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Roots

4/30/2014

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My maternal great-grandparents Salvatore and Cologera Natale came to America from Sicily in the early 1900s. This was only 100 years or so ago but it might as well be 3000 BC for all the details and facts there are -- or aren't. Even stories are sparse. There are reasons for this: They never became fluent English speakers, they lived in an age that was circumspect, and Salvatore may have been a man of few words anyway (his oldest son, my grandpa Peter, sure was). Stories about our families can quickly go underground. Like tree roots, they're hidden, buried, and difficult to dig up.
PictureFarms outside its town walls
Salvatore was a farmer from Santa Caterina Villarmosa, a farming village atop a mountain in a range running through the middle of Sicily. It was lush and verdant when I visited a few weeks ago. Alpine, with sheep grazing up high. Almond orchards, olive groves and grains still grow outside its town walls. Pink and orange brick homes glow in the light and palm trees line its piazza. The Spaniards tacked on the Villarmosa or 'Pretty' to the name of this medieval town for a reason. But what really stood out was the quiet. It's quiet even by British Library standards.

Yes, we can see what churches and streets looked like hundreds of years ago, but to get a sense of what a town sounded like way-back-when? Even though there are plenty of cars and a few pizzerias and bars there (I recommend 'The Ethnic Pub'), the low-level background hums and electromagnetic vibrations were mostly absent. I didn't hear planes overhead or motorways whirring in the distance; there were no trucks or lorries rumbling through. While this was a relief, I also felt a little restless and isolated up there. Was the silence unbearable to Salvatore once he heard about America and its streets lined with gold? Was that turn-of-the-century Siren call impossible to resist even for a man well into adulthood and marriage? I sensed he didn't make the decision to leave his birthplace lightly; that there was a strong energy and power behind his decision.
TBC

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Need To Know - Not!

4/7/2014

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Almost six years into Human Design, and needs, desires, habits are falling by-the-by; away they go one-by-one in an air of nonchalance I never could've foreseen. Foods I used to crave I just don't need, activities that used to be part of my daily routine hold zero interest and even the habits of a career, built up over 20-plus years, are morphing in this reboot.

Something else, too, has lost its allure and that's the Rave Bodygraph. The very thing that captured my fascination with HD in the first place, the graph I absolutely had to learn about the moment I saw it. Graphs of friends, family, and of the rich and famous collected, a mini-library built up. Data analyzed and pored over during the first year of classes and then into professional training: All the channels and gates, the lines, and the constant consultation of the Rave I-Ching to remember names, numbers, symbols. A lot of mental firepower went into memorizing, studying, understanding.

Now, most of it, I. Just. Don't. Need. At least right now. And 'right now' has lasted months. I don't need to know the transit field. I don't need to know what gate Uranus has stationed. I don't need to know the why or the how, or what Gate 21 in a defined heart center means exactly. In general -- in life overall -- the 'need to know' has lessened. I don't want to know. In fact, when I find myself 'needing to know' about a situation or the future (which is still frequent) -- it's a sign I'm deep into not-self and clinging to ego -- that non-physical construct that seems so real, but so not. The ego's a mirage, a false identity the mind has been so busy building up one incorrect decision after another.


The incessant need to know more and more info about HD mechanics and the graph potentially straps us onto another loop of concepts about who we think we are and what our life should be. Walking around with channels, streams, gates, numbers, and phrases buzzing around my head became a distraction, too; another mental escape route from life and emotional truths. All of this is completely opposite to the essence of HD, of how to navigate, of transformation.

Of course, the irony is that to start the HD journey, the graph is probably essential. But the Bodygraph, that beautifully streamlined graphic design, can become a crutch if we're always looking for reasons, explanations, answers. It can turn into a source of labels, beliefs and judgments. Five years on, I realize how all that actually gets in the way of our ability to flow with life, with its ups-and-downs, uncertainties, messes, mysteries, surprises and shocks.
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