So as many people know, I have been involved with Landamrk Education since about 1996. Landmark has helped to give me tools to communicate, keep my past in my past, be present and create any future I want. It has helped me learn to get into other people's worlds, see their views, get the difference between things that have happened vs. my perception over things that happened. And it has also given me some of the most amazing friendships on the planet.
I have coached self expression and leadership programs, taken courses, etc. But this past weekend I volunteered to assist at the Landmark Forum for Young People- for kids ages 8-12, with a few 7 year olds as well. Of course I focussed on how horrible it was to get up so early, how my feet ached, etc. But that's what I do to not be present. And when I was, I got some amazing insights and the profound honor of helping young people avoid struggling and suffering for 20+ years as many of us adults have. They now have the power to realize that their thoughts control their reality and to change and monitor those thoughts in order to have a life of possibility, happiness and love.
One of the hardest things for me to be present to, as a teacher, was walking into a room full of 70 kids and seeing them all fidget, twist in their seats, talk and chomp on their name tags. I was incensed. They weren't listening! But through the coaching of one of the leaders, I got that it was I who wasn't listening. To who they are. When I told a woman that I preferred high school kids because they could sit still I saw that sitting still and "behaving", with your mouths closed and your hands in your laps, is the result of having your self expression squashed. I remember that in my own courses, I tap my foot, want to check my phone and sometimes poke my friends. And that little people who twist and fidget are actually self expressed. When they completely behave and never make a peep - they may have lost the light inside of them.
Now this is just one interpretation, but it's one that allows me to be, in my classroom, with kids the way they are. I think back to this one boy in one of my classes who moved around the back of the room and stood up a lot. He never talked or disturbed anyone and his parents had told me that he needed to do that. And yet I still saw that as "bad behavior." But if a child needs to move, and can do it for him or herself and not distract the other students, then they may just be expressing themselves and taking care of what they need. And it is not a personal failure on my part that they're not completely and deathly quiet with hands in their laps and glazed, obedient eyes.
This weekend when the participants' parents went to their own session they looked at what a "perfect parent" would be and filled a board with all their judgements, opinions and comparisons and saw that this got in the way of them just being with their children. It made me look at how hard I was on myself with my own images of what the "perfect teacher" would look like.
We saw how we all just have different views and the benefits of eliminating "right and wrong" from our minds and just seeing that we all have different views. And it good to often look at situations from the other's point of view.
And after all the fidgeting and talking and me worrying that these young people "just didn't listen or get it" I witnessed, at the end, these little ones get up, face their parents and each state a possibility for their lives, what they could be counted on for, what they were giving up and what they wanted to acknowledge their families for. And I saw that from 7-12 they each got it. And their parents were all teary eyed as their young ones said they were inventing such things as the possibility of courage, happiness and love; could be counted on to do chores, take care of their little brothers and sisters and go to college; they'd give up anger, boredom, bad attitudes and loneliness; and they acknowledged their families for loving, caring and supporting them no matter what.
So in the end, after escorting kids to the bathroom, making snacks, setting up a room and running microphones, it was the greatest privilege of all to be in the presence of these future leaders, knowing all the lives they would touch, move and inspire for the rest of their long and beautiful lives.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Goodbye Tudors. (A Rated PG-14 blog for sexual content)
As we say goodbye to “The Tudors” for the second time (the first was over 400 years ago) I am filled with mixed feelings. I loved the show and yet also had a few issues with it, the least of which was that I kept watching, hoping to learn things I could bring into my Middle Ages Class that I taught to 7th grade Orthodox Jewish boys, but with lovely scenes like the one where Henry whacked off while the “Royal Spluge Catcher” held the royal spluge bowl under him, I saw that this was not to be. I also wondered what that guy told his son’s class on Career Day. “Well, Harold, the King has certain stresses he needs to let go of and daddy… um… catches it.”
Besides the amazing employment opportunities that we don’t even consider in this Recession world, I have two other beefs (or muttons) with the show.
1. It’s called “The Tudors” and yet it starts and ends with Henry VIII. This really pisses me off. Hollywood has taught me that he had a few other kids and they took over, so why end with his death? It should be called “Henry VIII And His Serious Romantic Issues” since that’s all it was about. And it let me down. I know I can rent “Elizabeth” and see what comes next but all the “Darrening” (see previous blog) and having different actors play all the parts would confuse me. Come on Showtime, a few more seasons to show the Tudors, not just Henry.
2. And I share this anger with a nice Irish beautician: For four seasons Henry has had many mistresses and wives (and believe me, it was better to be a mistress) and each time, it was hot and sexy, and he was hot and sexy and there really was no reason for the Royal Spluge Catcher because, well… apparently that was the woman’s role… but I digress. What the Irish beautician and I vehemently agreed on, was that whenever we watched those scenes we pulled ourselves out (no pun intended) and said, “But it wasn’t like that at all!” I’ve seen photos. He was fat and bearded and always had a chicken leg in his hand. And what she informed me was – not only that but also he had an infected leg that always pussed out and he smelled really, really rank. So now I think back to all of those hot, steamy scenes and rethink them as him fat, pussing, smelly, and where did he put the chicken leg? He wasn’t Jonathan Rys Myer (spelling?) – who by the way, waited until the last two episodes to actually age – he was Dick Cheney.
Years ago my big brother Evan did what all big brothers do and shattered my illusions that TV and movies will tell you exactly what happened in history when he told me the movie “Mobsters” wasn’t true. “No, Beverly, all those Mafia guys didn’t know each other and hang out together when they were really hot teens.” As a Jew, this was my version of – “There is no Santa Claus.” What? Meyer Lansky wasn’t really hot? So I approached “The Tudors” with a bit of a discerning eye as I had with the miniseries “Rome.” But with both I enjoyed getting a sense of the time, place and costumes as well as how seriously people of the past took religion. “The Tudors” was a fun ride that I think shouldn’t have ended. I think the really hot Mary should continue on along with that kid with buck teeth they got to play Elizabeth. I wonder how many little actors would play Edward who only lived to be 15.MY point is - if they can spin “Joanie Loves Chachi” from “Happy Days” and “Gloria” from “All In The Family” why won’t some station take over this show and call it “Tudor Me” ?
Anyone?
Besides the amazing employment opportunities that we don’t even consider in this Recession world, I have two other beefs (or muttons) with the show.
1. It’s called “The Tudors” and yet it starts and ends with Henry VIII. This really pisses me off. Hollywood has taught me that he had a few other kids and they took over, so why end with his death? It should be called “Henry VIII And His Serious Romantic Issues” since that’s all it was about. And it let me down. I know I can rent “Elizabeth” and see what comes next but all the “Darrening” (see previous blog) and having different actors play all the parts would confuse me. Come on Showtime, a few more seasons to show the Tudors, not just Henry.
2. And I share this anger with a nice Irish beautician: For four seasons Henry has had many mistresses and wives (and believe me, it was better to be a mistress) and each time, it was hot and sexy, and he was hot and sexy and there really was no reason for the Royal Spluge Catcher because, well… apparently that was the woman’s role… but I digress. What the Irish beautician and I vehemently agreed on, was that whenever we watched those scenes we pulled ourselves out (no pun intended) and said, “But it wasn’t like that at all!” I’ve seen photos. He was fat and bearded and always had a chicken leg in his hand. And what she informed me was – not only that but also he had an infected leg that always pussed out and he smelled really, really rank. So now I think back to all of those hot, steamy scenes and rethink them as him fat, pussing, smelly, and where did he put the chicken leg? He wasn’t Jonathan Rys Myer (spelling?) – who by the way, waited until the last two episodes to actually age – he was Dick Cheney.
Years ago my big brother Evan did what all big brothers do and shattered my illusions that TV and movies will tell you exactly what happened in history when he told me the movie “Mobsters” wasn’t true. “No, Beverly, all those Mafia guys didn’t know each other and hang out together when they were really hot teens.” As a Jew, this was my version of – “There is no Santa Claus.” What? Meyer Lansky wasn’t really hot? So I approached “The Tudors” with a bit of a discerning eye as I had with the miniseries “Rome.” But with both I enjoyed getting a sense of the time, place and costumes as well as how seriously people of the past took religion. “The Tudors” was a fun ride that I think shouldn’t have ended. I think the really hot Mary should continue on along with that kid with buck teeth they got to play Elizabeth. I wonder how many little actors would play Edward who only lived to be 15.MY point is - if they can spin “Joanie Loves Chachi” from “Happy Days” and “Gloria” from “All In The Family” why won’t some station take over this show and call it “Tudor Me” ?
Anyone?
Saturday, June 5, 2010
My Ayahuasca Experience - As Much as I can Describe
The shaman prepared a booklet for us in advance and it stated:
"Above all else, this Journey will be about Spirit and deepening our connection to the world of Spirit. Partaking of the indigenous healing medicines can offer an acceleration into the spiritual world that is profound and very real."
Although some friends said: "I looked it up and you're going to poop and puke simultaneously."
One friend said it was an amazing experience and he shared some incredible things with me.
My friend who brought me goes monthly and says it cured her of cocaine addiction.
On "Weeds" it looked horrible but Mary Louise Parker looked very pretty.
So I didn't know what to expect.
I'd love to be able to explain it all but I can't as some things are to be experienced. And everyone's experience is different, even in the room last night. Also they say you will gain wisdom and that is hard to share. Knowledge can be explained. Wisdom sometimes can't.
That said I will state the process, a few things I realized and how I feel today.
After following a strict purifying regimen for a few days, about 21 people gathered in this couple's home. Why they would open their homes to 21 people who just may poop or puke, god knows. But then when we were all sleeping on the floor and they retired to their bedroom, I almost wanted 21 people to hurl in my home, just so I could lay on my comfy mattress. But to just let you know, some hurled, some didn't, no one pooped. And we all were told to bring buckets. That's right, folks, buckets.
So we all made our little camps, got to know each other, and were introduced to the shaman, and the shaman's even more shamanic friend from Peru - Tito. Tito spoke no English but didn't have to. He fluttered like a bird and emanated love and warmth. So did the American Shaman.
We met each other, I was surprised that I knew one person from television, and my friend set up a space next to me and brought out all her little articles that she brings, since this was her 15th time. Apparently she needed lip balm and a mint since the medicine was very nasty tasting. It is referred to as medicine, not drugs. I can get that. Especially the day after.
I did a thumbs up to the lady across who also was doing it to for the first time, and the ceremony began. There's so much that occurred and I can write about it but that won't do the experience justice. We all drank (it was nasty) simultaneously and then these big hearted men sang, danced and somehow intuited our every need. My friend warned me that the taste was nasty and the waiting until it took effect was also not her favorite part. I waited and closed my eyes. The lights were out and music often played.
For a while I assumed it didn't work. Then I saw little purple things. I figured this wasn't such a big thing. Then my thoughts turned to clay. That's the best way to explain it. What wasn't too enjoyable was the sound of other people enjoying their buckets, what was enjoyable were some amazing moments of vision and feeling. At one point Tito grabbed my right leg and shook it and talked in Spanish. It was only after that I realized it had been shaking on its own. He also touched my head and heart (literally) and I got caught up in the music (remember, it's dark and we're all closing our eyes.) I went through a lot, but mostly judgements of how I thought it was supposed to go and I gave those up. I wanted to hurl- "la purga" - because it signified a huge release, but I didn't. And then I just told the medicine to do what it was supposed to without my preconceptions. And it did. Some of it didn't feel well or look pretty, some did. I finally gave in to some sleep afterwards, but I got one thing for sure: I, a literal writer person, expected healing and release to be literal. Like, I'd see my mother, yell at her and let it go. That was how I thought healing went. It didn't. What I got were a lot of jumbles and visions and symbols and such. And what I really got was that I don't have to understand healing, just trust it's taking place. And it did.
Because when I woke up, even with little sleep, I felt better, more content, present and balanced than I have in months. My chronic hip pain wasn't there. My headache was gone. I felt good. Strangely enough, after being told not to eat after 1pm yesterday, at 7am today all the contributions for a light, healthy breakfast didn't appeal to me. It is now 3:32 and I haven't eaten much or wanted to. We spent the morning watching the shaman be amazing with a woman who had a not so good experience after drinking twice, and then we went around and shared what we got. It was incredible. I asked a translator to help me ask Tito why he shook my foot, and he said my right side called to him. That I had problems with masculine energy and that made a lot of sense. I have been running myself crazy on work, work and more work without nurturing my feminine side- my heart. This also explained why my left shoulder seized up. He worked on me in the morning and opened my heart up more. He is a very beautiful man, that Tito.
Many others are doing another journey tonight and part of me envies them. I would like to go deeper and push myself through the "portal" since a lot of my first time was about battling with my head and judgements. But tomorrow is the 8th grade Orthodox Jewish girls' play and since I didn't know what to expect, I decided to have Saturday to recuperate so I wouldn't rush from a two day journey onto the stage in the middle of act two and puke and swat imaginary pineapple people. (Pineapple people was an actual share by someone of what she saw. That made me happy).
I am proud of myself for my commitment to self growth, to facing fears and to taking an adventure. It wasn't all fun but I will do it again.
Thank you for letting me share.
"Above all else, this Journey will be about Spirit and deepening our connection to the world of Spirit. Partaking of the indigenous healing medicines can offer an acceleration into the spiritual world that is profound and very real."
Although some friends said: "I looked it up and you're going to poop and puke simultaneously."
One friend said it was an amazing experience and he shared some incredible things with me.
My friend who brought me goes monthly and says it cured her of cocaine addiction.
On "Weeds" it looked horrible but Mary Louise Parker looked very pretty.
So I didn't know what to expect.
I'd love to be able to explain it all but I can't as some things are to be experienced. And everyone's experience is different, even in the room last night. Also they say you will gain wisdom and that is hard to share. Knowledge can be explained. Wisdom sometimes can't.
That said I will state the process, a few things I realized and how I feel today.
After following a strict purifying regimen for a few days, about 21 people gathered in this couple's home. Why they would open their homes to 21 people who just may poop or puke, god knows. But then when we were all sleeping on the floor and they retired to their bedroom, I almost wanted 21 people to hurl in my home, just so I could lay on my comfy mattress. But to just let you know, some hurled, some didn't, no one pooped. And we all were told to bring buckets. That's right, folks, buckets.
So we all made our little camps, got to know each other, and were introduced to the shaman, and the shaman's even more shamanic friend from Peru - Tito. Tito spoke no English but didn't have to. He fluttered like a bird and emanated love and warmth. So did the American Shaman.
We met each other, I was surprised that I knew one person from television, and my friend set up a space next to me and brought out all her little articles that she brings, since this was her 15th time. Apparently she needed lip balm and a mint since the medicine was very nasty tasting. It is referred to as medicine, not drugs. I can get that. Especially the day after.
I did a thumbs up to the lady across who also was doing it to for the first time, and the ceremony began. There's so much that occurred and I can write about it but that won't do the experience justice. We all drank (it was nasty) simultaneously and then these big hearted men sang, danced and somehow intuited our every need. My friend warned me that the taste was nasty and the waiting until it took effect was also not her favorite part. I waited and closed my eyes. The lights were out and music often played.
For a while I assumed it didn't work. Then I saw little purple things. I figured this wasn't such a big thing. Then my thoughts turned to clay. That's the best way to explain it. What wasn't too enjoyable was the sound of other people enjoying their buckets, what was enjoyable were some amazing moments of vision and feeling. At one point Tito grabbed my right leg and shook it and talked in Spanish. It was only after that I realized it had been shaking on its own. He also touched my head and heart (literally) and I got caught up in the music (remember, it's dark and we're all closing our eyes.) I went through a lot, but mostly judgements of how I thought it was supposed to go and I gave those up. I wanted to hurl- "la purga" - because it signified a huge release, but I didn't. And then I just told the medicine to do what it was supposed to without my preconceptions. And it did. Some of it didn't feel well or look pretty, some did. I finally gave in to some sleep afterwards, but I got one thing for sure: I, a literal writer person, expected healing and release to be literal. Like, I'd see my mother, yell at her and let it go. That was how I thought healing went. It didn't. What I got were a lot of jumbles and visions and symbols and such. And what I really got was that I don't have to understand healing, just trust it's taking place. And it did.
Because when I woke up, even with little sleep, I felt better, more content, present and balanced than I have in months. My chronic hip pain wasn't there. My headache was gone. I felt good. Strangely enough, after being told not to eat after 1pm yesterday, at 7am today all the contributions for a light, healthy breakfast didn't appeal to me. It is now 3:32 and I haven't eaten much or wanted to. We spent the morning watching the shaman be amazing with a woman who had a not so good experience after drinking twice, and then we went around and shared what we got. It was incredible. I asked a translator to help me ask Tito why he shook my foot, and he said my right side called to him. That I had problems with masculine energy and that made a lot of sense. I have been running myself crazy on work, work and more work without nurturing my feminine side- my heart. This also explained why my left shoulder seized up. He worked on me in the morning and opened my heart up more. He is a very beautiful man, that Tito.
Many others are doing another journey tonight and part of me envies them. I would like to go deeper and push myself through the "portal" since a lot of my first time was about battling with my head and judgements. But tomorrow is the 8th grade Orthodox Jewish girls' play and since I didn't know what to expect, I decided to have Saturday to recuperate so I wouldn't rush from a two day journey onto the stage in the middle of act two and puke and swat imaginary pineapple people. (Pineapple people was an actual share by someone of what she saw. That made me happy).
I am proud of myself for my commitment to self growth, to facing fears and to taking an adventure. It wasn't all fun but I will do it again.
Thank you for letting me share.
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