As the parent of a newborn baby (ain’t he cute?), my sleep these days is pretty much toast. Seven weeks in, I’ve accepted that I’m not going to sleep for a period of more than two hours at a time for the foreseeable future.

But I’m not sleep deprived; I’m getting about seven hours of sleep a night, sometimes more.

Still, I’m not waking up refreshed at all.

That’s because I’m actually suffering from sleep fragmentation, in which multiple awakenings throughout the night limit the amount of restorative sleep I get. Deep sleep and long bouts of REM are on the decline, and more of my night consists of light sleep.

This distinction is important as it puts me in the same camp as millions of other insomniacs who do not feel rested when waking up in the morning, despite having lain in bed for eight hours or more. The most common causes for insomnia – besides having a baby in the house – include diabetes and health conditions with chronic pain.

And more recently, financial anxiety.

Undiagnosed sleep conditions like sleep apnea and restless leg syndrome are also big sleep zappers because they cause hundreds of awakenings a night that are so short they aren’t remembered.

This is a good night with an infant. Sleep measured with my Zeo device.

This descent into the territories of insomnia has made me sensitive to the attitudes I hear in the media and around town everyday that seem to make light of the importance of sleep.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

Ah yes and my favorite: “Real men don’t need sleep.”

The masochismo is intense, and culturally enforced. I used to work at an office where co-workers would brag about how little sleep they got the night before, as a badge of honor of how busy they were. (They were shitty employees too).

Sleeplessness is more than an irritation. It’s actually been declared a public health crisis. Apparently for every twenty people who think they can get by on five hours of sleep, only one of them is correct and the other 19 are chronically sleep deprived.

Let’s be absolutely clear: our culture does not care if we sleep.

It makes me really angry. And because I’m presenting suffering from constant sleep fragmentation, my brain is less able to process positive emotions and more likely to make me fly off the handle.

Screw it, here’s my rant:

Society actually profits from our sleeplessness, because when we’re tired, we eat more, work more, buy more, and watch more media.

When our base needs aren’t being met and our hormonal systems are out of whack, we are more likely to fill this void with consumer products, drugs and distractions.

In my opinion, this is not a conspiracy, and although the effect appears more sinister than mere benign neglect, it’s probably more about short-sighted returns on human capital.

Because if businesses were really interested in productivity, (Workers with fatigue cost employers more than 10o billion dollars compared with workers without fatigue), we’d have sleep rooms in every business park.

If our culture really looked out for our health, teenagers would be allowed to sleep in. Aviation officials would be allowed to take naps. Doctors would have less grueling internships, resulting in less life-threatening errors.

And new dads would be less grumpy, because there would be shorter lines at the cafe.

I am not exaggerating: sleeping in is a revolutionary act.

So let’s act in solidarity and take back our world, one nap at a time.

We’ll start the revolution here. Comment below and share your most inappropriate, ahem, revolutionary napping act.

Success in lucid dreaming requires the ability to navigate a realm where gravity is not guaranteed.  And where comfortable chats in a café can be interrupted by sudden feelings of spinning, drifting, or falling down an infinite chasm. During the REM dreaming state, as well as during hypnagogia, these sensations ebb and flow thanks to activation in the inner ear as well as the supercharged visual processing of REM.

That’s why working out the inner ear is the key to mastering the weirder aspects of lucid dreaming.

Phasic REM and Vestibular Land Mines

Lucid dreaming tends to occur during the active form of REM sleep known as phasic REM, which includes greater brain activity as well as more eye movements than tonic REM. 

Lucid dreams remembered from phasic REM often include awareness of vestibular (inner ear) hallucinations and intense bodily sensations as well.

It’s a trip.

How do you develop confidence during these weird experiences? I have already discussed how playing video games influence lucid dreaming, which combines saturation of an activity with often confusing visual stimuli: perhaps the perfect workshop for developing proprioception.

But we can also take a hint by looking at professional athletes, who reportedly have spontaneous lucid dreams that can improve motor skills and focus. 

Furthermore, Hindu yogis and Sufi mystics develop lucid dreaming as a side effect of their bodily training.

These bodily practices all have this in common: the development of balance.

Pick up a Balancing Act

Incorporating a body practice that develops balance and focus is key. If you have lucid roadblocks involving confusion or getting overwhelmed by dizzying sensations, bodywork can help with developing proprioception and field independence.

You don’t have to become a master yogi though. Just find some activity that is attractive to you and in line with your interests. Some enjoy martial arts, especially the energetic art of Tai Chi.

There’s also rock climbing, bouldering and sailing. Fly-fishing is another example—this is lucid dreaming expert Scott Sparrow’s preferred body meditation.

And don’t forget the Wii.

Inexpensive habits include walking the rail of abandoned train tracks at your lunch hour or following along with a yoga video online.

Even a daily walking meditation develops bodily awareness. Simply take a walk and attend only to your breath and your body as you navigate the landscape. When thoughts come up, acknowledge them, and let them go.

Immerse yourself in the lucid landscape

Me in the Mojave Desert, 2002: showing off a rare Rosewood Springs point. I had so many lucid dreams during that archaeological survey in the high desert of CA, I had trouble finding time to write them down.

Personally, I am an avid hiker, stream-walker, and rock scrambler.

Recently, I took a hike in which I walked a fallen tree over a rushing stream. That night, I had a challenging dream that took place on a steel girder high above the ground.  I found myself balancing just as I had on the tree trunk in waking life. As I slipped and almost fell, I noticed I could die and that thought led to lucidity.

Rather than escaping the scene or trying to fly, I stuck with the situational physics of the dream and found a solution that led me to safety.  

I also enjoy walking terrain to find historic and prehistoric archaeological sites. The practice is intuitive, leading me to prehistoric hunter’s camps, mound sites, and rock clusters where women once pounded acorns and cornmeal while telling stories.

The practice is mirrored in my dreams, where I often discover beautiful ruins, golden treasures, and flint knives glowing in streambeds. The discoveries in the dreams inevitably lead to lucidity.

The beauty of developing a body practice for your lucid life is that you can simply redirect new energy to the things you already love to do. The practice also keeps you grounded and prevents the flighty spinning out that can sometimes accompany an intense new focus on dreaming.

So what’s your balancing act?

—————————————

This article is adapted from my new digital kit the Lucid Immersion Blueprint, a how-to-guide for really encouraging lucid dreaming.

This is not the same old tired stuff about WILDS and DILDS you’ve heard before. 

Rather, it’s the latest research in lucid dreaming combined with the ancient wisdom of lucid dreaming lore: the best of the old and the new.

Find out more about the Lucid Immersion Blueprint here.

We like to think that we are unpredictable, but the mobile generation is pulling back the curtain on our individual behaviors, thoughts, and feelings. It began with apps for tracking how many calories we’ve consumed, or how many miles we’ve run. But now self-tracking is spreading into the formerly murky domain of consciousness and holistic health. What is measured, improves. That’s the mantra for the quantified self.  Now we can measure how effective our mantras are too.

What these simple programs do is provide a platform for micro-journaling and easy-to-read graphic analysis so you can see your larger patterns over time. You can track how your habits (good ones and bad ones) are actually affecting your life with quick glances at colorful bar graphs and charts.

And then you make better choices.

How a Luddite got into Self Tracking

I’m a pretty qualitative guy, and have long preferred the squishy and ephemeral side of self-improvement. I still write in long hand for my dream journal, and I have a working typewriter for writing letters to old friends. I actually keep my iPhone wrapped in a handkerchief, no joke. Sometimes I use boyscout knots too. So if I can grok this and successfully discover new insights about my inner life, so can you.

One extra serving of caffeine reduces my deep sleep by more than 30 minutes. Based on 39 nights of data.

I got into self tracking with my Zeo, a smart alarm clock that measures sleep health.  I began using Zeo to track my sleep 6 months ago. Since then,  I’ve overturned some incorrect assumptions about how much sleep I need to feel good, and also how my daily habits affect things like my anxiety levels and my dreams.

Amongst other tidbits, I’ve figured out that my 6pm habit of knocking back the tiny sample cup of coffee (I sometimes  go back for seconds) at Trader Joe’s destroys the amount of deep sleep I get that night.

So here’s a list of the most promising quantified self apps, products and resources that relate to consciousness, spirituality and holistic health. Some are free, others cost a few bucks. There’s no affiliate links in this post.

Simply Being

This guided meditation app costs less than a dollar. It’s a one of the original relaxation apps from Meditation Oasis, with options for voice, music, or nature sounds. Yoga Magazine gave it a thumbs up. Meditation Oasis has many more apps to choose from too. (iPhone and iPad)

Insight Timer

This app works in the moment (couldn’t resist) as a timer for daily meditations, but doubles as a log. The settings include some relaxing music to meditate to, as well as simple metrics for analyzing your meditation patterns over weeks and months. Costs $2. (iPhone, iPad and Android)

Equanimity

Another meditation app. This one costs $5, but has garnished many positive reviews for its elegant interface. Includes a journal and integrates with iPod if you want to listen to your own music and use the app only for its timer feature.  (iPhone and iPod, but there’s a free flash-based web version too).

RelaxingApps

If you’re into soothing voice affirmations, Andrew Johnson has a series of apps for relaxation, getting to sleep, building confidence, etc. Seriously, I’m only including this in the review because he’s got an app for helping you get over your addiction to the Internet. That takes meta-balls. $3  (iPhone)

Mercury App

This hot-off-the-presses app makes it easy to track your emotions over time. Truly brilliant, as we tend to only remember the feelings that are analogous to how we’re feeling now (ah, sweet state-specific memory). It’s not mercurial at all, but dead simple: choose your scale, make daily entries, and graph the results. You can also set up separate projects to track your feelings for, so you can get a quantified look at how you feel about big decisions like moving to a new city, taking a new job, or hanging out with a new romantic partner.  Free. (web-based, with email capabilities tho)

Moodscope

Another emotion-tracking app, Moodscope is fairly established. This app recommends the buddy system, a social sharing piece that capitalizes on the Hawthorne effect, a classic psychological gambit that predicts that we improve our results when we know we are being supported. That’s the model behind Weight Watchers and Alcoholics Anonymous btw. Free. (web-based).

Livifi

Tracks healthful behaviors that have scientific evidence for improving your quality of life. Main categories are mind, body and relationships. Interesting behaviors include gratitude, eating mindfully, play, meditation and practicing kindness. Free. (iPhone, iPad, and iPod)

GravityEight

This web-based app (for now) is truly holistic. You start with a quick quiz to measure your well-being in several life domains, including health, relationships, financial solvency, and spirituality. In 10 minutes you have a snapshot of your life, quantified. My reaction was: ouch, my work is cut out for me.  Luckily Gravity-eight provides a dashboard for keeping up with other self-trackers, including Zeo, FitBit, and NikePlus, as well as an active and original blog for staying inspired. Free. (web)

TallyZoo

Not finding an app that tracks what you want – like chakra openings or elf sightings? The beauty of TallyZoo is its adaptability. If you can quantify it, you can track it. $2 (iPhone only)

If you want to find more self improvement apps, check out the quantified self. I barely scratched the surface here. The thought-leader on all things trackable, this community-building organization is riding high after putting on a successful conference in the San Francisco bay area.

Are you using self-tracking apps for spirituality, consciousness and holistic health?  I’d love to hear about your experiences. I’ll reply to your comments on my iPhone after I figure out how to free it from the constrictor knot in my pocket hanky.

Cover image: Beating hearts of the Buddhas by Trey Ratcliff (cc)

The ancient Chinese tradition of Feng shui has perfected this art, but the roots for finding your center and aligning it with the landscape are common to many prehistoric societies, including the ancestors of Europeans.

By aligning our home with the elements, we make it sacred. And it feels really good, no matter your worldview, because it awakens the bodily intelligence.

So says Paul Devereux, archaeologist, consciousness researcher and author of many, many books, including his just published Sacred Geography.

Devereux’s body of work encompasses consciousness, culture and archaeology: pretty much my favorite intersection. Last weekend I attended a weekend seminar by Devereux at the Rhine Institute in North Carolina. I came away with 12 pages of notes, but more than that, I now have an action plan for grounding my home with the landscape.

But before I get into his practical tips, let’s get grounded.

The Embodied Cosmology

All sacred geometry begins as a mirror projected from the embodied mind

We’re wired for certain relationships to our environment due to innate structural aesthetics of the mind.

When these structures aren’t mirrored where we live and work, the result is stress and bodily anxiety, adding to the much lamented separation from nature that has led our world to its present fragile state.

We can do something about this besides recycling our garbage and buying $14 lightbulbs.

The process starts by recognizing when we are out of balance, something that happens to me every single day.  I mean, it’s a big world, and it feels like I’m living on the edge of it.

Knowing about my infinite smallness in the scheme of things doesn’t really help.

To remedy this, Devereux intones the wisdom of Buckaroo Bonzai: “Wherever you go, there you are.”

Perceptually, the center of the world is real: it is the body, and the awareness which seemingly emanates from the space between the eyes.

This perceptual reality is an embodied cosmology, and as such, it creates tension in the body when it runs afoul of our scientific paradigm of a near infinite universe.

As it turns out, I’m not tiny: I’m in the thick of it.

The Embodied Landscape

To ease the tension, we can project this embodied worldview into the environment. We are rewarded with opportunities to connect and relax when we do so. This is what we’re designed for; it’s our cognitive heritage. It’s a neurognostic reality.

For example, from my perspective on the ground, the sun actually rises from the eastern horizon.  I saw it set behind the Acme grocery store last night too on my way to get some microwavable pretzels.

That’s reality. That’s where we stand.

Well, that’s where I stand anyways.

So it’s not particularly surprising that we can’t find our center and often feel lost and confused. Our culture distances and denies our perception and objectifies a shared reality that has no center. As philosopher Ken Wilber has often warned, “don’t confuse the map for the territory.”

To which Devereux added this last weekend, “You’re not in a maze—you’re in a labyrinth. You can’t get lost.”

It bears repeating: you can’t get lost.

Finding ground isn’t about rejecting science. We don’t have to go live in caves to reconnect with nature, or forget everything that has been discovered beyond the senses with the help of technology.

Rather, we can reconnect with the embodied cosmology. This is what making something sacred is all about: projecting our own sacred center onto the environment we share with everyone else.

To start, we can do this by mapping it onto our living spaces. It all flows from here; the center is within.

A simple prism can turn any wall into an earth calendar. Image by madmack (cc)

3 ways to make your home more sacred:

Set up a ritual hearth. In the old days, all homes had hearths that were the center of the home. Hearth = heart. It’s a focus point for the most public room, and it showcases our connection to the community, kin and landscape. In our culture, the TV often takes this role unconsciously.

Dethrone the TV and set up a simple shelf in the center of the home, and decorate it with your favorite objects, the ones that are steeped in memory and tradition.

Mark the four directions. All cultures, including the indigenous cultures that Europeans derive from, make note of the four directions and imbue them with symbolism. You can place small plaques on the wall, or perhaps have different wallpaper for a certain direction. This aligns the home with the geomagnetic field that surrounds our planet, and courses through our every cell.

Connect with Cyclical Time. Time is not just linear but has a cyclical nature too. We can honor that physically, creating powerful bodily associations that go beyond intellectual understanding.

For example, the sun makes an arc throughout the year that can be mapped anywhere. In the Northern hemisphere, where I live, June 21 marks the farthest North that the sun travels, and December 21 is the farthest South.

Hang a small prism, and mark the created spot on a wall from a window that gets direct light, preferably at the beginning or the end of the day. But you don’t have to use the solstices. Just as easily, mark the spot on the wall on any day that is important to you, such as a birthday or a significant holiday. You can watch the band retreat and approach as the year passes, revealing the cyclical nature of time.

If you’re interested in exploring more ways to reconnect with the ancient structures of the mind as they relate to landscape and spirituality, check out Paul Devereux’s works, in particular his new book Sacred Geography.

Devereux also has republished his book on lucid dreaming that he co-authored with Charlene Devereux – I’ll be reviewing that soon! This work of grounding and finding the center is actually essential to the work of lucid dreaming too…. but that’s another story.

By the way, the first image is a real home in Whales, built by Simon Dale. (CC)

Can lucid dreaming quicken physical healing? Can you use your dreams to scan for illness in the body? And what are the best ways to apply the skill of self-awareness in dreams for facing your fears and revitalizing your spirit?

These are the questions we’ll be addressing next Wednesday, March 16, during a free teleseminar with guest Robert Waggoner, author of Lucid Dreaming: Gateway to the inner self.  I’ll be joining dreamworker Amy Brucker to co-host the discussion, as part of a special event for The Dream Tribe.

My own lucid healings

The topic of healing in lucid dreams has a powerful pull for me. My own lucid dreams began as nightmares where I learned to literally stand my ground and find my voice. Later, as an adult, I went through another period of intense lucid dreams that resulted in recovering lost vitality after I faced some ancient sorrows. Lucid dreaming has also allowed me to say goodbye to loved ones and find real closure.

Physical healing through lucid energy

But psychological healing or healing “spirit loss” is only aspect of the conversation. Robert Waggoner has amassed a fabulous array of accounts from people who have applied their lucid dreams to assist in physical healing. We’ll also discuss the possibility of lucid dreaming as a foundation for seeking out unknown illness. Some of these stories can be found in his book Lucid Dreaming, but others are never-before-told accounts that will soon be published in the Spring edition of the Lucid Dream Exchange, which Waggoner co-edits with Lucy Gillis.

Beyond the Placebo Effect

These topics are cutting edge applications for lucid dreaming, especially as we come to grips with the realization that self-healing is so much more than a “placebo effect” but may actually be the secret behind shamanic healing and the miraculous remissions of cancer and other “intractable” diseases, as documented by Larry Dossey, MD.

Indeed, lucid dreaming embodies the role of focused will, spontaneous mental imagery, and the application of spirituality and prayer in healing — all of which are currently hot topics in medical, psychiatric, nursing and hospice communities.

So how to we harness our own lucid healing? What are the best approaches and possible pitfalls? We’ll discuss this too.

I hope you can join me for this fun and revitalizing conversation next Wednesday at 8pm EDT (that’s Midnight GMT). If the timing is all wrong, don’t worry, we’re recording the call and you can listen to it at your convenience.

Click here for the link to sign up for the teleseminar on Wednesday, March 16th.

Image by Hawkexpress

A friend recently wrote in an email; “I’m coming to realize that this transformational path I’m on isn’t exactly productive. I don’t know what it is but productive it’s not.” Her comments, coupled with my own experiences of times when I am not accomplishing as much as I would like, caused me to reflect on the relationship between outer productivity and the inner work of self-growth and transformation.

Living in a society that values productivity as highly as ours does, it can be disconcerting to find ourselves blocked. This non-productivity may manifest in different ways. You might just not be inspired or motivated to do much. Nothing interests you; a feeling of boredom pervades your experience. Or, you might lack energy to do anything; you feel tired a lot and just want to rest.

If we do try to accomplish things during these times, making our lists and checking them off, we might find that our actions seem to lead to dead ends. We do not get any feedback from the steps we take. No doors or windows open in front of us.

Image by OldTasty

In terms of what we expect to be able to get done in a day, we may feel very unproductive. These barren and uncreative times can be hard on us; our sense of self-worth and self-esteem might take a beating when we aren’t producing as much as we are used to, or as much as we think others expect of us. If we are trying to move forward and do not yet see the fruits of our labor, frustration or even depression can set in.

Yet when we are going through deep change, the kind of change where we are letting go of old aspects of ourselves or belief systems that no longer work, outer productivity may be counter-productive.

I know that there are times when I feel exhausted and uninterested in doing much, and it is generally a time when some internal shift is occurring. Similarly, friends have suggested that in their times of transformation they find they have to let go of wanting to accomplish much in the outer world.

The Natural Cycles of Productivity

It’s important to remember at these times that much of transformation happens “under the surface.” We are not consciously aware of the real work that is taking place, or we are aware of it indirectly, perhaps through our daytime and nighttime dreams, our lack of energy, or the subtle ways we begin to feel different.

Of course, this inner work of transformation is easy to discount. Most of us don’t get paid for doing inner work, after all! There are no Nobel prizes for it, no accolades, nothing to put on the resume. Recognition and salaries come for outer work.

Yet that inner work has an affect on our outer work. It may be indirect, and it will probably be difficult to convince others that fallowness can have a positive impact, but in allowing ourselves the time and space for the inner work to take place, our outer work will benefit. After all, what we do in the outer world emerges from the state of our inner world.

Is it Inner Work versus Productivity?

So, are outer productivity and the inner work of transformation mutually exclusive? Probably not, but how we go about our endeavors will make all the difference. If we are judging and struggling against our inertia, it is less likely that our activity will be helpful to our transformative process. When we can make what we do be in service to our inner being, we may find that they reinforce each other.

Let’s be honest, in times of less output and inspiration there’s also the possibility that we’re just lazy or need to rest and recover from a period of particularly intense outer work. Still, if you find that you are struggling to accomplish things against a tide of inactivity, it might be a time to stop. Do some artwork or writing, move your body, pay attention to your dreams, and see if through these methods you can catch a glimpse of shifts happening internally.

When we know that what seems like stagnation is actually producing something, we can stop fighting it by trying to be outwardly productive and more easily relax into it, trusting that a time of new accomplishment is just around the corner.

About the author:

Julie Stiles holds an MA in Consciousness Studies from John F. Kennedy University. She has a background in education and technology, and currently works as a writer helping professionals articulate and shape their ideas for publication. She is looking for a publisher interested in her manuscript on the process of transformation of consciousness. She can be reached at jlstiles24 at gmail dot com.

Image by Hamed Saber

Listening to Carrie Fisher’s encapsulated biography, “Wishful Drinking” on audiobook recently, I thought about how the Baby Boomers, and their Greatest Generation parents, had no choices when it came to depression, mental illness, homosexuality, or pain and grief.

Oh, I take that back – they could choose to keep quiet or get electroshock therapy.

Now, we find ourselves in a time where many, in the West at least, are presented with a lot more choices. We craved opportunities for growth, and they have been provided.  Problem is, sometimes there are too many from which to choose, mucking up our ability to know where exactly to begin.

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

That wedge of iceberg is only a slice of what keeps you healthy

Me? I got sick somewhere around 23. Well, it wasn’t “sick” in the traditional sense. Or maybe it was. All I knew was that it started with a sore throat, one that lasted. And lasted. It became an all day, every day occurrence of phlegm sitting deep around my Adam’s apple, with me attempting to clear it out.

Not that big of a deal, I initially thought. I had quit smoking several months before, and I thought my body was clearing itself out. I had also just become a full-fledged vegan after being vegetarian for a couple of years, and just knew from all my vegan propaganda reading that my system was just experiencing cleansing run-off, Herxheimer’s reaction, or whatever you would like to call it. This would all be over soon, and I’d be a fantastically healthy, gorgeous, well-adjusted person once I was, you know, detoxified.

Yep. Some serious expectation I had going on there.

It took me 5 long years of chronic fatigue/fibromyalgia/candida symptoms to realize being vegan wasn’t going to help me, and neither was just food or for that matter, electroshock therapy. I’m sure I would have tried it somewhere in there had it been readily available, maybe sandwiched in-between purchasing the $600 air filter that would remove all impurities from my immediate surroundings and the zapping device meant to kill all the bad little buggies supposedly wrecking havoc on my system.

I also tried taking about every supplement on the market, colonics and enemas galor, NAET allergy elimination, oxygen therapy and oh…the list goes on.

I’m not trying to imply that any of these health systems are bunk; in fact, I have no doubt that some, if not all, helped me in some way. But I was missing the key component to true health: spirituality. I don’t generally put spirituality above the other important aspects of health, such as the physical and the emotional, but in my case, I do.

Because I was looking everywhere but there.

The Missing Piece

To me, spirituality meant Christianity. Or Judaism. Or even Buddhism, Taoism. Some sort of -anity or -ism. I had been raised Catholic, spent eight years in schools that had “Religion” as one of their core classes, attended Sunday morning rituals that taught me that Christ and the Holy Spirit were good and sex and Madonna were evil.  My youth had been spent as the consummate “good girl,” undoubtedly due to the repercussions of wrath and fiery hell that awaited me otherwise. No, I was done with “spirituality,” “religion,” or whatever you wanted to call it.

Something is missing in our approach to wellness. Image by alicepopkorn.

Yet it was hard to ignore the fact that every single book I read during my Holistic Health education program said a spiritual practice was necessary for true health. I’d sigh, and try to come up with how I was spiritual, dammit.  After all, I was vegan, connected to animals and the Earth, working in social justice and handing over money most of the time when people asked, AND living by the word of do unto others (as much as possible).

And sure, these play into spirituality. But they ain’t the whole enchilada by far.  I wasn’t living, but rather staying in the mindset of the restricted physical–when my diet was perfect, so would be my health. I was dedicated to the idea of having strength through yoga and dance, getting and staying clean through detoxes and no-sugar diets and…well, no, that was pretty much it.

OK, I knew my emotions were all-out-of-whack, but that was also because of my diet, of course. They would settle down too.

But the more I attached to diet and exercise as the answer, the worse I got. I actually began to experience disordered eating and body hatred in a way I had never felt before, all due to this idea of perfection. The Perfect vegan diet. The Perfect Raw diet.  Perfect Atkins. Perfect yoga. Perfect meditation.

Perfect-anxiety-breakdown is more like it.

Only when I began to slowly let the idea of spirituality be something else, something simpler than “religions that kill in order to impart their messages,” or “just another way to oppress the hell out of women,” did things begin to turn around. I had been stuck in the doing, which didn’t allow for any receiving.

In a way, I had traded the restrictions of Catholicism for another religion – “perfect” eating. Our society needles, prods, and desperately presses for hardness – on others, on ourselves. I fell deep into the American way of finding something to subscribe to instead of sitting in the questions and wonder.

That hint of a spiritual sense did grow into something larger, and yes, even into an “organized” religion of sorts. But I refuse to tell most people what it is; thankfully, it is one that can be practiced on its own and does not press for evangelical conversion tactics.

But the basics are the sprouting seeds of every spiritual or religious practice:

• we are all connected – in fact, everything that we see, feel, hear, sense, and don’t sense, is connected;
• treat others the way you want to be treated;
• understand that there are karmic considerations to all decisions made, whether in this life, the next, or for those who only believe in one life, where your soul ends up after your body is done;
• and share love and goodness as much as possible.

Towards a Holistic Health

My health was then allowed not only to turn around, but suddenly, there was the possibility of it beginning to thrive. More, in fact, than it ever had in my life. This new-found spiritual place somewhere deep inside of this ole’ body gave me a stable ground from which to push ahead in my career, my body acceptance, and my love life–all places I had struggled with for longer then I care to count.

This is not to say everything was magically OK, that I never struggle with these areas at this point, but the occasional struggle has a different flavor to it now. It has the flavor of something outside of me, that it is not mine. The greatest gift you can give to your health is the knowledge that those struggles aren’t yours – they are simply life’s actions and lessons that are getting you closer and closer to well, you.

And then you can kick those electroshock therapy sessions to the curb.

About the Author:

Christine Garvin, MA, is a certified Nutrition Educator and holds a MA in Holistic Health Education. She is the founder/editor of Living Holistically…with a sense of humor, and co-editor of Brave New Traveler. When she is not out traveling the world, she is busy writing, doing yoga, and performing hip-hop.  Right now, the road is her home, which thankfully gives her a lot to write about.

Hi Ryan, Here is a quote I read from your bio: “Principally, I am interested in pursuing a more radical materialism for both the sciences and the arts.” Would you say more about what you mean by this? I’ve studied material religion & theology, but I”m not sure if it’s anything like this.

I have to admit that “radical materialism” does sound like goobledy goop. The ideas behind it are too critical to be ill-defined, though, because this is the way science and the wisdom traditions of the world are beginning to merge.

Image credit: Synapse by Gasboyen

Radical Materialism – An Interdisciplinary Approach

So, radical materialism to me is a call towards good science, which means investigating not only what fits our current paradigm (or model of reality) but also the frayed edges of our knowledge, especially the anomalies that call into question our assumptions about how the world works.

Radical materialism relies on traditional methods of data recovery (third-person methods such as brain chemistry) as well as first person methods (personal experiences and phenomenology) and finally the science of relatedness: these are second-person methods that reveal shared observations and experiences (such as extraordinary co-arising cultural events or “group mind”).

Essentially, radical materialism combats the “scientism” of today by giving voice to experience, process, and observable phenomena. The assumption behind this term is that materialism has been infected by a false dualism that prevents access to the conscious events that actually are the doorway to our observations in the first place. In other words, the cognition of experience (also known as consciousness if you really don’t want to get funding) is off-limits from traditional science.

A second assumption here is that the observations we often call “supernatural” will turn out to have material correlates that have to do with our human sensing apparati. But in order to get there, we as a culture are going to have to relax our defenses about what is and isn’t “physically possible.”

Sleep Paralysis Pushes the Envelope Of What’s Real

An example is the subject of sleep paralysis, which is the terrifying sleep experience of feeling like being held down by an oppressive force — sometimes accompanied by a full-blown vision of alien Others. Medical doctors realized in the 1980s that sleep paralysis is a biological condition, governed by muscle paralysis in REM sleep that over-steps its bounds into waking, consensual reality. Until then, the thousands of stories about this condition (not to mention the rich cross-cultural literature) were tossed aside as “quaint fairytales.”

But of course this biological explanation does not reduce the chilling visions to random mechanical farts; rather, the experiences are psychologically real, and may even represent an entryway into shared (or archetypal) spaces. This is what I said about sleep paralysis a year ago:

These meetings have provided countless dreamers with deeper understandings of the psycho-spiritual realms that may be open to them. From my perspective, this isn’t evidence of the “supernatural” but an indication that we still need a more radical materialism to account for what is natural.

Integral Science Becoming Mainstream

I hope this gives some insight into what I mean by radical materialism. I am sharing what I learned from the work of Ken Wilber, B. Allan Wallace, David Hufford, and other philosophers of science who are mapping out the meeting grounds between knowledge and wisdom.

The good news is that this perspective is becoming more mainstream every day. For example, check out this recent Science Daily post about a research team composed of philosophers and cognitive scientists who are investigating consciousness with multiple methods. Professor Paul Coates from the University of Hertfordshire explains:

“When we see a sunset or hear a symphony our sense organs, brains and bodies are moved in ways that are well understood by the physical and biological sciences. But during such experiences we also enjoy distinctive forms of conscious awareness. Yet this undeniable fact about our conscious lives is stubbornly resistant to scientific understanding. How is it even possible for purely physical brain activity to produce conscious experience? How do the qualities that manifest themselves in experience relate to the very different properties that are referred to in scientific descriptions of the physical world?”

Now that’s what I’m talking about! So what do you think about this trend? Can it invigorate our fractured knowledge base? Or do you think an “integral science” is doomed to the sidelines of history?

Neither a believer nor a materialist skeptic himself, Tsakiris walks a fine line as he interviews his guests about their research. More than anything, Tsakiris seems concerned that the research in question follows good scientific methods, even if (and especially when) the findings challenge the accepted paradigm of Western knowledge.

Lately, Trakiris has been on a tear about the so-called “psychic detectives.” Highly recommended listening, especially since shows like Ghost Hunters have made the paranormal momentarily stylish (but not exactly credible) again.

And while I”m at it, check out Public Parapsychology if you are interested in following, and possibly participating in, peer-reviewed parapsychology research.

“We”ve just experienced a profound shift in our consciousness.”

Oprah’s sentiment, perhaps emboldened by her recent study with Eckhart Tolle, reflects an ancient philosophical issue: can we change the status quo by the power of consciousness alone? How does our perspective create (or limit) our possibilities? And does radical change come from a new ideal that is untouched by the material world, or is it hammered from the raw matter of our physical, mental, and cultural limitations?

That’s what I started thinking about anyways as I saw Obama take the stage in Grant Park last night.

I share Oprah’s hope, and the world’s enthusiasm, for this new change in world leadership, but I am reminded of eco-philosopher Derrick Jensen’s statement that:

“Psychologically and socially, it [a shift in consciousness] is really important, but it doesn’t matter: you can still have a huge transformation of the heart, but if you still require the importation of resources, what are you going to do about it?”

The big picture, after all, is that modern civilization is unsustainable, and is enforceable only through violence. My anthropologist training cannot make me forget that never has there been a state level society that hasn’t operated through violence, oppression, and the destruction of landscape for unsustainable human practices.

I know, what a downer. In my mind, a shift of consciousness is not sufficient, but it sure is a nice change of pace.

Here’s Jensen discussing the big picture of our modern predicament, new world leader or not.

The transfer of “king energy” to Obama is still a tremendous event from a socio-historical perspective. And from a depth psychology level, I hope he continues to use the archetype to encourage Kingliness (compassion, service, fairness, and especially: order) in each of our lives, because that is the mark of a good leader.

Here is a selection that brings the idea of “King energy” back to earth, from Robert Moore & Douglas Gillette’s book King, Warrior, Magician, Lover:

“The ordering function of the King energy…shows up not only in ancient maps, in sand paintings of the desert Indians, in the icons of Buddhist art, and in the rose windows of Christian churches, but also just as persistently in the dreams and paintings of modern people undergoing modern psychoanalysis. Jung, noticing this, borrowed the name for such representations from Tibetan Buddhism and called these pictures of the organizing Center “mandalas.” He noticed that when mandalas appeared in his analysands” dreams and visions, they were always healing and life-giving.

What this function of the King energy does, through a mortal king, is embody for the people of the realm this ordering principle of the Divine World. The human king does this by codifying laws. He makes laws, or more accurately, he receives them from the King energy itself and passes them on to his nation.”

So, my hope is that Obama’s ability to channel the King energy, which is embodied in the chant, “Yes we can,” will spill over to the meta-issues which hound us as species today: environmental destruction, loss of habitat, loss of cultural diversity, peak oil, peak water, over-population, and the constant (and decidedly unpopular to discuss) threat of plague and its main catalysts, biological warfare and our over-reliance in antibiotics.

Don’t get me wrong, until the day that we can live sustainably on this earth, I’ll take the tax breaks.