Upside Down

This is not me. Yet.

This is not me. Yet.

I’ve never done this before, but I want to dedicate this post to my dear friend Tuaca, who I love, and she knows it.

I went to my first aerial dance class yesterday.  I swung around and climbed and went upside down on a big circus rope and hanging fabric like those super pretty people who fly around in Cirque de Soleil, doing super pretty and amazing things.  In my case the only pretty amazing thing is the fact that I can’t lift my arms today. Muscles I forgot I had are still vibrating, my neck aches and my feet and hands are pink with rope-burn.

Still, I swung and played and giggled with pigtails and utter school-girl glee. My mind is racing to visions of thrilling and graceful theatrics, hanging 50 feet in the air from a tree on an ocean cliff.  My nightly push-up and sit-up sessions have new purpose and I’m pouting to have to wait two weeks till the next class.

Honeymoon-phase enthusiasm is always finite, but right now I’m eleven-years-old again and remembering the lost art of infinite possibility.  I’m making room for passion to hang out in the same room with the budget and but-but-but’s and better ideas.

I think I feel all airy and sweeping and la-la right now because this infinite possibility point is feeling like the punctuation on one big, long, magical weekend.  The whole series of events that even got me swinging upside down was a perfect snowball of synchronicities.  I was talking with girlfriends on Thursday night about my love and aspirations for aerial acrobatics, bemoaning the lack of a class within 75 miles. Next morning I pick up a hitchiker on the way in to town. We get to chatting, she mentions a new aerial dance class coming to Monterey that she’s taking starting Monday. There are one or two spots left.  It meets the next three Mondays (skipping the one Monday I’ll be out of town.) We swap emails, and the rest is history.  When I’m a very, very famous star of Cirque de Soleil, you can say you read this post back when…

Over the weekend I was in a workshop at Esalen, offered to me free at the last-minute, about intuition and the power to create our worlds.  The instructor was a celebrity psychic who loathes being called a psychic and is fond of observing synchronicity as the inevitable validation of well-used intuition.  We gave each other readings, practiced mediumship and telepathy with little instruction beyond “go.”

In her groups she talks a lot, regaling us with long, unapologetic diatribes of her neuroses and successes.  She declares her adoration or disdain for us at regular intervals and upholds her Esalen reputation as a famous wine and sugar pusher.  But when it comes time for us to dive in and try our hand at reading the future or healing a stranger, she channels a drill sargeant. Not speaking is not an option. Should your stream of prophetic visions and healing energy slow to a trickle or (heaven forbid) hit a roadblock, it invites a quick and public suggestion to go try out the yoga workshop.

A few years ago, I inhabited a pretty-much permanent emotional fragility living at Esalen, busy gazing at all my deep, dark psychological woundings. This workshop and her seemingly incompassionate style would have shattered me into a thousand million little pieces then.  With a little thicker skin now, I found the gifts layered and deep (if bouyed by her pull-aside comment during a break about my incredible intuitive prowess.)

One of the most valuable take-aways for me was to hear that after 30 years of being a well-known and extremely successful intuitive and healer, she still feels like she’s making it up.  She never feels comfortable and in control of what she’s saying or doing in a reading – just comfortable in her trust of the process.  She reminds and reminds and reminds us that we just have to GO.  The train has to leave the station. You have to jump in the river in order to be carried.  “Define your target, follow your attention and report” is her only guidance, and it’s all we needed.

I love inhabiting the paradox that life is a river carrying us along to our destinies but we can tell the river where to go or crawl to shore when we choose.  I love feeling like I am tapping into the truth and connectedness of the universe when I’m just sharing whatever pops up in my consciousness.  I love believing that my being at the aerial dance class yesterday was a result of the perfect mix between happenstance and intention.

I’m suddenly thinking of my grandmother, who is probably rolling over in her grave right now as her 35-year-old, unmarried grandaughter has run off to California to swing from a trapeze and study telepathy.  I hope she knows that for me this life is just another expression of love, like for her it was making us eat third or fourth helpings of dinner.  I’m following a river that my faith and spirit and intuition tells me existed before and way beyond me, but I’m choosing and creating and directing it too.  I hope she sees how alike we are in this.  (And I know she does.)

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8 Comments

Filed under life, lisa goettel, writing

8 responses to “Upside Down

  1. This is so fun and funny and fabulous! I hear the REAL YOU in this. I am also jealous and wonder if I’m too old to try aerial dance, especially when I was so sore after Desiree’s yoga class I could barely hit keyboard strokes for 3 days without pain. I also want to do Tuaca’s class. I think we both have a lot of inate intuition that we’ve probably suppressed. TEACH ME! I know the key is intention. So BALANCE in my life is my new intention. I can help flood victims AND enrich my own life by making time for family, friends and fun!
    XXOO, Mom

  2. Beautiful Lisa, and beautiful Mom!

    The body as a tool, moving in space is so beautiful. Flying, riding a motorcycle, yoga and dance, allowing the body to experience, to move in space as the soul flows the river.

    Huge hug and lots of love,
    Doron

  3. Good to hear your voice here again, my friend. Since the day I met you I have never doubted the amazing and adventurous spirit that was within you. As your friend I say – enjoy the flying! Maybe I can try that someday! As a paramedic I say – for the love of pete. DON”T FALL!

  4. Keely

    Lisa! I can’t believe that the fact that you’re on your way to being the newest star of the Cirque de Soleil wasn’t the first thing you told me about when we saw each other! I can’t wait to hear more about it, but your words here are (as always) lovely, filled with vivid images and inspirations.

    You can’t fall off a mountain (or a trapeze),
    Keely

  5. Tears for my girl, once again. Yes, we are all swinging upside down in this crazy vida, guided by luck and love, and it’s glorious. Grandma would be proud.

    Somehow I am also hearing a song in my head, one you may recall from a silly time in our lives: Upside down, yeah, you’re turning me, inside out, and round about…remember?

    love you, dear heart.

  6. How Exciting!!!!! wow! *Big Smile*

  7. p

    your spirit is so delicious, ms. lisa. so big and lovely. right now i would really like to sit next to you and soak some in.

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