The Spirituality of Forrest Gump

"Forrest Gump":  Been away for awhile, but had the opportunity to watch this film again, so thought I'd repost.

This was published in our Unity Newsletter, the Quest, so there are references to Unity and a minister who served and spoke there. There is also a reference to something I re-posted on 4/16/13 here.

"Spring Cleaning and What I Found There"

Ever since I hosted a storytelling session and assigned, "Spring Cleaning and What I Found There", which was great fun for most all of us, (though we didn't ask our men) I have begun to look up to the women who are experts at it. So, first thing, I checked out an old "Prevention" magazine (2/22/05, "Cleaning Shortcuts", excerpted from Linda Cobb's Complete Cleaning Guide), listing the must-haves for natural cleaning. I had no idea where to begin, but by absent minded-ly, leaving the kitchen faucet on and pouring water all over the floor and down the basement on my costume stuff, (shielded by an upside-down wading pool) my work was cut out for me. Clean out all the stuff, including the solidified food particles under the sink, which has been ignored far too long. I surfed the internet, but Chemistry was not my forte. So, when I mixed baking soda with vinegar, I got an unexpected surprise. It fizzed all over the place, like more than a soda pop, after it's shaken, then, opened.  I also should have also taken seriously the picture in the magazine, of the plastic gloves with the rest of the stuff. More natural cleaners like Mom once used, aren't exempt from stinging and roughening your hands.

I checked the internet today to find the materials our moms used. I started thinking about what my former cleaning agents were doing to me, not just my husband. So, I mixed vinegar, water, and Borax and scrubbed the floors. Bill usually complained about how my cleaning agents irritated his nose, throat, and lungs when he got back to the house, but this time, I asked him to check. He said he could smell something, but it didn't feel toxic. I've got a new cause!

I'm really trying to get this housewifely domestic thing down.  Like today, I actually did some spring cleaning in the foyer, swept behind the file drawers, vacuumed the corner cobwebs (for as long as it would run), organized a little,dusted the window and the blinds, vacuumed the throw rugs, and swept the floors. I said, "Oh, what a good girl am I!" Then, I cooked dinner, caught up on Bates Motel on A&E with my husband, and finished up the dishes. Now, I'm ready to start the meeting minutes, which isn't out of domestic life either, since domestics are in clubs.        Trouble is, I looked at my office where I write these up, which I organized awhile back, realized I needed to, yet again, which made me realize the foyer accomplishment is only a Pyrrhic victory. This will go on in a circle of eternal purging.  One comment I received was that It was not a Pyrrhic victory, but a Sisyphean one, to which I replied: I could call the blog what you suggest, "The Circle of Eternal Purging" or perhaps, "The Bungalow Be-dazzler", a good word.  I looked up Sisyphean, and it was about a king condemned to roll a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll down again. In that case, I could call my blog, "The Bungalow Boulder-roller".

I've been fairly consistent with the combo of baking soda sprayed with

 vinegar and frothing over, for the basins.

    But today, the bungalow bedazzler had to look up where to go from there, on her own blog.

So, In 2 cups of water, I mixed 2 tablespoons of lemon juice and a tablespoon of baking soda, (nice fizz), 1/2 teaspoon of liquid dish soap,(couldn't find the Dawn, but Ivory dish soap works fine), and a teaspoon of Borax. You're supposed to shake it, but I mixed it, and then, used a microfiber cloth to clean the cupboards, and especially the counters. Afterwards, I even demolished some spots on the kitchen floor nearby. Asked Bill (who was chatting amicably, but also remarking that I was into an activity that was obviously not my passion) to breathe in. No fumes, no complaints...

Ta Da! 

 Here's another tip I've learned on friend face, and I'm in the midst of trying it out.:

TUB AND SHOWER CLEANER
"Take a spray bottle and fill it halfway with white vinegar. Heat in the microwave. Fill the rest of the way with blue Dawn. Put lid on and shake to mix well. Spray on your tub and shower walls. Allow to sit for a few minutes and rinse away. It will totally melt all the gunk, slime, sludge and other stuff that builds up including a bathtub ring."

I'll be sure to let you know how it works, or not....

           Okay, having tried Kaboom!, spraying and running, spraying and running...to avoid the fumes, I would say that the Dawn treatment worked equally well, if not even better, and was much more tolerable to my system.

Connecting with the Spirit World

I’d had the opportunity to see Raymond Moody when he was in town, sponsored by a different church of a Spiritualist nature. The Spiritualists were upset when Moody said, no, you couldn’t prove after death communications. I felt they missed the point, that the only one, he maintained, you could prove it to was yourself.

Likewise, at one time, I’d heard he’d appeared before skeptics, who also said he couldn’t prove life after death. It frustrated them when he agreed that it was true; he couldn’t prove it.

His purpose, at the meeting I had attended was to introduce his book, Reunions, which was published in 1987. (See www.lifeafterlife.com/books_reunions.html‎ )

It started when a book fell on his head in a small Georgia town bookstore. It was called Crystal Gazing, by Northcote Thomas, which was basically about scrying, with the use of a mirror.

Moody talked about Greek Oracles of the dead called psychomanteums. Here, ancients often consulted spirits, prophets, and visionaries.

       But Moody believed you could have your own first-hand encounters, that there is a midway zone.Death is just a transition to another dimension of awareness. 

                He called in some mentally stable people he knew, and some had good results. So, even Moody decided he wanted to meet up with his maternal grandmother. 
                When visiting the psychomanteum, he gazed into the mirror there for an hour, but he finally gave up and concluded he just wasn’t one to have those experiences.   
       But he met up some time later with his paternal grandmother, one with whom he’d had some issues and one he needed to see. Her voice had an electric quality about it. She looked younger than he even remembered her. She wouldn’t let him touch her, but there was some healing that occurred regarding their relationship.

      The author talked about Abraham Lincoln’s double image in the mirror, which Mary Todd interpreted for him. The clear image was his first term. The ghostly one the second one, he would not survive the second. And as we know, it turned out she was right.

There were Biblical visions, and Solomon obtained wisdom in a dream. There were more recent visions wherein General Patton had frequent evening visits with his father.

He mentioned Asklepios, the physician, and dream incubation sanctuaries, under Epidaurus, where there were beds called klinis. There, patients had visions and dreams for cures. Hypnogagia was a twilight state, wherein healings could take place.

In the psychomanteum, there was a bronze cauldron where Greek people dwelt. People spent time in sleeping rooms first, then, went to the apparition chamber.

Greek Psychomanteums were called oracles of the dead. Moody took a trip with his wife to visit the Oracle of Ephyra. By leaving the modern psychomanteum in Athens, they went off the beaten path and explored where the priests stayed, the psychopomps, corridors, dormitories and apparition rooms of this underground oracle.

 He called to mind other uses of smooth surfaces, such as Samuel in the Hebrew Bible using a silver cup, Aladdin’s mirror, St. Augustine, and Faust.

In the modern psychomanteum, Moody erected had a low light, heightened mirror and curtains. He called it the theater of the mind, which he constructed out of his old mill house. He expected only one of ten would have an experience.  In many cases, a lot of people got grief resolution.

He removed all sense of time by providing no clocks, the era was Victorian, and they had walks in nature. They were asked to bring photos of those they wanted to see. Sometimes, about 25% saw someone other than whom they were prepared to see, often were forbidden to touch them, as they gazed into the looking glass. About 25% didn’t see until much later, but within 24 hours. 

Moody then gives advice on creating your own psychomanteum.  He brought to mind that the Oracle at Ephyra was a polished cauldron filled with water in a dimly lit room and gave examples of historical correspondences using smooth surfaces. 

If a natural setting is not possible, create it artificially, with tapes and cds of nature sounds. Cover clocks and eliminate watches, have antiques and old photos on hand. Promote art and music. After gentle exercise, get into a comfortable position with a dim candle. An electric candle will do. Have the mirror slightly higher.The image in the mirror may cloud up.  Sometimes, the apparition will actually seem to be next to you. A lot of times, there is grief resolution.

Another author, Dr. Jane Greer (www.drjanegreer.com), promoted a slightly different way of making connections with those who have departed. She called it “cathecting”. Cathexis is a way to connect to the spirit world.

Her quest started with a deep connection to her mother, who looked like her twin, and they were very close. When it was clear her mother would soon pass, she pressed her for messages from beyond. There were, in fact, messages through electronic failures. Her mother’s visual signal was a yellow-black Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly.

The reader is advised to pay attention to signs, objects, and music, especially when these signals appear in twos or threes in succession. We’re also advised to journal these things when they happen, lest we forget. Pay attention to anniversaries, birthdays, dreams, animals, funny stories about them, jewelry belonging to them. The author also mentions mirrors, as Raymond Moody did, producing spontaneous experiences.The departed will contact you in a certain sign language developed between the two of you.

To be proactive, you can write them or ask something of them out loud. Doing a dialogue with them in writing is helpful. Sometimes, you can get resolution in relationships this way.  Perhaps, you can even ask for a positive change in the relationship, which can sometimes make a turnaround in the next life, whatever you imagine that to be.

Encouraged by these readings, my own experiences have been with my dad as a Monarch Butterfly and sometimes, as No Nonsense socks or stockings. (He was described as a “no nonsense” kind of guy.) Very recently, I spoke to my cousin on the phone, long distance, about a silly poem he wrote out and recited, and how that was communicated to me when my daughter was having trouble with chemistry in a course she was taking in Ann Arbor. I won’t be going into details here, but I “got it” that he was going to be on hand to help. He was very good at chemistry, and my daughter ended up passing the test, after all.

 My cousin was taken aback, as she hadn’t heard the poem in fifty years, from her own dad, his brother. Could it have been a communication to her, from her dad, as well?

I also received an old antique typewriter, free, one day. Dad had told me he could not afford a typewriter for me during his life, and being young and spoiled, I was visibly disappointed. After I took the old typewriter down to the basement, placing it on the metal table on wheels that came with it, near my dad’s military portrait, I climbed back upstairs. After returning to my office of PC computer and laptop, I suddenly realized, it was the anniversary of his death.

I also ordered a cross with a Unity symbol across it.  When it arrived, the place I ordered it from turned out to contain his first name:  Albin’s Jewelers. Since he was clergy, he probably wanted to make sure I had a cross of some sort.

My mother communicates with the music, “Fur Elise”, and “Somewhere Out There” from an American Tale.  The former was played at her funeral. The latter was a song I received after coming back from the event, when I returned to work in a summer preschool setting. I just knew it was from her, and burst into tears. That song has popped up at times when she wanted to be particularly helpful.

My mom was a registered nurse. So her jewelry box with her Swedish Hospital pin and her Swedish hospital cup have appeared when I needed direction on health matters.

My brother, Kendall, who we lost in the Vietnam TET offensive has made his presence known. He appeared to my mother and kissed her goodbye at the time he was reported missing in action, so she knew he was gone. A girl who’d had a crush on him, but didn’t know he had died, noticed a whirlwind deliver the list of those lost, in a newspaper article, which landed on the ground next to her feet.

Much later on, he appeared to someone close to me, who was staying in a motel room at the time. The next day, the motel personnel called about the T.V., because they wondered if he’d caused the tube to blow. (Remember how these communications can cause electrical problems?)  However, he had never turned the T.V. on, and yet, it was inoperable. 

My in laws have communicated to me, as well. At Christmas time, Doc (his pet name) comes to me when “I’ll be Home for Christmas” plays at strategic times, even when his son “happens” to sing it in the shower. At times, Doc’s glasses show up, and his cane falls in the closet.

My mother in law seems to be affirming her presence when I see OkeDoke Popcorn at strategic times. It was something she said quite frequently. Her old D&W credit card also shows up. 

Their most recent picture keeps popping up in my computer. So, I know, then, they’re at work, helping us.

My mentor at college, a religion/science professor has informed me that he’ll be around when I hear the rare song, “I Gotta be Me”, which he considered a song about Spiritual Freedom, where the “blinders” fall off, and you consider yourself part of the whole. The first one who passed, was his wife, of cancer. And regarding her, I’ve stumbled upon the poem he read at her funeral on her behalf. She’s also had other more personal ways of communicating with me, basically telling me to “hang in there”.

What was troubling, however, regarding college is, my old roommate and I, who were close friends, had a painful parting of the ways. I had wanted to find her, and when I did, I discovered she had died several years ago, of leukemia. I took the issue to a wise woman at church, and she counseled me about it, saying I would see her in the “next life” and learn from now, not to make the same mistake again, about not making up in time. 

I knew this lady was a pray-er, and often prayed for others. So, I took seriously, the idea of writing to my friend, in dialogue fashion. “We” ended up recalling many fun and funny times, and how we would do better the next time. Many could say this is just the workings of the subconscious mind, but the result was, I felt resolution from doing this, and healing…

…even though I can’t “prove it”.

Copy of Anita Harms Tellabration 11/8/13

Puzzles

                                          Possible Puzzle.

                                          Possible, too.

Impossible, but someday...

My daughter got me a puzzle to assure herself I wouldn't slip into Alzheimers.  It was a jigsaw puzzle of a beautiful Kinkade house that actually resembled one with which I was fascinated, right in the neighborhood. Since I tell stories, either original, paraphrased, but nevertheless memorized, and since I'm the storytelling group's secretary and have to take notes, remembering a month back, and report, and also, write and do a lot of research and self editing, I never got around to it. I thought my brain was getting quite a workout as it was.

But all that has changed, since we got Naia, my older gran-daughter, puzzles, and worked with her on them.
The second puzzle (last photo) was three years her senior, so after awhile, she gave up, and we did too.

I was too challenged by it not to return to it. When Naia saw me working at it again, she returned to her age-appropriate puzzle and succeeded, twice. We exclaimed, "Yay! We did it!" and "Give me Five!"

Yet I was, very quietly, rebuilding my own big picture...until it was done.

Now, I've got to find a proper table for the jigsaw puzzle.