant, a few flakes of snow drifted down then turned to a peppering of hail, then rain, then back to hail.

Earth and sky were playing with me in a beautiful dance of warm-and-cold, peek-a-boo, with a fun finale (the hail) as I was finishing up. Fanciful that might seem to some, but very real to me.

Forget not that the Earth loves your presence here. Your evolution has been purposeful, directed, imbued with meaning.  Forget not that She delights to feel your hands caressing her soils, and She loves to feel your laughter on the wind.