I often can’t find the words to describe the UnCommon Touch experience. So, I’ll let another tell you a little about it!
I often can’t find the words to describe the UnCommon Touch experience. So, I’ll let another tell you a little about it!
I don’t share with many folk the experiences I have with some frequency; almost daily. I’m not quite sure why I tend to keep them to myself. I think there are a combination of factors. They are at once deeply moving, awe-inspiring, sometimes physically taxing, some more ‘ecstatic’ than others, and seem just for me. I don’t often try to understand, figure ’em out or connect the dots. I also don’t connect them to life-stuff, psychic-stuff, spiritual-stuff and other whatnot in the way I think many other people do. And, lately, folks appear to be looking to me for answers and aren’t comfortable in accepting, “I don’t know.” I find myself using that phrase a lot when it comes to the ‘work’ that I and quite a few others do. I don’t know what ‘ascension’ is (twelfth floor, please?). I don’t know your past lives; don’t have any interest in my own. I don’t know why folks are so interested in understanding a 5th dimension (or if there is one) when we are right here, right now, in this one. I don’t know why a dog that couldn’t walk now can after I had a mere thought and why a cancerous tumor wouldn’t go away after the same process. I don’t know a whole heck of a lot and, frankly, don’t care to. So, I keep a lot to myself.
I’m drawn to share last Wednesday’s experience, though, for some reason. It’s not the first of its kind but the intensity of it, the expression of it, and the equine company in which it occurred were a first. And, I think, that by sharing my experiences others will find some comfort in knowing they are not alone & they may come to understand, through continued glimpses into my world, how I come to experience the world in my unique way and how I ‘just’ know and trust.
Some may know that I do work with horses working on both the physical and energetic levels; transforming bodies, demeanor, and communion with their humans. This week I was asked to begin working with a mare named Marge (I know, right? Who names a champion mare Marge?) She in no way resembles the blue bouffant of the same-named Simpson character. However, her frenetic behavior might look a little like Homer’s!
There was another person, a trainer named Michelle, with me to hold her still because Marge is a little off the hook—frenetic only half-describes it. I got started in my normal way and just felt and watched energy move through, in and around. I talked to her a little, watched her fight & respond, feeling it in her own unique way.
After several minutes, I felt something strange within me—as if it had moved into me–looked to Michelle and said, “Something just moved into me”. We both noted that was odd because that doesn’t happen when I work. Things don’t attach themselves to me. Introduce themselves, yes. Attach, move into, errrr, nope. I kept on keeping on and a few minutes later, energy heightened in intensity, and apparently I looked at Michelle and said, “This isn’t me.” Although I was aware that I was breathing ‘normally’, I was quite certain I would pass out because I wasn’t breathing ‘right’. I surrendered and began crying—not of sadness, not in connection with the animal’s emotions (that happens with some frequency, especially with those who have been traumatized physically and emotionally—similar to my engagement with humas), but in communion with something entirely different. I kept working with the heightened energy, the horse relaxed and shifted in her own way to something resembling calm. The string of moments (I’ve no idea how long the experience continued) was broken only when a truck pulled into the drive. I brought my bits back together, brought the horse’s bits back together, wiped snot and tears, and tried to gather my conscious thoughts. The only thing that really gelled was, “HOLY CRAP! What the hell was that about!?”
As Michelle was helping me re-ground with some tea, I told her again that that wasn’t me. That it couldn’t have been. That it felt like Christ himself or the power behind the horse herself stepped into me and that I could no more explain that or what it meant than I could anything else of this strange experience of the world I live in.
When I asked what she felt, Michelle said, “A swirling, powerful peace.” Again, I thought, “Holy crap” and couldn’t do much more than shake my head and say thank you.
I left shortly after, still trying to mull over in my head the turn of events. I know better than to try to ‘figure it out’ and I deal with similar experiences daily. Not this intense, but enough to know to just ‘roll with it’. However, that was enough to make me sit up and take notice in a slightly different way than ‘usual’.
As I turned onto Atoka Road heading home, though, the voice that’s not a voice, the thought that’s not a thought said, “That IS you. That is the whole purpose of your being! That IS your being. Know this.” If it could be given a face, voice, and tone, it would resemble a ‘tut-tutt’-ing, head shaking in exasperation, universal grandmother/father voice.
The next thought—one I have with some frequency—was, “Okay, then. Now what do I do with that.”
A week later, there have been string of other moments and events that have been built upon this one that I’ll share later.
Every now and again, I feel the need to get a taste of my own medicine. When I do that, I click around and find out when and where Panache Desai is going to be. This time it was Black Mountain, North Carolina. What’s little road trip? Only seven hours between here and there, right? Yup. Something like that. Seven hours to drive for an energetic ass-kicking.
Let me divert a bit with a little back-story. I first saw Panache about a year ago. He ‘accidentally’ showed up on my computer screen. Riiiiight. You know how I feel about ‘accidents’, right? I knew in less than an instant that I needed him like I needed air. I drove like a bat out of hell for 14 hours to St. Petersburg, FL, to the Unity Church there to see him. I sat. Looked around at the eclectic crowd and tried not to fidget (remember how I have to practice patience?). When he began speaking I almost fell over. He was using the same language, the exact same words I did while working, the language that others thought I channeled. I was brilliantly relieved and tickled that I wasn’t alone. Then, he started doing his thing. He wandered around the room touching folks and when he finally got to me, I was just ‘struck’. That’s the only way I know how to describe it except to add that in one moment, in less than a second, I just ‘knew’. I knew everything. I knew that what I’d begun doing a few months beforehand had little to do with healing torn rotator cuffs and a lot with changing the world. All in a flash of light (although that doesn’t quite describe it) and presence that moved in and through me in a split second. And, then, it was all I could do to not interrupt the still, meditative manner that others had settled into without laughing hysterically! Guffawing, snarfing, snorting…the whole shebang.
The mystical experiences clients had been describing to me finally made sense. Those may have made sense but the “holy shit” factor remained at the forefront of my brain all night. The 14 hour drive back to Virginia was filled with self-conversation that went something like this: “Oh. Shit.” “Holy CRAP!” “HOLY crap!” “Whatthehellisthatallabout!” “Crappity, crap, crap, crap!!” “Damn, there’s responsibility here!” “Now what the fuck do I do with that bit of information?” Enough that the chatter sent me straight to the computer before the bathroom (after 14 hrs on the road, no less) to send an email that said, essentially, “Holy crap. Now what the hell do I do?” The response, bless him, was, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
Moving back on track to this summer’s trip. Only 7 hours, not 14. And I knew what I was getting into. Didn’t feel the ‘need’ but wanted to feel what others feel through me. A reminder, really, of what we’re about. As far as I know, he and I are the only ones that work in this strange and usual fashion (odds are, though, that if there are two of us, there are bound to be more around the globe). What’s a state line or two between us, I thought? So I went.
Hauled ass (safely, of course!) through the heart of Virginia into some of North Carolina’s finest spaces. The two-hour session on Friday evening was nice. I was tired and it was a great way to end a day of travel. Just a nice energetic high of the warm, fuzzy kind. On Saturday, though, initially it wasn’t. I found myself annoyed. Annoyed that I was listening to myself. Really annoyed. Remember, we really do speak the same language–damn near word for word. It was only toward the end of the day that the smack upside the head occurred. The universal, “Yeah. You. You big dummy. You ought to listen to yourself!”
A week or so before I made the run to NC, I met with a really awesome woman from Northern Virginia. During the course of our time together I looked at her and said, “Quit being a pussy.” (Yes, I really did. I don’t have to make any of this up, kids. These aren’t therapy sessions. And, seriously, wouldn’t you love to hear your therapist say that?). After listening to what Panache had to say toward the end of Saturday, I realized I’d been speaking to myself as well. I’d been settling for being a pussy. Preaching on one hand while my other hand chose to hold me back. Although in some respects I have behaved fearlessly, in one key aspect I had chosen not to.
Because I am ridiculously human, I’d held onto a couple of key beliefs about myself that others had sold me on. The primary of those (the one addressed now) was that I didn’t have value. Grounded in years of ‘stuff’, I’d held onto that notion. And, subsequently, have lived recently as if I was of no value, as if my needs and desires, and, yes, my Gift, had no value. I’d dealt with it at one relational level but not at another. Silly girl. Don’t know what I was thinking. Actually, that’s not quite true. What I was thinking was, “Oh. I can’t do that. They won’t like me/come to me/value me/want me (think Sally Field) if I do …”. In this case, ‘it’ was if I charge for my services what I need to have my own needs met. As if it were perfectly okay for me to provide what I do for others and martyr myself in the process.
It is no longer okay for me to suffer. It’s no longer okay for me to choose between putting gas in the car and going to the dentist. It’s no longer okay for me to be afraid of what others think of my need to take care of myself. It is not okay for me to be afraid of every noise my car makes. It is perfectly okay for me to want underwear that fits. So, I’ve raised my rates. I’ve raised them to help support both me and those who can’t afford me at any rate. I do a lot of work for no fee at all and when I do, it’s done with love. I choose to do that for those in need who have limited or no income because I fully believe what I call the Gift is of all of us and for all of us. I have previously set myself up and created limitations that needn’t exist because I was afraid. No mas. I have desires to work with veterans groups, pay for advertising, develop a retreat center, and live on my own again. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
There are those who will say, “Oh, there she goes. Just like all these other healer-types. All about the money.” Others have already come right out and said, “You can’t do that! You can’t charge so much for something that people don’t understand!” “You can’t expect people to pay you for miracles.” You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. And, we all know how I feel about that. So be it. That’s their problem, not mine. It is up to others to decide what the value of the Gift is for them and to find the courage to say things like, “I really can’t afford more than the $60 I used pay you.” Those who don’t pay me do that every day and, then, pay with loving kindness, chocolate cake, garden goodies, and the willingness to be open to themselves & others.
A good part of what I teach is grounded in deciding (see above). Deciding how we want to feel. How we want to experience life. I’ve finally decided that I want to live freely, without self-imposed limitations. I’ve got plans and am creating a way to make them happen. I am worthy.
There are those who think of me as ‘merely’ naive when it comes to things of spirit. Here, I ask they consider their own limitation of expression that appears bound by others’ ideas & ideals. The string of logic posed by quite a few is that I’ve not studied spiritualism, metaphysics, any aspect of any religion, and not living/speaking/healing/BE-ing within the bounds of someone else’s playbook. I’ve not sought out sages or saddhus, not read from mystics and mages, not worshiped at or made an altar, I’ve not done enough things or read enough of stuff to know of what I speak and certainly not enough to know Truth–neither my own nor that that is Universal.
So what if I get my inspiration from Dean Koontz as much as I do Rumi? So what that I don’t have Lama so-and-sos books as reference guides? So what that I picked up all those books you have on your shelves, read a few pages or chapters and said, “Nope. That’s not it.” So what that I can say I don’t know? I don’t care to know. I have no need or desire to understand. I don’t need to read someone else version of how my life should/might/could be. So what that I can say I Know more than has ever been forgotten of that for which there are no words to be written in a book? So what that I don’t assign any more significance to a crystal than I do the chair that supports my ass, the friends that feed my hunger, or the wind that tousles my hair?
So what that I don’t give a crap about past lives, Akashic records, 2012, 11/11/11 or future-&-fortune telling? So what that I’m not afraid of and cannot explain how or why I go formless; how or why I can feel more heartbeats than my own; how or why my vibrations intensify sometimes so that furniture and the air move around me? I just not afraid and just don’t care.
Why does it bother anyone that I can say with certainty that I am enlightened? Why? Why does it bother you so that I don’t couch any of this in terms of ‘spiritual’ but consider it merely living. Not a separate part of me or anyone/thing in the Universe?
With some frequency, I say to as many people as I can, “Forget what you think you know.” That bugs a lot of folks. Annoys, confuses, angers and frightens. There is always one or a few someones who believe they know everything. Can recite left, right, upside down and backwards biblical & kabbahlistic texts, A Course in Miracles, Eckhart Tolle’s latest; carry around with them photos of their gurus, pocket angel cards, and other accoutrement; wear their crystals and white; repeat “peace and light”, and still live in a state of unawareness. Unaware, unopen to change or other avenues of experience and expression.
Generally speaking, when I ask folks to forget what they think they know, I’m not trying to challenge the ideas they hold (although, sometimes, for grins & giggles that is my entire point). We connect to and engage with those things that resonate with us, interest us and excite us. I get that. I want, though, to push people past their limitations. I want to push people past the ideas & attitudes of others that they hold so dear, onto so tightly that they cannot see their own. There are a lot of people saying the same thing and slightly different versions of the same thing for a reason. I don’t know what it is and don’t care to. What I do know and care about is people remaining comfortable and complacent in the ‘same thing’ in the same manner we, as humans, have done over the course of our existence. The ‘same thing’ that leads to dogma, doctrination, discrimination of the negative sort without the discrimination of the discerning sort.
I have the unique ability to see in ways others cannot. Or, more pointedly, in ways others choose not to. I can see through the veils, the stories, the fears, the mirrors, the cloaks, the stuff-n-stuff that holds people back from their potential. I see the essence. It has nothing to do with form, fashion, or finessing of words. When I can see it clearly and they cannot fathom because of those limitations, I, quite frankly, get annoyed. Because of this stuff is so ridiculously simple. Because if you can’t actually practice it, why do you preach it, and hold onto it–that thing–so hard that ?
Let go. Open yourself up. Entirely. It’s not enough to say, “I’ve got an open heart” when the rest of you is shut down and shut out of the simplicity of the mystery of the Universe. You don’t need to ‘figure it out’. There is nothing that needs fixing. Nothing that needs to be rescued or saved. Sure, tools are good. As are crutches. However, when you allow your tool to become the crutch for too long, you forget how to walk on your own!
Breathe. Be. Know. Know thyself and be true. And live fully, openly.
A woman who called the other day to see about scheduling an appointment asked that question. She’s feeling like one hot mess and wanted to know if I could help. She’d heard about me through local gossip (free marketing, anyone?) and wanted to know how this “stuff” works, “exactly”.
I dunno exactly. Here’s what I do know.
There is nothing wrong with you.
You may feel all sorts of things. You may feel afraid, anxious, awkward, addicted, alone, angry, compulsive, impulsive, enraged, exhausted, depressed, downtrodden, delusional, disorganized, dissociated, lonely, spent, sleep-drived, sad, stuck, annoyed, paranoid, grief-stricken, spent, out-of-whack, wonky, weird, panic-stricken, pissed off, pissed upon, distressed, disturbed, dis-ordered. disconnected, discombobulated, dis-eased, uneasy, uninterested in everything and everyone around you, moody, mad, masochistic, irritated, irrational, inattentive, hypervigilant, hyperactive, startled, sad, guilty, traumatized, spaced-out, stunted, stunned, stressed, suicidal, rage-filled, and, frankly, just generally fucked up. You’re dealing with some serious shit. It’s your crap and yours alone to try to figure out.
But these things, these feelings are not you. They are of you, sure. They are sometimes of others (figure that one out, eh?). You are dealing with them (or notsomuch as is often case) in the best way you know how. You feel these things. They suck. They make you feel like you suck. However, you are not them. There is nothing wrong with you. And you do not suck.
Once you know that, once you decide that, you will recognize all the tools you need to heal, to release these feelings that are holding you back, are within you. It’s simple really. Not necessarily easy. But simple. I say that it is simple but not necessarily easy for a couple reasons. First, frankly, we get used to these feelings. As uncomfortable as they may be, they often become our comfort zone. They help shape our day, our relationships, our responses to life-stuff. We get used to them and like having at least one reliable thing in the midst of the fuckedupedness. Others get used to them. And, despite all the blah-blah about change being good, life being change, a lot of folks don’t know how to and don’t want to. Change, that is. Again, though, there is nothing inherently wrong with that. Some people say it’s wrong, assign it the ‘wrong’ label, but really, it just is. The second goes back a few sentences to ‘others get used to them’.
What other people think or expect of us has an impact on us that we often don’t realize. Others might not be comfortable or understand our erratic behavior, frightening mood swings, inability to move farther than the couch, or need for the booze. However, folks at least have a glimpse of what is going on if we say, “I have PTSD” or “I’m depressed.” The labels connect them to a definition or label that may not entirely explain your experience but can lessen their fear and open their hearts. It helps them define you. They, too, become comfortable in that and become afraid of your own change because they face being in a place of fear again.
There is no need to be afraid. You have all of the answers within you. And, it’s time to get right with you.
Same client said, “That’s such a freakin’ cliche, Ingrid. I don’t buy that.” Well, it may be a cliche. It may be tired. You may be sick of hearing it but odds are you’re hearing it for a reason. This cliche is true. You can’t fully do for others until you can deal with you. All of your glorious, beautiful fuckedupedness.
Client says, “What the hell do you know about this?” Me: “Been there. Done that.”
I first tried to kill myself sometime while I was in elementary school (maybe before?). I won’t go into details about that part of my story because I don’t want to hurt others but I decided that I didn’t want to be in this world because something wasn’t right. It wasn’t right that I was afraid all the time. It wasn’t right that I hurt all the time. However, as most kids do, I survived. Sort of. I mean, I continued to breathe. After the attempt and through the next few years.
Then I got older and attempted again as a teenager. And again. And each time I survived still trying to understand why I didn’t fit in, why I was still here, why no one heard me and why no one could see what was happening. When all those crappy feelings that I didn’t know how to deal with me caught up with me as an adult, things stepped up a notch. I worked myself into the ground, I became an ‘expert’, I worked hard, partied harder, and hit a brick wall in 2004. I hit that brick wall with all the force of a Mack truck doing 110. Bertha was in the mouth more than once, finger on the trigger more than once. I took medical leave from my Probation job after my own physician said, “Well, Ingrid, we call this depression” in only the way a brilliant, sarcastic mind who knows that you know what’s going on can do.
In all of this, I knew things were really, really, incredibly messed up beyond description. FUBARed beyond FUBAR. And as I tried to figure out why I was here, what the heck was going on with me, why I was ready to blow the back of my head off but didn’t really want to, I had to explain it over and over to people. And each person said something slightly different: “You’re Depressed.” “You’re Bi-Polar.” “You are really ill.” “You are what we call a PTSDer. A Complex PTSDer (as if that made it all the more special).”
After two shrinks, four therapists, I finally decided I wasn’t what they thought I was. I might have been feeling whacked out in more ways than one but I knew that each time someone else tried to pigeon-hole me as a way of understanding me, they got it wrong.
As soon as I decided I was a beautiful disaster that could fix my own-damn-self (dammit!), things changed. Immediately. IBS symptoms gone after I decided that caffeine, wine, and nicotine were the causes. Cut those out, cut out IBS. Cut out the suicidal ideation because I didn’t really want to die. Sometimes felt like it but didn’t really want to. Left the husband that I’d talked about leaving for over a year within two weeks, moved 1700 miles to one of the most spectacular places on the planet, and have watched the beautiful disaster morph into a wondrous woman (if I do say so my own-damn-self!) who’s been given an amazing Gift.
I have been there. Walked the darkest path, sunk into the deepest depths and thrived!! I am the most blessed of all people. And I am grateful beyond words that I was kept here to be able to do what I do.
This “stuff” work because when you are ready, when you decide that it’s time to let go of all that holds you back and no longer serves you, the tools come to you clearly. I am simply one of them. When I am with you and I breathe and connect to the Divine (however you define that) , I am a tool, a facilitator that allows what you need to release to just go. It’s that simple. And, yes, this part really is that easy.
When those things that no longer serve you leave; when you’re not holding on to them, you begin to experience the world and all of its challenges in a different manner. Those emotions? You still feel them but they don’t define you. You feel them, acknowledge them and let them go. As you do, you grow. As you grow into the new experience of life, those things that do serve you just come to you. In magnificent ways. This is the healing process. Maybe I should call it growth process instead, no?
When you’re ready, just get to me.
“I’m careful about miraculous stuff, but for a very real, straight up, down to earth gal, she shares a remarkable undefinable gift with her clients.” Sandy C, Delaplane, VA (09/17/09)
It’s not New Age; it’s of the Ages. It’s real, not woo-woo. It doesn’t require belief or faith (although I’m sure it helps to not prefer a root canal). It doesn’t interfere with belief or faith. Its only magic is in its simplicity. I breathe, you heal. You change. You shift. You de-stress. You find peace. In fact, *I* don’t do much of anything. This is my Gift. For you. For everyone.
Young. Old. Child-like adults. Every shade of pink, brown, yellow. Man. Woman. Christian, non. Conseriberal. Libertive. (Yes, I did that on purpose!)
This gift is something I call UnCommon Touch, inspired by the book of the same title by Tom Harpur. It is simply Divinely-inspired transformative energy for which I am merely a facilitator and catalyst. It is a shared connection to the Divine that brings about profound changes in everyone that comes into contact with it. It is neither modality-based nor definition driven. In fact, this is of that for which there are no words (bet you’re wondering why this post is so long, now, huh?). It is certainly ‘energetic’ but there are no symbols, rules, etc. I simply breathe and place my hands on people.
Sometimes change is profound. Sometimes subtle. I’ve heard on more than one occasion, “I’m not quite sure what happened but I feel so much better!” People have experienced the instantaneous healing of physical wounds and chronic pain, relieved themselves of previously unresolved emotional pain, and found inner strength previously untapped. Physical and emotional symptoms of PTSD have disappeared (including suicidality), rotator cuffs have healed after 20 years, and spiritual gifts have been ignited.
Although each session is unique and everyone experiences the energy differently, there are some commonalities throughout. People “see” differently, they begin to experience life differently, the awareness of Self and connectivity to others increases, masks fall away. While this process develops, healing occurs on the emotional level (generally preceding other changes) as well as mentally and physically. It becomes easier to access that place of Peace and move more Grace-fully when handling all that which life tends to throw at us.
Here’s what a couple of others have had to say:
“Although being able to talk to my therapist has done wonders to clear my thoughts, I credit the session yesterday with you for allowing me to feel almost “new.” In this lifetime, I’ve experienced NOTHING more powerful than the healing and enlightening energy the two of us were graced with yesterday.”
“I continue to feel clearer pathways to understanding-both sleeping and waking.”
“If you have not personally experienced hands-on healing of this sort, and you’re in need of physical, emotional or spiritual uplifting and/or healing – you may want to go outside your comfort zone a bit to take advantage of Ingrid’s healing presence. She is indeed a wonder and has truly been graced with a gift to assist and heal others. And to add even more to all of this – she’s an extremely entertaining, friendly, compassionate and sensitive human being.”
“She can work on anyone, two legged or four.”
“No more night terrors. No more night sweats. No more nightmares. No more. Period.”
“I found again what I thought I’d lost a long time ago. I feel reconnected to me.”
So, this is my Gift. It is one of the Divine and although it flows through me, it is of all of us and for all of us. I don’t know why I was chosen, I just know that I was. My educational and career background (criminal justice!) certainly didn’t prepare me for it. I’ve no connection to any faith, religious or spiritual practice outside of The Golden Rule. Becoming unemployed last year is the greatest thing that ever happened to me because it brought me to this.
For a long time, gifts such as this have been held as outside of the ordinary for a multitude of reasons. It is time for healing like this to move out of the “New Agey-metaphysic-magical-mystery-tour-mumbo-jumbo” into the mainstream. The healing is my Gift. Getting this to everyone is now my job. And I could use some help getting it done. Ideas, suggestions, comments, introductions, anything constructive would be appreciated!