Farting sounds and proving yourself.

The saboteur of curiosity is proving ourselves.  When we try to prove it we take ourselves so darn seriously that we don't have fun with what we do.

Here's an example of how proving it can get in our way. Meet Brett, a store manager.  He's used to being in charge.  Can you hear his keys jangling?

He's in his first healing class where the students learn how to: be senior to their healing guide, communicate with the guide and offer aura healings.

"Let's begin," I say.

Before Brett gets out of his chair I notice he goes into auto pilot. He pops out of his body and revs up his 3rd chakra, the place of personal power. As he approaches his classmate, he asks him to move his chair twice before he arrives at his side.  During the healing, Brett tells the healee everything he thinks he needs to change. And I don't notice Brett's healing guide actually doing anything!

This is when I say to my students, "OK, time to make fart sounds. And the one with the best fart sound is the most awesome healer in the room."  Laughter flits across the room like a balloon just popped. Potty humor really takes the air out of these serious moments.  I have a 3 year old, he's taught me a lot.

Oh, the responsibility! To be the perfect healer, store manager, partner! The part of him who takes charge of everyone at the store, takes over his learning space and there is no room left to explore what he is doing. He already knew exactly what was going to happen for himself and the healee. He thought he had to manage the process.

The best healings can come from first time healers because they allow, with a capitol A. They allow the healing to happen.  They don't think about it.  They don't know what to expect and that is OK.  When I was a student, teachers would jokingly fight over who could receive first from the newest students!

But Brett is not allowing himself to not know. Or to be a beginner. He just has to do the healing and he has to do it right.  I don't think he pauses for a breath until he sits down at the end.  And then he telepathically gloats that his healing is the best.

Well how-dy. The first day of healing class is always amusing.

It isn't my place to tell him he's gotten in his own way the whole time.  I ask, "Did anyone notice they were trying really hard?  Did you feel you had to do a good job?"  It is up to him to notice whether these questions pertain to him.  On the first day of class, all he can say is, "No, that was easy."

He is validated by being the one doing all the work.  This is the way he likes it. It is how he makes sure he receives attention. These are his pictures- energized pictures, solidified beliefs held in his space- and this is what he is learning about.

Over the next three months Brett thinks he is learning about becoming a great healer, until he notices he is really learning how to take the charge off of having to be perfect.  Over time he begins to know how to validate himself. He learns he doesn't have to be perfect in another's eyes in order to receive a spirit to spirit hello or love.

Healing is about listening and responding. And the first person we can to listen to is ourselves. We don't have to override our self in order to be perfect. We don't have to become what we think another person needs.

When this happens, we step on our own toes.  The instant we feel tugged into becoming super-over-achiever, deflate that high-fa-lutan thought by making a fart sound. Or at least imagine a really loud fart sound. You won't be able to take yourself so seriously. And you can start over while allowing yourself to be a part of the process.

I'm really curious!

Are we willing to admit to our self that we do not know something? It's an awkward feeling, not knowing.

When we learn to do a psychic reading and we find ourselves solo with our first readee,  we leave one state of mind, "Uh, I Don't Know... why Are you asking me?" and step into, "Yeah, I have no clue but I'm really curious to see what's going on, once I close my eyes."

Let me close my eyes and see. 

It is no small feat, though simple, to see and listen.  My students have been reminding me for 13 years, "It's sooo subtle but sooo powerful."  Taking this adventure into The Land of I Don't Know is what allows us to see and then know what is going on.  But it's an odd sensation at first.

In order to see, the first thing we have to do is cultivate curiosity. One of my friends would say this whenever she was in a jam, "I'm REALLY curious?!" And I love to imagine my psychic Nancy Drew Hat.

Curiosity is a psychic's best friend.  (Otherwise we end up doing the shopping list in our heads and gather no pertinent information for our self nor our readee.)  Once we have a hold of curiosity this is what happens:

1. We intend to see.
2. We see.
3. We talk about what we see.
4. We know what the heck we are seeing.

There can be a lot of waiting involved.

We close our eyes, we focus our attention on the question at hand and we wait. We wait for pictures, moving images, flashes of insight.  We sit in stillness with what we see. We are waiting for the depth of what we are looking at to unfold like a flower opening in the morning. This allows us to make sense of it. Then the reading takes off.  It gets easier. The pipe line to our own visionary experience expands. We ride these series of pictures like a wave, white knuckled, but then, we start to have fun.

Sometimes the only way to know is to talk about what we are seeing. The action of speaking puts us on top of the wave. We don't know where the vision is going to take us, but we enjoy the ride.

This is true for our life as well.  Speak your truth and see where your wave takes you.