Monthly Archives: July 2020

Practical, changes through energy work, good, bad and ugly: (part two)

Almost every culture in human history has been well aware of energy-force manipulation potential by humans.  They’ve recognized both the positive, and the negative applications as well as the ‘choice’ factor by the person using the energy.  Some modern cultures still do.

  • Not more than two decades have passed since the last ‘witch’ was killed by unanimous community consent on the Zuni Rez.
  • Five, or so, years ago a school bus full of Zuni youngsters on a field trip across Din’e lands were thrown into such a state of terror upon sighting a Navajo ‘Skin-Walker’, that several had to be hospitalized.
  • One of the darker, unspoken secrets in Navajo country during the last generation is the growing epidemic of ‘Skin-Walkers’, proliferating throughout the Rez.  Why it’s happening remains a mystery because most Navajo won’t even speak of it among themselves, except in whispers.
  • On the Din’e Rez a violated piece of sacred ground of the Old Ones, near Nageezi, which happens to include a roadway intesection, has been the scene of more Navajo deaths than any place since the Trail of Tears to Bosque Redondo in 1864.  Din’e families continue to use it and continue to die there, despite the fact it only needs cleansing by an energy worker and removal of certain artifacts to another, similarly sacred piece of earth elsewhere.  Why?  Because the Din’e have lost too many pieces of the song of life to trust anything anymore.  What once was simple is now beyond understanding.

However, what interests me most is purely practical application of energy to positive ends based on a value system almost everyone professes to embrace, though few practice what they preach.  Either as nations, or as individuals.

I was leading into some thoughts of other applications of energy work, more imaginative than that of the ‘hit man’, unarguably positive on a much broader scale based on reduction of capabilities for the application of physical force.

This entry’s getting a bit long, but if there’s interest, maybe I’ll discuss it more in some later entry.

Best to you,

Jack

 

– Practical, changes through energy work, good, bad and ugly: (part one)

Jack wrote this in February 2006 when he was a member of several online metaphysics groups, including Reiki and other types of  energy healing:

Morning blogsters:

A couple of days ago in the comments section of one of the Metaphysics 101 entries it became obvious to me there’s a lot of confusion about the potential for energy work.  Partly it’s because there’s so much sweetness and light humbug associated with it among the practitioners.

The long history of persecution of energy workers in the Christian world has probably caused some over-reaction toward the other side.  A lot of Reiki Masters, for instance, have been trained to believe (and have believed, or profess to believe what they were taught) that the energies they use for healing can’t be used in ways contrary to what they might perceive as ‘positive’.

Similar beliefs are found among Silva practitioners, EFT workers, most dowser/healers, and others who wish to draw an inseparable boundary, both for themselves, and for those who know what they do, between themselves and those on the ‘other side’ of metaphysical practices (ie. black magick, et al).

It simply isn’t possible.

Many energy workers know this, though most will never say so in an open, public discussion.  But there’s a sound reason the use of metaphysical energy, energy conversion, energy projection requires a solid understanding of the disciplines involved.

The pablum approach, including any belief that energy projection/conversion can only be used for ‘good’ is a sure-fire means for neophytes to do a lot of damage, possibly to themselves, almost certainly to others.

On the other hand, there’s such a broad base of growing knowledge circulating about how to do it, I believe it’s time the entire picture (to the extent I know it) comes into view.

There’s no way anyone can control the mindset of certain groups of Pagans and Wiccans (and worse) who are out there playing around with spells and energies, using them to get revenge on ex-husbands and boyfriends.  They know enough to do it, but not nearly enough to respect it.  Kids playing with loaded firearms.

I know a man of some fame and repute for doing many positive energy tasks, healing, and much teaching, who’s also an energy ‘hit man’.  When a particularly despicable homicide happens, say, to a child, and when the authorities can’t do anything about it, he locates the perpetrator by passive methods, then simply ‘goes down and removes the life energy’ of the killer.

(It’s not me doing this, so I don’t have to figure out what opinion I have about his choice to use his capabilities this way.  Though you’d probably recognize his name, he ain’t advertising that piece of his action.)

———————————————————–

This blog entry is too long.

How about this:

Consider that last bit as the end of an entry.  Take a break.  Go outdoors a while and ponder.  When you return you’ll find another entry just below.  A shorter one that doesn’t tax the attention span of blogsters.

If you don’t believe me, just take a peek.

It’s there already for when you return.

(Continued tomorrow instead– Jeanne)

The more it stays the same

Jack wrote this in June, 2006:

I hadn’t watched Easy Rider (Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson, circa 1968) in three decades.

When I saw it again this past weekend I appreciated it again for the first time:

Nicholson: You know, this used to be a helluva good country. I can’t understand what’s gone wrong with it.

Hopper: Huh. Man, everybody got chicken, that’s what happened, man. Hey, we can’t even get into like, uh, second-rate hotel, I mean, a second-rate motel. You dig? They think we’re gonna cut their throat or something, man. They’re scared, man.

Nicholson: Oh, they’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent to ’em.

Hopper: Hey man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody needs a haircut.

Nicholson: Oh no. What you represent to them is freedom.

Hopper: What the hell’s wrong with freedom, man? That’s what it’s all about.

Nicholson: Oh yeah, that’s right, that’s what it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it – that’s two different things.

I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace.

‘Course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free ’cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are.

Oh yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ’em.

Hopper: Mmmm, well, that don’t make ’em runnin’ scared.

Nicholson: No, it makes ’em dangerous.

Three young men searching for America who found it wasn’t what they bargained for.

Jack

 

Whitey Will Pay

Jack wrote this in April, 2006:

Hi blogsters:

Hope you’re all giving yourselves plenty of challenges, making lots of decisions that lead to growth experiences.

Things have gone quiet around here, owl-wise, though the hawks still soar overhead days.  And the coyotes still howl on the mesas.

Just finished a short trip to western New Mexico on an old-new trail of the Lost Adams Diggings.  Rough trip in some ways, because it brought to mind memories of a lot of other trips into that country with men now dead.

But it was physically a reminder of how old this vehicle’s becoming.

Climbing and unclimbing mesas, digging and scraping samples from streambeds, toting them back out to work them down into concentrates for closer examination, all just become the tap on the shoulder gravity gives a man insisting he slow down.

The trip didn’t answer a lot of questions, but it created enough to cause me to know more trips in there will be required.

Ahh.  Adventure!

Meanwhile, back here in the village, the rich old man up the hill behind me evidently has an enemy.   Someone decapitated a rabbit just before Easter and left it on his porch.

Might be because he’s rich and cantankerous, or because he’s said to be miserly and difficult to collect from if a person’s only a mere workman.  Or it might be because he’s all the above, which a number of old villagers are, but also he has the distinction of being an Anglo.

The accident of birth that gives a person ancestors who spoke English and had pinkish skin is a difficult sin for the majority of New Mexicans to forgive.

The Hispanics, who hold all the power, speak the same language as the Conquistadors, Cortez and Coronado, but see themselves as having been robbed of their conquests and rendered downtrodden by white-skinned invaders from the East.

The Native Americans generally just know someone conquered them, but because we’re all born innocent of memory,  have evidently forgotten who did the conquering.

For a while I occasionally used to drive around in a borrowed truck with “WHITEY WILL PAY” bumper-stickered on the tinted glass back window.  As a whitish sort of fellow, I found my feelers a little ruffled with all the thumbs-ups and raised-fist salutes I got from Hispanic and Native American types.

I generally don’t feel I’ve done anything negative to Hispanics, nor Native Americans.  My conscience is clear.

I had a distant kinsman mountain-man who wandered into Santa Fe around 1805, and was held captive for 20-odd years by the Spaniard government (ancestors to the folks who are here today), but I don’t hold it against them.

Let bygones be bygones, I say.

Fact is, old James Purcell’s problems ain’t mine.  I was lucky enough to be allowed to find problems of my own.

His didn’t happen to me.

Same as when Onate cut the foots off all the adult males of the tribe of rebellious Acomas in 1600 something-or-other, which makes Acomas do a lot of whining and complaining today, it wasn’t me did it, and it wasn’t people alive today it happened to.

You don’t hear me complaining about not having the same rights and advantages of Native Americans, no free health care, never having to have a steady job my entire life, being born into a wealth of land I pay no taxes on.

You won’t hear me complaining I can’t open a casino.

And you won’t hear me complain because my distant pore old mountain-man kinsman, James Purcell, got thrown in the hoosegow just because he came to town.  Didn’t do nuthun but be an English speaking man with white skin.

I was born naked.  Those aren’t my troubles.

Jack