Tickle is the monthly newsletter from Creators Child. If you like Tickle you can join the yahoo group at http://in.groups.yahoo.com/group/CCTickle
Tickle
This is the 20 th issue of Tickle, a newsletter from Creators Child. This Tickle is a lot like a swimming pool. It starts with pieces that deal with the magnificent possibilities in everyday life and then heads off into the deep esoteric end. It's the first Tickle from 20/2, HRBR Layout. And the first Tickle for the New Year. A special welcome to the new Tickle readers. And a special thank you to the old readers and contributors. Also check out www.creatorschild.com It wears a new look. Plus it's packed with new stuff. Esp: We're going to launch, the Circle of Life a bimonthly group meeting, for all Creator's Child participants, in March. For healing students, a re-statement of direction: it's titled Devadhara Healing. Please read.
The Banana Boat Ride of Life.
On her Malaysian Holiday, Celu avec her bro, nieces, nephews went on a Banana Boat Ride. You know the one where a speedboat shaped like a banana races over the sea leaping like a bronco, while churning the stomach… Aditi who was behind her midway through the trip asked a question. And it's a question that we often ask ourselves midway through life: 'O God why did I come on this trip? 'And sometimes the answer is the same as why we take Banana boat rides, our friends are going, we'll meet our fear, we can later say we enjoyed having the frisson of fear, we'll have something to talk about later.
The Chappal & the Everyday Angel.
My dad came and stayed in our new home for 10 days. In the evenings he'd sometimes go for a walk. That's when he met the angel. He'd picked up a stone in his chappal, and in the process of kicking it out his chappal came out. Well, my dad's 75 and is not as lithe in the days when he could go head to head against R Krishnan in tennis and not embarrass himself. So putting the shoe on became a problem. That's when this woman came from behind him, said let me help you with that and helped him put his chappal on. Then walked away. {Now most of us from India know how huge the significance of that is, but for the Ticklers not born here, chappals are considered heavily unclean, few wear footwear within the home, and touching someone's feet is a huge gesture of respect reserved only for parents or revered elders}.
Don't put Christmas in a Box .
Sachin's still in that happy point before childhood ends and the posturing of adolescence begins. So when his mom attempted to put the decorations away she encountered stiff resistance. “Don't put Christmas in a Box” he said firmly in a chipko movement that prevented the tree from disappearing back into its box. And it throws up an interesting issue, can we keep the joy, the goodness of Christmas, Diwali, Sankranti going through the rest of the year? When the tree goes into the box, does the Christmas spirit too disappear?
Reincarnating .
Ok now we move to less pleasant part of the world of spirits. This poem is about a woman recovering from a series of psychic attacks. It feels like thieves have entered her head. And from the little that's left of her and the gaps between, she begins again to reconstruct a self. She is well on the way to recovery now.}
Sweety is dead.
This burnt piece
is all that's left of her.
Everyone has taken what they wanted.
There a cousin wears my smile.
Night after night an aunt
picked the locks of my life,
thinking no one watched.
To know what it feels like,
cut open your stomach,
and invite the street dogs, rats and crows.
What they too don't touch is me.
But there are compensations
For having your skull scraped clean.
Now that the walls are gone and roof's off,
I see.
Ghosts. Death. Hurt that walks behind you.
The secrets of people like worms.
I see.
I see a shadow.
Bone-faced tall as a Universe – it is I.
It is not a me. It is an I.
Using the shadow like a seamstress
And the little bone that is left of me
Shaped into a needle
I am stitching a new me together.
Not all sweet.
Meeting Buddha. Shalu's sms Verbatim:
“…Know I had been to a place called golden temple near madikere today…Oops… I could feel lovely energy… For sometime I felt that I was speaking to Buddha for a long time…ha, ha…”
The Power of the Elements.
At the heart of the Creator's Child meet was an amazing meditation where we gathered the power of the elements… and sent it coursing through circle. It was incredibly powerful… {more about it in the website}.
The Red Bindu.
As so often happens, experiences come together in groups. Here are 2 Bindu experiences that Amita and Bela had in quick succession.
To Amita, it was like a red sun disc or bindi, pulsating with power. When it rotated it became flat like a piece of paper.
Bela woke up to see this intense fiery dot that she kept seeing throughout the day. So what is it? Why is a red dot so significant a step? We prompt Bela to question it. “Nothing & All. Nothing is outside me. ” is how the Bindu describes itself. Nothing in this universe? Bela asks. “All universes,” comes the reply. The Bindu continues, “Passion. Love. Power.” {is what I am}.
The Bindu to Amita presents itself as her soul.
The answer Tarun has got separately is similar: “It is I when there are no universes. It is I when there is no I or thou.”
Put these messages together and a clearer picture emerges. The Bindu is the living point from which the entire 3 dimensional movie of life is projected. It is both nothing and everything. In its red form it is the heat of life, the passion, the power that is all universes. Its appearance is thus biiiig.
Here we bid adieu. Write in. Call. We love it. Ciao for now.
If you'd like to check out previous issues of Tickle.
Tickle 1....................Tickle 2 ...................Tickle 3...................Tickle 4
Tickle 5....................Tickle 6 .................. Tickle 7.................. Tickle 8
Tickle 9............Tickle 10.......... Tickle 11 ........... . . Tickle 12
Tickle 13...........Tickle 14......... Tickle 15 ........... . . Tickle 16
Tickle 17.......... Tickle 18 .... ... . Tickle 19
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