Why I’ve Not Been Writing Here

It just seems too much of a muchness to keep up with blog, FB, e-mails, and my writing too. I’ve recently come out with a new book of poetry, More About the Moon, of which I’m very proud! it’s gotten great reviews.  For more info go to my website, www.madhurijewel.com and click on Books.

I’m also hanging out my shingle to help other people work on their books – as i keep being sent them, and it’s much better to do the corrections before publication than after! So I call it Pre-views. Then, I’m open to doing book reviews as well.

I’ve also been in a loooong health crisis – periodontal – doesn’t sound too bad but it was! Wonderful to be better and reveling in the summer in England – all the flowers! Absurdly sunny for months now…

Just got back from Festival of Sound and Silence in Corfu, where i did an open mic event and enjoyed hanging out with Nisarg and other friends. But it’s toooo sunny there – and mozzie-ful –

I’ve taken so many pics these last months, and many end up on FB.  Stories I write end up, often, on Oshonewsonline instead of being posted here.

See you on FB! If you want a session, I’ve now corrected the e-mail address which somehow ended up being wrong – since god knows how long. I’ve avoided coming here to the blog because of the simple irritation of digging out the pw – inexcusable, I know – but…now I’ve done it.

Joyfully in England

Sooo happy to be living in England now, helping prepare for a new Healing Centre in the North, in Hebden Bridge.

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Sessions and Groups

Types of Sessions                                                                                                                          madhurijewel@yahoo.com

Intuitive Reading

This is incorporated in any session, or can be a session on its own. I hold the person’s hands, tune in to her. Can also be done by holding feet, or scanning chakras, or all of above. I read photographs, Kirlian photographs, x-rays. I speak, of course, about what I see and feel and hear.

Object Reading

I read any object you like, to see its history, nature, and that of those who have handled it. Can be useful to see if an object should be saved or discarded/given away.

Jewelry reading

We go through your collection of stones and jewelry. I tune in to your energy and then read each piece to see how it suits you; how it interacts with you. (Each person is individual and each stone is also individual, so the effect is always unique.) I can see if the piece needs cleaning; and then instruct you in this. For pieces with stubborn old vibes in them – say, from an ancient grumpy Auntie – I can put them through a thorough cleaning process for you. This takes several days, but the piece will be cleansed and ready for your own habitation of it henceforth!

This type of session acts as a reading for you – much emerges!

Tarot Reading

I hover my hand over the cards you have chosen for specific issues. The card shows me pictures, feelings, knowings. This can also be done via phone or Skype; either you choose cards on your end and I pick the same ones and read them on my end (Zen Tarot deck) or I choose cards for you.

Human Design

I am not an accredited reader. I have been studying for about 14 years. I’m always in awe of how much I don’t know. Human Design has eased my own life so much that I cannot resist bringing it in; I like to use this uncannily accurate rocket-science astrology as an adjunct to almost any type of group or session.

Couple’s Charts

Human design is fantastic for looking at the troubles and joys couples get into. It can help bring much-needed distance from a tangle, and promotes healthy individuality and understanding. By recognizing how someone is different from you, you can give them space to be themselves – and being oneself is the essence of peace! This is also great for vetting prospective suitors!

Generator Session

A particular way of working with Generators (A type in HD.) This session is gentle and yet right to the point: how does one make decisions from one’s true nature? You will experience this decision-making for yourself.

Couple’s HD plus Chakras

As well as looking at the charts, we’ll go into the chakras of the pair. I read them and see how they are interacting and what their struggles are. The chakras are constantly registering all that goes on with a person; as well as containing in their depths the essence of the person at the level of a particular chakra. The chart shows your blueprint; the chakra shows that plus what you have done with it in your life.

Too, there are basic principles of relating that then show themselves as relevant: How to treat oneself and the other with clear respect? Blame, projection, dumping…we’ll look at these and see how they can be understood and thus disidentified with. New ways can be found to take energy back to oneself (where it becomes, eventually, blissful) instead of bothering the other with it!

Poetry Session

I hold your hands and tune in. A poem for you comes to me, I write it down on a piece of paper; read it aloud to you, roll it up, tie it with a ribbon, and give it to you. Takes about fifteen or twenty minutes all together.

Pendulum Chakra Balancing

Invented by my talented sister Sarita. This session takes about 20-30 minutes and is a method of self-healing. You lie down, I dangle pendulum above each chakra in turn. According to how the pendulum behaves we proceed further…you’ll learn what your chakras really want from you.

 

The Corral

This session helps cut through the pain in difficult relatings with people living or gone. You will find what your Higher Self sees about these gnarls…and much sorting and healing occurs.*

The Garden

You are guided, in light, conscious trance, into your own inner garden, where you meet a Wise One.

Past Life Journey

You are guided into whatever scenes appear from your unconscious…great for dealing with current issues. Can be profoundly healing.

Healing Journey

Here again you will be healing yourself through your discoveries in your inner world. We take an issue and use it as a way to go exploring the inner landscape. The healing resources, on whatever level, are already there – they just need to be uncovered. *

Dream Session

Bring your dream. With painting and dialoguing we can experientially decode it with ease. It will thus return to you the energy it had been keeping as symbol.

Chakra Dialogue

We use colored sheets of paper to assist in entering the chakras, dialoguing with chakras. Each has its own experience, its own opinion. Good for looking at current issues.

Seven Bodies Journey

A trance journey to explore the seven levels of the aura, corresponding to the chakras. Helpful as an overview during any healing process. **

Guardian of the Threshold

Painting and dialoguing – to discover and dissolve what is in the way between you and yourself.*

Cherokee Chakra Loop Fire Breathing

A wild, wonderful, extremely powerful method for coming totally alive. (From Leela)

Hara Burn

Intense spiritual-warrior meditation: an issue is transformed by being sent into the hara, the home of emptiness/birth/death/the eternal in one’s deep belly. (From Vibhaven.)

Voice Dialogue

Visiting the various inner voices involved in any issue and letting them have their say; also visiting the Buddha Nature.  Resolves, opens out, detonates issues par excellence. (From Hal and Sidra Stone.)

 

Channeling

I go into deep relaxation, and open the door. You ask questions and the Guides respond.

 

Channeling Healing

An advanced session, for the very ready and receptive. I go in trance, you ask very central questions, Guides do healing on you.

Color Light Therapy

I used to be a practitioner. Now I only do the treatments I enjoy doing. Intuitive reading often occurs during the time the lamp is on the point.

Nine Divine Points (on the toes.)

Nine Divine Points for Couples

Assorted ear points (for many different symptoms.)

Ear points for weight loss (this requires the ability/opportunity on the client’s part to process the released emotional material.)

Leg Detox

Icebreaker

Function Circle Diagnosis in Pink

Back Treatment

Eye Treatment

And more….

* Also from Mahasatvaa Sarita    ** Invented by Sarita and myself separately

Groups

Women’s Group

Many methods, including painting, dialoguing, drama, dance – are included for uncovering women’s strengths, receptivities, expansions, wildnesses, mysteries

Heart Chakra Group

Being with the Fourth Chakra: unconditional love, space, acceptance. Delicious and spacious! These techniques came out of the Mystery school, Poona.

Cherokee Chakra Loop Fire Breathing

A wild way to come fully alive. You will meet yourself here – and breathe right on through.

Tantra

Sacred relating.

Meditation

We try out many techniques for coming into one’s stillness, emptiness, center…with joy along the way!

Dance

Stretching, role-dancing, reaching further and higher – dance your way to god(dess.)

Jewelry

Playing with stones and intuitive reading; learning to clean stones.

 

Channeling for a group

I go into deep relaxation. You ask questions – each one of you. The Guides respond.

 

Past lives

Dreamwork

 

Guardian of the Threshold

Dissolving what’s in the way of your process – in a group situation.

 

Poetry

We make it easy for the Muse to visit. A way of playing with the music of heart and words.

 

Giving talks

I love this! Name your subject, and if I like it I’ll speak on it. If not, I’ll bring the subject!

Poetry reading

Koan work

Koan work cuts through the personality to come closer to the original Face. An intensive.

Audio Poems

neckpoemblog

undersnow

californian

littersblog

kcpoemblog

Knees and Nightshades

Nightshades are a plant genus which includes tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, eggplants, deadly nightshade, and more. All contain some amount of a certain toxin. In India in the 90’s sometime I was told by a kinesiologist that I was allergic to all of these except eggplant. Cessation of potato-eating led to cessation of scalp exzema at that time….
But of course later I ate them again – though not every day. And I ate tomatoes, because who can imagine not eating tomatoes?
But I discovered over time, and with experimentation, that tomatoes, even sun-warm and fresh from the garden, badly exacerbated my (agh erg) herpes.
So. No more tomatoes, potatoes, or peppers – or, of course, deadly nightshade, not that that had ever passed my lips.
And – wow zowie – after a while of being nightshade-free, my knees felt free! And my elbows/wrists/ankles! The aging joints stopped letting me know they were aging, altogether. No aches/pains/creaks! No more perpetuation of small strains into months of discomfort!
I don’t know if this would work for you – but stopping sugar and nightshades helped my joints absolutely.
I have read that it is known medically that arthritis can be increased by nightshades….
Good luck! That’s all I’m going to write on this Christmas Eve as we get ready to prepare an Indian feast with potatoes in it I won’t eat; and no tomatoes anyway!
Let potato-eaters eat potatoes! Everybody’s different.
I’d love a nightshade-free cookbook – somebody must have written one, in our new creative age where everybody gets to sing into her computer without let or hindrance.

In Japan

The moon went to a

Moon-gazing party.

All she had to do

Was glide & preen

Like a mirror;

Then chill still as fish-egg.

In the cocoon-skin house

Tea was served,

And sliced persimmon

Thin as glass.

Then people slippered out

The paper door

To stand in the glistening waterfall

Of our desert moon.

People looked at her

And felt their hearts bow.

They wore their best kimonos

And said nothing;

And whatever worms

Were in their hearts

From days of grumpy living

The moon went in

Like a root canal

And relieved them

Temporarily.

(The full relief was still to come.)

There were paths and little bridges

And  bent trees

Short as people.

Anyone could stop anywhere

And just stand with face

Upturned for the moon’s

Kiss which pours mystery

As a lover’s does fire.

Moon – face-to-face with us

Over the cool tract of

Shining distance –

Blazoning in the lifted forehead;

Held in the throat like

Wings.

James Dean’s Mother

James Dean’s Mother

I found a bio of James Dean at a garage sale for a quarter. When I travel I like to take incidental-looking little paperbacks, old or thin or otherwise disposable-looking; then I can discard them when I’m done, or, if they turn out to be good, give them away to friends I’m visiting. I took this one to Europe along with several others, and read it at night in my little room up under the eaves, after doing sessions and groups all day, at the KristalBoom in Holland. I found it unexpectedly engrossing…working as I was with people’s unconsciouses. (If there wasn’t such a word before, there is now.) What, I had wondered, would there be to fill a whole book with, on the life of someone who died when he was twenty-three?

Plenty, it turns out, if the writer knew the subject well and took care to describe, blow by blow as it were, every love/sex affair he ever had, every turn on his motorcycle, every TV show he did; and so on.

In the two years before he died J.D. saw psychiatrists because he had recurring, powerful dreams about his mother. This beloved, humble, plump, richly pretty, doting young woman died at twenty-nine of uterine cancer. There was a photo of her in the middle of the book, where all those satisfying photos usually are in biographies; and I was moved by her dark, zaftig loveliness. Her son of course never recovered from losing her. How could he? I cannot even imagine what it would be like to be a little boy – vulnerable while being told to be strong – and lose the very yolk of my sustenance. Ghastly. Horrible.

The shrinks were so busy protecting their shrinkly personas and collecting money and, too, protecting their own vulnerable emotional beings (since they were male and thus soft-wired to be positively abysmal in the original sense of the word – abyss-like – in their receptive second, emotional chakras) that they did not trouble to actually do him any good. And, of course, they didn’t know how – since the Great God Freud didn’t know how. So Jimmy went on dreaming, and was afraid to go to sleep, and when he did he dreamed some more.

Where is my mother? Where is the Goddess? Why did she leave me? Where is my own receptive abyss and what must I receive in it? Who is Woman? What am I? Who loves me? What is love? What is it to be a Man: in its male aspects, in its female aspects? Why did she leave me? Where did she go? Why me? Was it something I did or didn’t do? Am I born bad? Will I ever know? Is life worth living without being able to address these questions experientially, not intellectually?

J.D. was all about experiencing. He said so, he did so, he went fast and sexed often and drank deep and acted, I am told (I never saw a film of his) with astonishing brilliance. But those shrinks missed the mark completely and made no use of his gifts in trying to help him to plumb himself.

Here’s what I would have done:

First we would have sat in silence for some minutes, letting energy settle, tasting quiet, breathing. Letting things settle down. During these silent minutes I would have tuned into myself; noticed where I was at this moment…and enjoyed it, whatever it was. Then I would be ready for him.

We would open our eyes and I would invite him to speak, to tell me about the dreams, to tell me anything he wanted about his life and his quest and his angst. And I would just listen; just receive. Asking now and then a question to invite something more out into the open.

I would give him painting supplies and good thick paper and invite him to paint a dream he had had. I would leave him alone to do this.

Then I would ask him to explain the painting to me.

When he had shared about it, pointing out this and that bit, it would be time for the next step. I would guide him through becoming each character, symbol, part of the dream in turn. He would step out of James and into…the house in the dream. Become the house. Or if there was a horse, be the horse. If there was a mother…become the mother. And let go – experience – let the energy pour through the whole body, let it live, cry, shout, stomp, dance, shake – whatever was in it to be. The whole room is used for this; painting kept aside to be looked at between characters.

And I would ask questions of the house, the horse, the mother. “How long have you been with Jimmy? How does he treat you? How would you like him to treat you? How do you see the way he lives his life? Is there something you’d like to say to him?” and after each question, giving time and space for that part to respond. I would feel out each character, to go with the enquiry like a man walking in sock feet down a corridor in the dark – feeling the next step, knowing with my whole body the next inch to move forward; sensing my client and his veiled areas of the unconscious.

And Jimmy Dean would have the chance to take his daredevil aliveness into his own interior in a very lit-up, nonchaotic way – step by step, in a safe environment for feeling. His mother would have had the chance to come back to him and love him. He would have been able to tell her he wanted to go with her. He would have been able to know too that another part of him was dedicated to being here and living. That it was not necessary to leave her to do this – he can reclaim her too.

He would have unburdened, opened doors and windows, seen spaciousness. He was young, he had energy to bring to this. He wanted it badly!

Once on a photo shoot for Life Magazine he went into a furniture store and opened a coffin and got in. The photographer was not amused. But doesn’t it seem entirely normal that a child would want to go with his mother?

That world and this are not so far apart – though they seem separated by a gulf an eternity wide. That eternity is made of nothing…so visits are eminently possible. Jimmy could have jumped the divide and found his mother, both within and without his own body. I could have helped him. But I was two years old then, and had problems of my own. I had no degree, and my credibility was already being challenged by my know-everything-better big brothers! But I was already having dreams – mostly in my case about trains – and had many years to live before I knew myself how to parse them.

It’s not that I’m specially invested in Jimmy Dean, whom I never met; or even in young rebels in particular. It’s that dreams are a colorful rich lode of well-knit-up sweaters to be unpicked (to mix metaphors here); not with difficulty or gnarled brow, but with one simple tool – an objective leap into being utterly subjective. Thus the experience rolls, in the state of grace of clear intention; and unravels itself as it goes. – Leaving space for life.

I like the color, I like the tool, I like the deftness of employ which takes dark mystery and delivers out of it coherence, clarity, and visceral understanding.

But he had to crash his Porsche instead, back there in the 50’s, when women wore girdles and Wonderbread was considered delicious and sufficient, and sex was considered horribly unspeakable even though people did lots of it and especially, it seems, in Hollywood; and a rebel could find plenty to be against but not much to be for; and Rock ‘n’ Roll, with whatever temporary wild freedoms it might elicit, was only just about to be born. Could it be that, then, nobody had discovered such simple tools as I describe?

My Last Book

I am sooo pleased to announce that nearly six years of work has culminated in the recent release of my new book, Love at Dancing Leaves: a Tantra Memoir.

I have a feeling of deep completion, and yet of new beginnings.

I’ve poured so much of myself into this project for so long – and perhaps I hope too much for this book: to get wings, to fly far – and to take me with it. The book is not only what it is – a thing, a life unto itself, imbued with all the love, joy, confusion, consternation, ecstasy, and colors of my life as a meditator – a meditator with a Man – but it also, for me, carries my longing to go again into the wider world, to dance and talk and travel and fly there – at least sometimes, at least a lot. To run from the Flatlands, and come home only to ease myself into my joyful domesticity in all its astonishing comfort…until it is time to go again.

Better yet, I would love for this book (or something!) to open the space for me and the man to wander – I cannot see just how -.

But this is all perhaps unfair to the book – too much of a burden for it to carry. It needs its wings- and must fly light – as light as 505 pages can get when I  (with my fifteen pairs of shoes taken along on any trip) have written them; freighted as they are with a cat, a house, some journeys, some recipes, several poems, some drawings, and looots of meditations – not to mention childhood stories and folksy, bewildered vignettes of Midwestern life.

You can read three chapters online at www.madhurijewel.com/book, or http://madhurijewel.com/book/.

The book is also listed on Amazon.com. There are a few reviews there too.

I sent out a lot of freebies, which was a really yummy thing to do – I was so happy to share it with those people to whom it went. I entered a contest for independent publications. I completely bankrupted myself in all this – postage for one book alone to Scotland was $17.83, and lots of books went overseas. But I don’t care – one can be bankrupted in love, and it feels like riches. I do hope anybody buys it, and I’m terrified they won’t – but I am just so glad I had the opprtunity to finish the book and send it where I sent it. Yaaaaay!!!

It’s a good book – it tells how a human woman can bring Light – awareness – to the best of her poor abilities, into the gnarls of Love – romance. How she tried; and what happened. It denies the Hollywood version – that heat equals love; that heat lasts forever (which everybody knows is nonsense anyway.) It describes what one woman did instead.

The book makes me vulnerable in ways I am shy about; and yet my reporterly nature just had to describe those too. It reveals things about femininity via a vis Tantra I have never read in a memoir – though such might exist, somewhere. My Wizard – a Great chiropractor in Kansas City with special powers, it seems – insists I am protected. I hope so – for I am fiercely shy in certain regards. I think all women must be.

I invite you, if your sensitivity is soft and your eyes receptive, to have a look at the work…but it is a temple too; so please, before going in – take off your shoes and leave them at the door.

Thank you.

Slug Haiku

I’m back in Missouri, sooo enjoying garden (strawberries are the most incredible thing to grow – great ground cover, and then they just start giving you this wealth of jewels, a quart of them a day! Wow!), life, house, man, life, body, meditation, life…Scotland was tops, have written about it for friends but don’t feel like posting…Really not at all sure why I have a blog, since it really only makes sense for me if I have lots of time to fool around with it in. So I’m not intending to feed it as regularly as before; don’t want to be at its mercy timewise. Now intending to feed it just when it sort of happens…when I’m in the mood, and can sit here and poke happily and with frowning concentration at a bunch of keys while things spin out. Plenty of topics up my sleeve, but they’ll have to wait…

Anyway, here’s a wee thingie.

Slug Haiku

slug takes one round bite

of each best red strawberry –

then moves on. Spoiled slug!

Bengal Cat

Here’s a pic of a marvellous kitty my brother Ian and I met at the house of an old friend’s, in Sausalito. It is a leopard cat, a cross of some sort of jungly feline with house cat. A descendant of this one won a prize in Monaco and had its picture put on a stamp.

Oh, poo, the pic file and the vid (there’s a vid) are both too big. I’ll have to wait till I can ask Ian to fix it all somehow!

 

Oh good, he just sent me a cropped one, here goes!MadhuriWithKittyCropped