A Figeater beetle landed in my hair

A little Messenger in the garden has graced me with his (or her) wisdom three times now, over the course of three days of lunching en plein air with Joseph. Not so little, actually. She’s a glittering, iridescent green, Figeater beetle, loud as a lawnmower, and she has insisted on landing in my hair while I’m eating. Which means she’d become a totem for me, my beetle totem.

The third time she landed, she stayed so long Joseph was able to grab the camera for her closeups. I finally had to urge her gently away because lunch was over. I will admit, I kept asking Joseph, “What is she doing? Is she leaving anything behind?!?”

Yes, she was. A message that I should be the one leaving things behind.

Figeater Beetle close up in hairThis San Diego beetle is so large, she kept tugging the hair at the top of my head as she explored at my shoulder. I did happen to be eating one of Joseph’s breakfast puddings with figs and chocolate in it, but she wasn’t interested in that. I’ve read that these beetles, related to Egyptian scarabs, aren’t interested in fresh fruit. They like the stuff that’s already decomposing. (Good news for Joseph’s pudding, which was delicious, of course!)

So what could I do but look up the meaning of this close animal encounter in the trusty Animal-Speak Pocket Guide. When a creature gets right in your face, or exhibits unusual behavior in a way that definitely says, “Hey! I’m talking to you,” it’s wise to pay attention. One of your Cosmic CoAuthors is trying to reach you and you’re not getting it. Time to send in the animal totem!

“Resurrection,” said the pocket guide. “Protect the changes you’re making.”

But the the full-sized paperback explained why: “As with many insects, the beetle goes through a tremendous metamorphosis from the grub stage to the winged.”

Oh, I can relate to that!!

Figeater Beetle Close up 2“In its winged stage, the front set of wings are thickened into hard covers which hold and protect the soft underside. This may indicate, for those with this totem, a need to be more protective, or possibly that you are too closed off.” The author, the late Ted Andrews, concludes, “Is it time to resurrect some aspect of your life? Is it time to leave the past behind?” Yes to both. Absolutely.

But there’s always the old part of yourself that gets stubborn or frightened at the last minute. The Figeater helped me recognize this subconscious struggle. And this morning, a dull pain in my left knee reminded me that there was more to know.

When Pain Tries to Stop You

Moving ahead is exciting; letting go of the past is something else entirely: Who you’ve thought you are. All the reasons you can’t. What you’ve envisioned as your humble (maybe useless?) place in the universe. Your propensity to hold your sacred gifts close to your chest and keep them protected. This must stop. And quickly, if you’re going to move forward at all!

But today I woke up with that nagging knee pain. From my training as a Certified Biofield Tuner, I know that the electromagnetic biofield surrounding my left knee often holds the energy of things we are reluctant to let go of in order to move forward: past experiences, beliefs, traumas, and emotions, even physical conditions or people, places, and things, loves, fears, guilts. Just about anything you don’t want to leave behind. We spend a lot of time in biofield tuning (sound therapy) working on this area in people’s biofield anatomies, helping them get free from “things from the past no longer indicated or appropriate in the present.*”

I’d forgotten. To move into my new position in life, which is to lead Joseph’s and my new company, Jolibro, as president, to fulfill a new biofield research contract—even though I’ve been preparing for lifetimes, and training, and visioning, and hoping—I must now ACTUALLY relinquish the past.

I’d been warned for so many decades of self-development studies. To progress, to evolve into your true Self and keep up with the Universe’s constant change, you too must constantly discard the old and replace it with the new. But here it is, the real deal. And my knee is emitting one loud bout of protest:

Are you sure?

Is this right?

You mean I can’t be _(name your adjective: shy, invisible, insecure)_ any more?

I can no longer believe the world doesn’t require my unique qualities?Shared knowledge of my discoveries about the human energy anatomy?

Can’t I quietly disappear into the crowd and ignore the part of me that yearns to share?

Well. I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t be having this kind of resistance! Right? I mean, I’ve studied all this. I know better. But there it is. My knee pain was sheer resistance embodied, and ouch. Not fun! It might keep me from dancing if I don’t sort this out!

Tricksy, That Brain of Yours!

I’ve learned another name for this condition. It’s called Tension Myositis Syndrome (or TMS) as identified by Dr. John E. Sarno in his excellent book Healing Back Pain: The Mind-Body Connection.

If you haven’t read this, you should consider it. Even if you’re not in pain. Every household should own a copy of this vital information because this kind of pain syndrome is so prevalent and so easy to fix, even to the point of eliminating the need for all those surgeries that don’t really work. (The pain will emerge elsewhere anyway, if you haven’t dealt with the underlying emotional issue.) The book was recommended to me by my dance teacher, the wonderful John Selby. It cured a debilitating, excruciating back/diaphragm spasm I’d been suffering for 4 months—instantly. As soon as I read the introductory pages, in fact!

Yes, I thought as I read the description, this is me! Gone. Hasn’t come back.

BUT … my body has tried this pain trick on me many times since, and each time, I’ve used Dr. Sarno’s method to scare it right back off. Including this morning. I said to my knee, “YOU are TMS!” I know this is only my brain trying to protect me by slightly reducing oxygen to that area as a clever way to conceal the emotional issue that’s bothering me, buried in my subconscious. Physical pain is easier to deal with than emotional pain, my brain seems to believe.

The trick is, if you’ve buried an issue by diversion into a pain situation, you have to sleuth it out. Usually it’s the “forbidden” emotion, the one you don’t want to admit having. The last thing you’ll consciously think of. But I have tools for that kind of sleuthing.

Tuning Forks to the Rescue!

Limiting beliefs, that’s what I’m up against. But the tuning forks are great at revealing hidden resistance and subconscious traumatic experience remnants that still affect you in the present. They also help to move that old energy along, let it be recycled back into the Infinite centrifuge of life, to reshape and re-attune your biofield back into normal patterns of harmony and peace.

So I’ve bucked up my spirits and I’m forging ahead. Thank you, Forks. Thank you, Knee! And thank you, Figeater. You’ve helped me see how I’ve been hiding and protecting my abilities, especially those once considered fringe by society.

Yet the world has changed and accepted so much! Every field of science is now undergoing a great re-evaluation of what is solid, what is true, and what was not. The contract I’m about to fulfill comes from a global corporation ready to explore this new frontier. Who would have guessed I’d ever see such a time?

But the world is ready and very needy. We all must spread our iridescent wings and fly! Because we share with Figeater, not only the pattern of resurrection/reincarnation, but the need to beautify and enlighten the world around us in our unique way, each marvelous one of us.

* * * *

* From Eileen McKusick’s excellent Tuning the Human Biofield: Healing with Vibrational Sound Therapy.