Spirituality
Tales in Indian Neutrality
Jessica Plancich, MFT
Since my return from my international jaunt, I’ve been asked to express what my trip was like and I’ve struggled to find the words to adequately describe what has transmuted my cells. I was gifted countless experiences that have shown me what my teachers have been trying to get through my obstinate skull for years now. So, I find myself telling tales as they naturally arise and many come while working with my clients.
My teachers have encouraged me to release anything that is not neutral or loving that may arise within me. Whether these come in the form of rogue emotions, judgments or ancient traumas, they essentially strangle life force and light until we’re puppeteered by these forces and no longer able to exercise true free will. And though I thought I had a grasp on this concept, it wasn’t until I had a colorful experience with the beggar children of India that I came to understand this wisdom.
Indian children are terribly cute, which makes their destitution evermore wrenching on the heart. They are often maimed in order to evoke more pity from potential gifters or are told to recite horrific stories of trauma and abuse- it’s difficult to tell how many of these are actually true. Nevertheless, they are almost indentured into this begging practice with a hollowness in their being, a nothingness in their eyes as they push their hands into your space, hoping that you’ll give instead of shun. Many are so accustomed to being pushed away, yelled at and ignored that you can see why their spirits have gone to hide, deep in the recesses of their chests, barely present and hardly accessible.
What does one do in the face of all of this? It was a tremendous lesson in energy and the workings of neutrality. I tried several tactics: When my travel mate made the unfortunate mistake of only having one pen (they love to ask for “school pens” from foreigners) to gift when a band of 7 quickly arrived, they persisted and mobbed her to a point of uncomfortable intrusion. Unlike adults, they have an understanding that they can push into places and spaces that most adults would never dare invade. When gracious attempts to communicate “no more…” were met with pushes of the hand and persistent squawks, I lost my cool and belted “Pas!” (meaning “Enough!”) in my most authoritative voice. Much to my chagrin, they practically laughed in my face, as I had tipped my hand…I lent them (or rather, the annoyance they were evoking within me) energy. They became even more belligerent and downright challenging. Thankfully, our bus driver shushed them away and saved us from the beguiled band of miniature beggars.
Just as we took a long breath, it appeared again, this time through the bus window. A disheveled mother carrying her barely clothed child was tapping my arm. I knew better than to give money at this point, so I pulled down my sunglasses and pretended to ignore her. This was pretty useless, however, because she could feel my agitated energy even if I was avoiding her stare. I was exuding irritation and this gave her the green light to persist, hoping perhaps I would cave just to get her to leave. I resorted to breathing and attempted to diffuse the energy that was pent up in my chest- a mixture of irritation, aggravation and deep sadness that I could not even attempt to deal with in that moment.
I looked long and hard at how I had been triggered by these situations- how each character mirrored another aspect of myself. How each was hand delivered to show me what I’m still carrying inside so that it may be liberated. The depth of grief that arose in me was immense and vacuous. There were many times that I was overcome by the magnitude of the energy and was rendered a sloppy sack of tears. Wrung out and raw, empty and defenseless, I attempted the only thing I hadn’t yet done: find neutrality.
The little boy who approached me probably didn’t see it coming, however, his heart must have led him to me, for in the end, each of these children are really agonizing to be truly seen and recognized as the children of God that they are. When he looked at me with his large, chocolate eyes, I instead held his gaze and opened my heart. I didn’t pour love into him nor did I secretly wish he would go away, I simply held the space between us. Within about a minute, he was almost mesmerized into a trancelike state, still with his hand held out in front, but completely taken by the energy that was present. I pulled myself back and allowed him to see himself in my eyes. He was transfixed and stayed long enough to receive this gift…then he silently walked away. Tears flooded my own eyes after he was gone, for I finally experienced what my teachers had been attempting to show me. I had to meet these forces with consciousness if they were to ever be liberated and returned back to source.
I have told this story to a few of my clients (and continuously keep retelling myself now that I’m back in L.A. with all kinds of things arising) in the hope that this colorful tale gives us all more courage to directly look into these energies, recognize their attempt to survive and instead meet them with breath and spaciousness so that we can be free to open our hearts to spirit, creativity and love.
On the Verge
Jessica Plancich, MFT
In recent times, much has been talked about in the coming of the “Age of Aquarius” or the “Rise of the Feminine” as our planet completes another one of its 52,000 year cycles. There’s a sense that we are being asked to embrace more feminine aspects of cooperation, collaboration and collective resource sharing if we are to continue to exist as a species.
I’ve felt shifts inside me intensify in the past few years and witnessed the same in my community. So much seems to be falling away- sometimes downright ripping apart. And though my primordial hands attempt to grasp, this has proven to be futile. The more I grip, clench and bear down, the more violent the death seems to be. A virtual tug of war with the outdated beliefs I’ve unknowingly supported and allowed to take up valuable rental space in my being. This is obviously not the way to go.
Though I cognitively understand that I can hold more sand with a cupped hand than a clinched fist, I’ve struggled with how to put this into practice. How do I simply allow for grace? In a world of doing and going, forging and pushing, how do I settle into The Way? How do I embrace these feminine aspects that I’ve judged as unproductive and passive? How can feminine ways shape the developing consciousness of humanity?
A wise mentor of mine defined grace as “God touching the earth.” One of the strengths and inherent traits of the feminine is the connection to spirit- along with intuition and energetic sensitivity. And though these aspects are a part of each of us, we don’t often connect with it outside of meditation, prayer or deep quietude. In these states, I often get insights about the importance of letting go so that I can be present to receive the creativity and inspiration that wants to be birthed through me.
The journey to live on the verge of creation has been daunting and yet one of the most liberating aspects of my life. Opening, allowing and receiving each day. This sounds great in theory, but practically speaking, it means a willingness to let go of what was…ALL of it. From persona to attachments, expectations to constructs. So much of what I do these days is allow for the deconstruction of the things I’ve paid thousands of dollars to train into my head.
It is only when these are emptied out that I can receive direct communiqués from my higher heart- the genius to come into my bottle. In these times, I’ve witnessed and been a part of miraculous healings of tremendously accelerated rates- unlike anything I’ve ever been shown or taught. I once had a graduate school professor tell me that it would take us five years to un-learn what we learned in graduate school; that theories are what we relied on when we had lost our connection with the divine. Through cultivating this connection, God gets to touch the earth, as me and through me…an emissary and steward with a missionless mission to listen each day and simply receive what wants to come through me.
On my better days, this can look like many things- silly, spontaneous, creative, eloquent, playful and wise. When cut off, it’s contrived, calculated, disjointed and judgmental. On those days, I’m simply frustrated that my high speed connection to spirit is more like a dial up modem- spotty and slow, congested and weak. And I dial up again and again until I feel that steady pulse and open up the gates to allow it forth. The in-spirit-ation that arises is beyond anything that my mind could possibly conjure and the love that pours forth is immeasurable…and it’s so juicy, so incredibly beautiful, that it keeps me going forth into these deep, mysterious waters…I hope that in some small way, these words may inspire you to do the same.
On the Wings of Hoofs and Horseshoes
By Jessica Plancich
I have spent the majority of my life around horses and rode before I could walk, as my mom was a devoted horse trainer. To be exact, I was indoctrinated in utero, which likely describes my deep and indelible connection to these magical animals. I had a very atypical childhood experience living in Los Angeles, spending the majority of my days fumbling around the stables …the scents of sawdust, earthiness of leather and the sweetness of alfalfa hay activate my cells in the most nostalgic way.
My parents were wise not to entrust me with the responsibility of horse ownership too early in life and I earned my stripes- grooming, stall cleaning and caring for many of the barn’s horses before they gifted me one of the most incredible influences of my life. “Bud” as he came to be named, was a dashing 3 year old chestnut gelding quarter horse, given to me with a giant red bow upon his neck for my 11th birthday. He was a very special animal, who was originally intended to be the horse of the breeder’s son, but when the young boy came down with a serious illness, they had to sell their chosen horse to pay for medical expenses. They were incredulous in selecting new stewards for their big guy and I remained in contact with the Nolan family for years, updating them on Bud’s progress and development.
It was easy to see why this was not an easy decision for them to make, as this horse was full of personality, energy and though massive (16.3 hands for you horse people, for everyone else, about 5.6 in the back…very big), he was a gentle giant and people everywhere would marvel at how such a little girl could ride and be safe with such a humungous creature. The secret was in the bond.
My mom is a tremendous animal whisperer and demonstrated how to convene with animals with honor, respect and love. I was taught how horses mirror our emotions and to learn from the signals they were offering as a reflection of where we stood on any given day. Bud and I became like a highly attuned machine, sensing each other’s moods, fears and needs. He would whinny at the sound of my voice and eventually, my truck- I could never get away with being at the barn without him knowing it. He was my confidant and greatest ally, I could entrust him with anything and unlike my high school peers, I knew he wouldn’t tell a soul.
My agreement with my parents was to assume complete responsibility for his care, usually at least 2 hours a day. They explained to me that if I was unable to do so, that he would be given to another, as he deserved the best of treatment. So, despite many diverging factors- school, sports, clubs and friends, I remained steadfast in my commitment to Bud amidst many of my barn friends whose interest waned in favor of drugs, alcohol and guys. This was not an easy choice in the face of financial stress, yet my parents made the selfless decision to support me and our timeless bond. My dad had a favorite saying, “I hated paying for it, but loved how it kept you out of trouble.” In the turbulent waters of adolescence, my relationship with this animal taught me about the importance of commitment, responsibility, listening deeply to the soul of another and most importantly, unconditional love.
For 17 years, Bud was my best companion and greatest ally. Little did I know that his illness and later, his transition would be his most impactful mark on my life. He was diagnosed with an incurable disease called Cushing’s that manifests in a growth on the pituitary gland and creates rapid aging and degeneration. I winced as I watched as his body fumble while his spirit remained as high and alive as ever. The veterinarian gave him approximately 6 months to live and that the veterinary standard of care, a very invasive medicine, could perhaps extend his life a bit longer. Yet upon placing him on these pills, his whole demeanor changed. No longer the vibrant, playful and animated being, I would find him with his head in the corner, with no joy de vie in his soul. Desperate for an alternative, I sought the advice of experts around the world, willing to try anything to alleviate his pain, knowing that if I had to face his end, it would be with life and energy and not at the expense of my unwillingness to face reality.
One day, my mom remembered that she received a Christmas card with an update from one of her riding students of 20 years prior, sharing that she was nursing her old pony with herbs and energy healing in his battle with Cushing’s disease. I reached out to Renate Reed and she suggested that we put him on a concoction of minerals and blue green algae and begin Reiki and energy healing. What occurred next has changed my life forever.
During one of our first sessions, I watched as Bud kicked his back legs, yawned and contorted his face in ways I’d never seen him do in all his years. I didn’t have to believe in this “energy thing” to know that he was having an intense and massive release. Renate then put her hand on both of our spines and I immediately felt a surge move up my back and through my throat, resulting in wailing and sobbing for several minutes as Bud simultaneously writhed and twisted around. This was one of the most profound moments of surrender I had ever experienced- a tremendous parallel process.
Though I was already a practicing psychotherapist, I was convinced at that moment that I needed to study energy healing and how to help others shift stagnant energy in such radical and cathartic ways. I began learning and practicing on Bud and he showed signs of progress for the next 2 ½ years, while exhibiting the same spirit and joy I’d always known. There was a day when I felt in his gaze and sense in his heart that it was time for him to transition- the very same summer that the teenage girl that also cared for him was set to begin college. She had had a rough time in high school and Bud was a massive anchor in her life. She was on the verge of moving away from horses several times and each time, their relationship centered and focused her again.
Prior to the vet’s arrival the morning of his passing, we fed him pound after pound of giant carrots…in that moment, I knew the fullness of his heart and that he had hung in there until he had safely delivered his two girls through what are often the most dangerous waters of life.
Since that time, about 5 years ago, I have devoted myself to using energetic healing in my own process and gradually over time, with others. The shifts that have taken place when in alignment with the divine and in the name of high love have been nothing short of miraculous and my direction as a helper and participant in creation have been intrinsically shifted. The treasure that Bud offered me, even in his passing are a testament of the perfection of the universe and offer me solace in times of doubt and fear. I have chosen not to reengage with horses, knowing that the fit had to be just right. That time has now come and I’m thrilled to birth the Alchemy of Equus, a therapeutic equine experience for women...an opportunity to learn from these powerful creatures and the immediate reflections they offer so that we can come to know ourselves better. Women in particular have a very magical and ancient connection with the horse world. I know the potency that equine medicine has had upon my soul and am humbled to introduce that to others, as this has been one of the greatest therapeutic experiences in my journey.
The Beauty of the Breakdown
By Jessica Plancich
Welcoming surrender for transformation
To know me is to know that I am hot for transformation, shift, change, processing and purging it out. The gruesome, the wretched and the ugly, I love it all, not because I'm a sadist (well, maybe a little) but because of the tremendous amount of growth that inevitably follows the space that was once inhabited by stale, over stayed energetic visitors. Though this penchant for all that lurks in the shadows has been with me quite awhile, I always labeled this purgative process as ugly, negative, nasty and terribly painful. With such a diabolical lineup of treacherous adjectives, it was no wonder that I felt all of the gnarly emotions (disgust, disdain, judgment, shame) that went along with it. As long as I viewed the process of surrender through this lens, my body had tangible reactions (tightening, wrenching, pressure) and my mind would play all kinds of tricks (avoidance, denial, justification or even martyrdom). The impact of this perspective not only effected my own growth process, but for those that I work with as well...preparing them for the hardship of it all or experiencing tremendous discomfort in the face of their discomfort. I thought I actually held a relatively healthy view of this process until recently, when I had an experience that gave me the most profound appreciation for surrender that I've ever known.
Deep in the recesses of my body, mind and soul came forth streams and reams of primordial energy, stored in my vessel unbeknownst to my conscious mind. It was as though each cell of my physical and energetic body was being wrung, twisted and emptied of all contents that had were no longer of service. I released for my mother, my grandmother and her grandmothers grandmothers...for the agony of children I've never known and lands I've never touched...for aspects of myself that I've been too arrogant to acknowledge or too afraid to look at. It was in these moments that my breath gave way, like a life line to the other side to who and what I am when that stuff isn't there...pure love.
And it kept pouring in like waves, the more I heaved and breathed, the more kindness, the more perfection, the more beauty came flooding in. My heart was forced to expand in those moments, my body blown apart into unexplored territories of the kind of love that knows only itself. It is from this place that I can now look upon the surrender process not only with the deepest, most humbled gratitude, but can do my part in sharing this insight with you. There is so much beauty in the breakdown, each tear an offering of your collective life experiences that you selflessly give forth so that creation can come to know itself. It's no wonder way we hold on so much, these energies have become an uncomfortably comfortable part of our lives, almost like a toxic co-dependent relationship. We are now facing a time on this planet where these aspects are being put in our faces for our higher good, to be transformed. Those who are holding on are having the most difficult of times- emotionally, financially, physically.
And so, I invite you to continue to do your part in letting go...all of it. Breathe and know that with each exhalation, the universe expands and you receive the gift of knowing your ultimate beauty.
...allow me to thank you for the work that you do, it's selfless and not so sexy, but we all benefit from every last bit of it.
p.s. here's a song that speaks to this process, Frou Frou's Let Go
Clearing it all out...
By: Jessica Plancich, MFT
We live in times where we are urged, if not mandated to continuously take inventory of our inboxes. And with so many boxes to manage, from relationships to email to what you put in your body to what you do with your life, if we're not constantly turning over the rocks ourselves, creation seems to take care of it for us. My observation, both in myself and in others, is that the more we avoid doing this work, the more intense the interventions tend to be to get our attention and wake up. "Be present" is a mantra often tossed around and though it's easy to BE in lotus position atop a mountain, how does this translate to real life? How to be present in for each moment and truly listen for right action....do I call this person back right now? Do I send this email right now? Do I eat this right now? Do I say this right now? That moment of sacred pause can make all the difference between reacting to urgency and the stress hormones related to it or being in alignment with the natural flow of things.
As I sit here on our lawn, gazing at the soft purple wisteria blossoms blowing in the breeze, with the bees buzzing about and my new puppy lazily napping beside me, I am in awe with the harmony of the plant and animal world. Simply doing what they do; without strain or attempting to be or do anything beyond what this moment calls for. The dog is definitely not worrying about what she's missing out on and the flowers aren't worried about when they'll die. They're in full bloom, right now and enjoying every minute of it. Living closer to the land in the past year has taught me a great deal about the order of the world and how much I was tuned out. Though I purported to be an in touch person, I had no idea how much my nervous system was cranked in overdrive. I have watched my whole body relax, my face soften and my soul rest. I still have a great deal to learn from the 4 legged, serpent and winged ones, the rocks and the plants- they continue to show me the way, especially during this time of new birth.
So in this new dawn, we have the opportunity to do our due diligence and take responsibility for the state of things- to clear out what is low and slow, dense and unserving. Most of us start with the physical world because it's the most instantly gratifying one, but not the most lasting. That which you can see is not real. That which is real you cannot see. Beginning within and staring straight in the face of that which is most haunting and menacing and clearing it out of your field will create more space in your life than the bag of clothes you donate to the Goodwill (I speak from personal experience). And though sorting your desk and emptying your inboxes is still a part of this process, it naturally comes when you are liberated internally. The stuck stuff will simply be out of alignment and you'll feel absolutely compelled and motivated to move things out and keep the energy circulating.
....and if you still aren't inspired to take it upon yourself, there's a strong chance that a dis-aster will move in (and for the record, that means "from the stars") as an intervention from on high to get your attention and awaken you to your magnificence.