nax nok

A week ago Friday I was unable to work on the computer, so decided to head to my studio until the heavens opened up and a river flooded the streets, so I sat in a chair and discovered something new. Energy that went from me to another, back and forth in an infinity symbol. It filled me so full that I had to expend it, or I was going to spontaneously combust. The next person that stepped into my sight was Cindy Goldman who just finished with a client.

Laying on the table with music playing and candles lit, she experienced the ride of her life, as did I. I still don't understand what it is or how it rolls but I know it's powerful, intense, and life-altering. I was trained many years ago in energy therapy. I even did a double-blind study on how it affects people with chronic pain. The results were astonishing. In spite of that, I soon dropped out of the energy scene. I was taught to look for something "wrong" with the person on my table, and that felt wrong to me.

This time it's different. I do not give out information on what happens during the sessions because I don't join my clients on their trips. I stand in the midst of the most amazing energy soaking it in, filling up, and sending it out. It's a lovely exchange. The more I do this, the more real it is to me and the less real the physical world becomes. I bask in energy that feels good and scoot away from that which doesn't.

And that brings me to what happened last Friday night. I was over at Square Burger with my friends, Tammy and Sonja, when I was telling them about the name of this energy, nax nok, and how it came about.

A friend and I were at the American Indian Museum in Manhattan when he found the name in one of the exhibits. It means supernatural power. The exhibit's description was this:

"Our ancestors inhabited a universe of powerful spirits. They understood that people and supernatural beings coexisted, and that interactions between them were frequent. For our ancestors, all success came from nax nok, a cosmic being who gave strength to deserving individuals. Nax nok could be revealed in dreams and visions, or through encounters with animals."

After leaving Manhattan that day we went to his house in Connecticut and eventually Googled nax nok. While doing that, there was an animal in his back yard that caught my eye. It walked along his rock wall but stopped right across from us long enough for him to take pictures. He'd never seen anything like it before or since. It was a black mink, and that's how nax nok was revealed to us.

It was an amazingly wonderful and magical weekend spent with him. We watched The Last of the Mohicans. He played the soundtrack while giving me a massage in his bedroom, and before I left he burned a copy of the music for me. That's the CD I play in my energy sessions, and all of these are reasons that I began to think of this man again after almost two and a half years. I am in awe of all that has transpired since then and how it's led me back to him. It's such a surprise but yet when I look back at the magic of it all, it appears perfectly orchestrated.

So, after all these years I'm doing energy work again. I'm creating jewelry with an essential nax nok oil blend. And every moment spent in this energy envelopes me in the energetic being I call Jim. It feels so good that I don't want to do anything else.

What's time got to do with it?

Seriously, today's July 9th. Honest to God, how did that happen? Not to mention that it's 2009. I'm tired of this time thing. Can't we just do away with it once and for all? Can't we go to work whenever we feel like it? Same thing with eating and sleeping? What if we ran our lives by internal clocks instead? Actually, what if we ran everything in our lives from an internal barometer instead of any external ones?

For instance, I awoke this morning to water dripping from the bathroom ceiling. That's after planning a day filled with "have-to" things because of the direction my life has been going. Alyssa has her first open mic night at the new digs so there's a lot to go into preparing for it. Cyndy and I just got two parties to cater to today and in between prep time and serving time, we were going to go over a plan on how we could make a catering business work between us.

But then I awoke to water dripping from the ceiling.

Did I mention that the shelf in the closet fell and clothes are stacked on the couch, boxes filled with shoes, hats, and belts stashed in every extra space? My art supplies are in every corner possible. And surely I've mentioned that I'm working on an art project for Working Mother Media that needs to be sent to NYC as soon as possible, so my sewing machine, cutting materials, ironing board, and boxes of fabric are filling the kitchen and living room. Right now I'm propped on the end of the couch with my laptop on my knees typing in the dark, because Alyssa's fallen asleep on the couch sitting up. She stayed up last night working on things for her office space. She was there late with the electrician, a dear friend so generous to do the work, and then came home preparing for today.

I don't think I lasted being vertical much past midnight even with a couple of cups of coffee. I was working on my art, but when it comes to using the sewing machine I really need to be fully functioning. I can screw things up when I'm overly tired. And my machine's been with me longer than most relationships, and it knows when I've had enough. It will just stop working, and it did very early this morning. It kept breaking threads, and I just called it a night.

When I finally got ready for bed, it seemed to me that the bathroom ceiling was still in one piece. It was between then and when I was awakened by dripping water, that the ceiling became less dense. It's got a nice line running through it with three holes that drip water. Alyssa called maintenance right away -- a 1-866 number -- and talked with someone from India. She told them that it was an emergency. They asked where she was. Not what apartment number but what apartment complex in what state and in what town. They said they'd get right over.

From India? From what state and from what town?

Just a few weeks ago, we would've been able to go to a very wonderful man in the main building and tell him what the problem is. He would've taken care of it, but now everything goes through corporate and apparently corporate operates out of India as does every other U.S. corporation that's still intact. No, I know they don't "operate" out of India, but it's their contract labor in India that we as consumers have to deal with.

So, how long do you suppose it's going to take to get maintenance here to fix a dripping ceiling and reinstall a shelf in the closet? Well, we'll see. Let's just hope that when they arrive, I'm here to take the dog out with me, because there's no one coming in here as long as he's here alone.

But didn't this posting start out talking about time and internal barometers instead of external ones controlling how our days are being spent? And just where was I going with that concept? Oh, who knows...my external surroundings are playing way too big a role in my consciousness right now to go any deeper. The internal workings are just going to have to work without me for a while. Right now I will just master going with the flow of wherever this river takes me. (Thanks, Silky, for that metaphor this morning!)