Homegrown Community
By Cal Garrison
Whenever I hear the word community, something in me seizes up at the thought of having to yoke my individuality to anything communal or collective. The feeling arises that in order to be part of any type of group thing I either have to get real serious about a cause, or lose my self completely — or both. In spite of these two very limiting considerations, I have spent the past 42 of my 59 years involved with groups of like-minded individuals who shared some sort of spiritual, healing, or planetary purpose.
Figuring out how to be part of a collective effort without becoming fanatic and without trading in my uniqueness took me longer than it would take most people. All I can say is I am better at it now than I was when I was 18. And it may be that the last nine years of looking at the Flower of Life pattern and doing the MerKaBa finally helped me get the picture. We're all one. We're all connected. The idea of community is a natural extension of both of those truths and appears to be as axiomatic. Even though I know this, after all these years, I am still learning how to live it day by day.
Somehow or other, as we contemplate 2012 and adjust to the changes bombarding the planet, the whole concept of community seems to be more in our face. It's pretty clear that we're all in the same boat, bearing down on the same iceberg, and the impending doom has got everyone thinking that we may just be here to help each other. So the question is, 'How do we experience community, and what does it mean to us now?'
Discounting my short career as a Girl Scout, and my abortive attempts to fit in with the in crowd at school, my first exposure to being part of a group that I actually wanted to belong to happened when I was 18. My friends and I were exploring the occult and somehow we ended up working with the Ouija board. Two nights a week we'd get together and download information from a spirit who called her self 'Mama'. At the time the three of us were thinking of quitting college and going to India to find God or, at the very least, a suitable replacement. One night when we asked 'Mama' what to do about this, the Ouija board spelled out, 'You don't have to go the India to find what you're looking for. All you have to do is go to 85 Pinkney Street'.
It was about nine-o'clock at night. Needless to say we dropped the planchette and got on the subway that went to Beacon Hill. Walking around for a while we found Pinkney Street and when we got to number 85 we were greeted by a bronze plaque that indicated this building housed the Boston center for the Gurdjieff work. It was the beginning of an eight-year journey into those teachings and the start of my first group experience.
At 26, I left the rarified atmosphere of the only group I've ever been involved in that really worked and moved on to EST and a series of pop-enlightenment systems that mushroomed back in the seventies. Disillusioned by the robotic mental focus that dominated those 'fix-me-up' seminars, by 1978 I renounced the whole group thing and for the next 13 years, went my own way.
'My own way' involved taking what I had learned up till that point and using it. The way I saw things, it seemed to me that I had enough information to get the job done and didn't need anymore help. The witchcraft I'd been practicing in secret since I was a kid got pulled out of the closet and I became pretty adept as a solitary. As I recall I got interested in Rajneesh's teachings around that time too. There was a Rajneesh community nearby but I didn't like or trust the people who ran it and I couldn't deal with the phony energy that came out of the group. They didn't like me much either. Still, the Rajneesh books added something to my life so I read them in solitude and practiced magic in the same way until 1991.
That was the year I found four other witches. I take back what I said about the Gurdjieff group being the only group that ever lived up to my expectations. Now that I think of it, me and my witch friends were totally connected. Whatever we did, all of it worked because we were involved in this magical discovery process that taught us more than anyone could imagine.
For seven years, at every New and Full Moon and at all of the Cross-Quarters we'd go to our circle in the field and weave spells around the fire. Were it not for the changes each of us conjured up during that time we'd probably still be making magic together. The West Pawlet Witches disbanded in 1998, not because we fell apart but because we grew from the experience and life took us in different directions.
At that point I got back into the formal group saddle. The Flower of Life changed my tune — and everything else for that matter. I got so involved with that work I became a facilitator. Filled with the notion that all life could be healed if everyone knew about the MerKaBa, I began teaching workshops and dealing with groups again. Being part of this organization was easy. I could be my self and still feel connected to others. Nine years down the road, that hasn't changed.
Somehow or other The Flower of Life dropped me down Slim Spurling's rabbit hole. I began working closely with Slim in 2001. His work definitely had a collective edge to it. We had a community of like-minded souls, all of whom were very different but who shared the same vision. The common cause was cleaning up the planet and it felt good to me because I knew that if we could get this thing to fly we could change the world in ways that would benefit absolutely everyone. I still feel that way about it.
In the last couple of years I've been thinking a lot — and my thoughts have led me to see that I have always framed my concept of group-ness in terms of communes, co-ops, and idealistic spiritual/healing endeavors — but things have changed for me, or shall I say the frame got bigger. And while I feel that it's good to be involved in structured efforts to bring about needed changes that have a collective impact, at this point my sense of community is no longer restricted to anything that has a name or a cause attached to it.
This realization opened me up to the idea that my community is made up of whoever happens to be there at any given time. The man I work with seven days a week is part of it. So is my boss — and so is my good friend who shows up every day at five-o'clock for a reality check. My neighbors, who know nothing about the MerKaBa and even less about Slim's work, are members of my community. So is the cashier at Safeway and so is Randy, the guy who bags my groceries. My cat is also part of this club.
I now see everything I do happening in community because no matter where I go I am linked energetically to whoever is there. I don't need to know what they think. We don't necessarily have to be on the same page about God, politics, food, life, or anything because we are all alive, and that's what we have in common — breathing is the only prerequisite for this new group of mine.
Maybe I've lost it, but I don't think so. Whenever I am awake I am aware of the people who enter and leave my world on a day-to-day basis. When I am with anyone I remember that they are God too. I treat everyone as if their life matters to me. I don't separate my self from anyone anymore and it has taken away the angst I've had lately about not being part of some big, 'let's do it together' plan. You see, even though I like the idea of living communally, sharing gardens, and power, and resources and all of that, my life doesn't allow me to engage in those things at this stage of the game.
Yes I am part of the Flower of Life organization, and part of the Spirit of Ma'at community, and Slim's community too. But my world is no longer limited to those who share similar spiritual beliefs or the same sense of purpose. I've stretched my boundaries to include whoever crosses my path. Even the people I don't like and have a hard time with are part of my community — because sometimes I have to see them too. And wherever I am, I feel my energy field touching the field of others who may not even be aware of the fact that they have one, and I am clear that these points of contact, by law, are making some kind of difference.
This new deal of mine is working quite well. I like it better than the organized approach. Organized endeavors are always born of the best intentions but things have a way of getting complicated by the human ego and by private agendas that interfere with whatever the work happens to be. If the spiritual focus gets lost, and if someone isn't there with enough wisdom to see what needs to happen, the baser elements of human nature make it extremely difficult to stay on track.
Overexposure can ruin things too. I have seen so many things that looked good in theory get screwed up in practice because someone thought they needed to wholesale the idea, or the people involved weren't conscious enough to keep their egos, their personal ambitions, and/or their greed in check. If one person in a group is out of alignment with spirit, or wielding power in a negative way, the effort just won't fly or endure over time. Structured efforts are great, but they're tricky — and groups — well, it takes a tremendous amount of discernment to sift through the BS that shows up when you're in one.
We live every day in our lives doing what we do. Everyone has their own reality and their own life. But in the course of doing what we do, we involve our selves with others who are there for us one way or another, no matter how commonplace or brief the contact is. And because we are connected to all of them, where we're at on any given day will impact those people energetically. We can be at the junkyard or out shopping at Bloomingdale's, it makes no difference — our fields are in contact with whoever is there and whatever we project touches them too. If even a single particle of light from one field bounces out and enters the field of another, energy is exchanged and some sort of ripple effect carries that energy to everyone who occupies the same space.
How simple. For those of you who feel self-conscious because you can't get it together to chop wood and carry water with a bunch of other people, or because you aren't ready to move off the grid and hunker down with a herd of likeminded catastrophe freaks, or because you've just had it up to here with groups, how about becoming part of my latest thing?
It's called the human race. If you can breathe you're automatically a member of this community. There are no dues, it doesn't matter what you believe, you don't have to know anything, and you can't get kicked out! All you have to do to maintain your membership is pay attention to your own life and treat everyone you meet as if you knew they were God. I have a feeling if we all decided to join this group, it just might change the world.
About Cal Garrison
Cal is a writer with four books to her credit. ‘The Old Girls’ Book of Spells’, ‘The Old Girls’ Book of Dreams’, and her latest book, ‘Witch On the Go’ were published by RedWheel/Weiser Press and are available in bookstores or on Amazon.com. In addition to her own work, she also writes for Slim Spurling. Her first book with Slim, ‘Slim Spurling’s Universe’ is being followed up by their second book together which, with any luck, will be out in 2008—2009.
A professional astrologer with 35 years experience Cal has cast over 6000 charts and is one of the best in her field. She is also an expert on the Tarot. When she’s not running the Spirit of Ma'at office, or working on her books, Cal spends her time doing in depth astrology and tarot readings for people all over the country.
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