The Nadi Leaf Chronicles Chapter 4

A small...irony, is perhaps the wrong word. Yesterday at my internship school, special guests came in and we studied leaves and made leaf animals. And this morning, an Indian astrologer in Bangalore looked through a bunch of old palm leaves with writing on them, looking for one that had my name and my parents names on it.

You'd think that they could have organized it alphabetically... rather than by thumbprint. Or at least alphabetically within thumbprint.

So, for those following along at home, you may recall I already had one session, where this guy went through a bundle of leaves (it's not quite as extravagant and old-fashioned looking as giant banana leaves being slung around. I think I described it in a previous post. Here, some pictures from the internet:



Anyways, he went through the whole bundle and didn't find one that matched me, so he said he'd send off for a few more bundles and get back to me when they arrived. I had to contact him, but his current secretary is way more responsive than his old one, so we got an appointment set up quickly. Within a week, I think. Waaaay better.

Anyways, I got up early, 5:30 am, (Indian time difference means it's going to happen at awkward times) and set up my computer in the bathroom as it was the only room that wouldn't be bothering my housemate that early in the morning. He proceeded to read through the bundle, again, not finding anything close to a match. He told me he'd call back in fifteen minutes or so (which meant somewhere around 35 minutes. But hey, as long as he actually calls me back, I'm good. Though I did call them again after 30 minutes to check in on how they were doing/make sure they hadn't forgotten about me like the first time.)

He came back with yet another stack, and we did the whole process over again. Nothing. I was prepared for this outcome. He said, he's getting some more leaves around December, so he'd send me an email to make an appointment before December 25th. And if we didn't find anything by then, I was supposed to wait for a year before trying again. I will, of course, set a calendar reminder, to remind him, in a few weeks, in case he forgets to contact me.

At this point though, it does seem that the forgetting is benevolent, not an intentional slight. I'm also becoming increasingly strong in my belief that this is not cold reading. I've recorded our sessions so I can look back at them to analyze, but I'm not sure it's necessary. If this is cold reading it's the most inept and inefficient cold reading I've ever seen or heard off. If I was cold-reading, I'd do it in one session and get them out of my hair, or coming back to pay for another session. The guy doesn't seem to even be keeping track of my answers. He keeps asking if I'm in the medical field, or my parent's names start with certain letters. But not different letters, the same letters. To all intents and purposes, it really does look like he's reading from the leaves. And he doesn't really follow up on things that are kinda similar, but not right on. And he's spent quite a lot of time on me. We were going until, what, 7 something? Over an hour. So, if we ever do find a leaf that is a good match, I'm pretty confident that it will actually be because the leaf is a good match, not just him making up stuff.

Whether I actually have such a leaf, under my thumbprint, in his collection, to be found, is another matter entirely. I remain resolute in my self-protective pessimism. But I will keep looking, dear readers.

End of current installment, in "Adventures in Disappointment" By Isaac Nevas and Univers.

The Nadi Leaf Chronicles, Chapter 3

One more quick update: tomorrow morning, at 5:30am EST, I'm scheduled for my second Nadi reading, since at the first one, the guy went through the whole sheaf of leafs and didn't find me.

Am I excited? hopeful? I figured I should catch my thoughts now, as they will be unavoidably tainted after the experience.

I have low expectations. Though I am very much aware that these things are sometimes super amazingly accurate and real, I'm also aware that cold-reading is a real thing as well and perhaps more common, and this may in fact just be that, or some mixture of that and the real thing. Do I actually expect them to find it? Expect is a strong word. I'm open to the possibility, but at this point, after so many disappointments, I'm no longer jumping up and down like a puppy. I'm kind of in the stance of, "yeah, I know this may never end up happening. That's ok. I don't expect it or feel entitled to it. But I'll stay open to the possibility if the universe chooses to provide it."

I'm doing amazing things transforming my life and bringing my dreams to fruition through hard work and courageous trust and surrender to my highest self and my experience of God, which grows more rich and warm/loving day by day. I don't need a leaf to tell me what my future will be. I will make it, together with the Creator, and it doesn't matter so much what that ends up being, what is important is the process itself, that I live with dignity and integrity, moment to moment. That's what's important, that's what matters, that's the really important magic, the magic that has the potential for the greatest positive effect on my or anyone else's life, even if it is less flashy than a leaf having me and my parent's name written on it five thousand years ago.

Perhaps this is just sour grapes, but as Dan Gilbert (or Gilbert (sour) Grape, as I feel like calling him) has discovered, that synthesized happiness is just as real as the happiness we think should be real, so why complain about it?


(here's the video again, if you don't want to click the link)

Producers

Everyone is always producing something.
But sometimes all we're producing is poop.

Not so pretty

I am exhausted. This is only the first of four weeks where I am working Monday through Sunday. And already I am bone weary. More and more grey hairs. I have so little mental and energetic space to think, to reflect.

I'll be fine, but a grim, soldier's stare kind of fine. I'll be alive, generally functioning, but ragged. My brain is sluggish. It's only two more months, and I'm all done, flung out into space and the unknown to find my own way. It would be easy to just grit my teeth and dream of winter break and freedom, but I don't want freedom. I want to be an awesome teacher. I want to learn how. And I'm not going to be doing very good learning, with my brain percolating like a lazy slug through my skull. So much precious opportunity that I can't grasp. I want more time to reflect, to plan, to improve, but all I've got are little bites as I run from one thing to the next. I'll do my best while trying to maintain some semblance of balance. But I don't think it's gonna look pretty.

Furiously

I somehow managed to not post last weekend and not even realize it. I thought I already had, but I have a notification on google calendar that tells me to post every week, and it wasn't checked off, so I double checked, and lo and behold, I actually had missed it entirely. Better late than never.

I am furiously beating back the seemingly endless mass of stuff that needs doing. I'm doing this while trying my best to be kind to myself, and get periods of deep rejuvenation. I'm pumped up on self-help books, so currently I'm rocking it, but that's never a sign that I won't crash right back down. However, I'm hoping that by

a) Treating myself with kindness and doing my best to make sure my rest time is actually restful.
b) Listening to my own sense of rightness, balance, and importance

I will be making those inevitable down parts less intense, and faster to recover from.

I'm also working furiously on re-training myself not to avoid unpleasant tasks. By creating the (fairly accurate) story that all the things I want are on the other side of my comfort zone, and the challenges and failures and pain are the very fuel that will lead me to my goals, I seem to be slowly changing my behavior towards discomfort. I am, as always, using a bunch of nifty tools that I've found, to help me do this. In fact, one of the books I'm enjoying using is just called "The Tools."

The other thing I'm doing is kind of short-changing everything that's non-essential. Giving it the minimum I can bear giving it, and moving on. Since I sometimes have perfectionistic tendencies, this still doesn't result in garbage. But it does help me focus more time and energy into the more important tasks.

Since blogging, though fun, is rather low priority compared to "become awesome teacher" and "graduate" I'm afraid it might get the short shrift, especially at times like this, where I don't have a specific post trying to burst out of me like some beautiful alien spawn or parasitic wasp larvae.

So... I think I'll just leave you with that image. Much love to you, dear friends, and have a good week.

(reminder, if you are signed up for emails and can't see the video below, go to the blog website.)

Devotion

This morning during my sacred time (a Tom Brown term: time to connect with nature and God, relax, appreciate, do a little spiritual workout, and prepare for the day.) I saw something good enough I need to share it. I suppose I should also mention about a week ago during another sacred time I saw a skunk walk right in front of me. They walk funny. Kind of a hop-lope.

Anyways, there was an older woman, bright pink dress, dark blue jacket over it. She was round and small, with a short gait and a waddle to her walk that made me suspect some chronic pain and stiffness in her knees/hips. I'd seen her walking along the sidewalk before; she's a local, and friendly. But then the remarkable thing: following, about a hundred feet behind her, was a grey and white cat. Stomach saggy like female cats sometimes tget after being neutered. And it was following her like a little duckling that didn't want its mom to notice. It paused a few times to look around at things it was curious about, and see if it had been noticed, but then continued on, following the women out of sight down the sidewalk. Something about that warmed my heart. That cat must love that old woman. Cats are not the kind of animal to follow someone, certainly not for so long, with such focus. Fifteen or so minutes later, as I was finishing up, I saw the woman walking back along the sidewalk in the other direction, and the cat was still following her. It had gotten a bit closer, but then seemed to realize this and waited until the distance was back to normal.

I was just reading about bhakti, the heartfelt, all-consuming, personal connection and attachment to divinity. That cat seems like a nice illustration.

Sick

I am sick. The kind of sick that has me blowing my nose every few minutes with a headache that won't quit.

Enforced vacation. So I'm sleeping, drinking tea, listening to books on tape while I lie in bed too uncomfortable to get all the way to sleep.

I'm getting to listen to a great book on tape, called, "The Tools" by Phil Stutz and someone else. One of the tools involves working with your "shadow" in the Jungian sense, so perhaps that's where my play on words for the title comes from.

And since I am well and truly tired, and accompanied by an Athena-esk head-pain, I shall leave it at that for the night.

I hope you're feeling better physically than I am.
Moral remains high ;-)

-I Out