Bring on Decade 2 of the Third Millennium

You bet it’s coming. Two weeks from now we’ll begin the second decade in the 2,000’s. Did this first decade ever get a proper name, such as the 20th century’s “Roaring Twenties”? I’m proposing “Rootin’ tootin’ TWO-10s.”

Just to add a little extra dignity to our lives, you know.

You’re invited to comment here with your proposed name for our second decade. Because the end of a major time marker is a great time to look forward.

It’s also a great time to look back. So you’re also invited to share any stories, or summaries, related to Deeper Perception. Over the last decade, did it make a difference to your life, whether gaining skills as an empath, giving or receiving aura reading, or opening up the face to do physiognomy?

So many of you Blog-Buddies are lurkers. It doesn’t take great techno-smarts to find out. You’re tellin’ me. So remember that any comment you send must be enabled; that means you can request being anonymous and I’ll “make it so,” just like Captain Picard on the Starship Enterprise. (Ever see the great TV series “Star Trek: The Next Generation”?)

Since I would never ask you’all to do something I wouldn’t do myself, here come some of my Third Millennium Biggies.

#1 Empath coach Third Millennium Biggie

Over the past decade, I’ve had the chance to train empaths in person, all the way from the mystical land of Cincinnati all the way to L.A., Europe, and Asia. Consciousness of my clients grows livelier each passing year.

How appropriate, given that this last decade has intensified the evolutionary process here at Earth School, putting in the squeeze on us all to evolve or to suffer.

An Asian-American client, Anita Chu, coined the term “Empath Merge” during this decade. That has been a productive discovery for me intellectually. But mostly this empath piece of my work with Deeper Perception stays within me as a set of cherished stories. Here’s one of my favorites.

In Japan, I had a very, very hardworking set of students. Becoming skilled as an empath requires letting go in certain ways. If my system of Empath Empowerment(TM) involved putting up walls or working hard to fix boundaries, this group would have found our workshop easy. I mean hard. I mean comfortable, anyway.

Right after lunch on Day 2 of our Empath Empowerment Workshop, I learned something dreadful from my interpreter Kaori-san. Because she could actually understand things people were saying (unlike me in Japan), Kaori had overheard comments from course participants that many had come down with headaches.

I needed something to shake these kids up, and fast!

So I did one of those “screaming prayers” that healers and teachers and just plain people send out during emergencies.

Inspiration struck. When the group assembled, I started with some positive chit-chat and then gulped and got down to it. “How many of you have developed headaches when we met before lunch?” I asked. Nearly every hand shot up.

“We’re going to do a two-part group exercise,” I announced. “First we will do the walk of strain and trying hard. Then that will be over. And I mean over in your lives! After that, we’ll take the same walk, only loosey goosey.”

The skyscraper that housed our workshop was honeycombed with seminar rooms. Imagine floors and floors of workshops going on simultaneously on that lovely Sunday in Tokyo. Picture enormous rooms. Hundreds of chairs in each. Everything orderly and extremely quiet in the halls.

Our 10th floor had a small lobby. It was about two doors over and afforded plenty of stepping room.

Tongue-in-cheek, I led the group. Setting a fine example, I assumed the stance of a sumo wrestler, only heavier. Scrunching up my face with great concentration, I grunted. My good-sport students also assumed their own versions of the Straining, Struggling Student.

Together we stomped out into that lobby, had a good laugh, and returned to our seminar room. “All that trying and straining is over for good, okay?” I reminded them.

Now it was time for Round 2. “Walk in the most easy, carefree way you can,” I told my sweet students. “Personally, I’m going to skip.”

And I did so, leading the way, swinging my arms wildly and laughing. With varying degrees of “What the hell,” my valiant students followed this second example.

Just as we were about to leave the lobby, everything stopped. A very, very tense woman entered the lobby and began speaking in a very harsh-sounding Japanese. Later I learned from a member of VOICE staff how the conversation went. Here is my best paraphrase:

BUILDING MANAGER: You are making too much noise. Stop instantly. You are forbidden to ever make so much noise again.

YUKO-SAN: Sumimasen. Omigosh we are so terribly sorry and embarrassed. Please, please forgive us.

BUILDING MANAGER: Your group is now prohibited from ever offering a workshop in our fine building again. Obviously!

YUKO-SAN: Say it isn’t so. We are really truly terribly, terribly sorry and embarrassed.

BUILDING MANAGER: Stony, rage-filled silence. And a look that could shrivel.

QUICK THINKING YUKO-SAN: Please be kind to us. Can our company please graciously allow us to rent one of your seminar rooms in the future  (where, incidentally, each workshop room rental cost googobs of money)? We promise that never, ever again will we do such a terrible, terrible thing? Please? Pretty please?

BUILDING MANAGER: I suppose so. But remember, YOU MUST BE QUIET.

Our chastened group returned VERY QUIETLY to our seminar room. This was not exactly the lesson I had meant to impart, and the group never did become quite as free-spirited as their American teacher.

However, all the students experienced that they could go through outrageous behavior, survive the shaming and discipline because they had done something “so outrageous,” and — get this — God never struck them dead.

This, I think, was what helped them most to loosen up. By the end of that workshop, yes, there were miracles for my much-more relaxed Japanese empath students.

#2 A More Personal Third Millennium Biggie

Yoicks, I could spend all day blogging stories of gratitude. For me, this last decade has definitely been the most fulfilling one yet.

How about this last one? It’s the very biggest shift I have noticed, with the results coming clear over the last couple of years.

You may know that I facilitate sessions of healing — the Cut Cords of Attachment kind, plus techniques of Spiritual Cleansing and Protection, plus Energy Release Regression Therapy. You may also know that I began these personal sessions in 1986, an outgrowth of work I’d been doing in the mind-body-spirit field since 1970.

For all of those years, I loved the work. Of course. What, you think I went into this field for the social status and the big bucks?

As a proud graduate of my college, I’d get issues of the Brandeis University Magazine and read about my fellow alumna, many of whom have done things like high-level work for the U.S. president, running a university, managing top corporations. One even co-starred on “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” Because Gates McFadden, pictured at the top of this post, really did graduate from my school.

Sometimes, reading such things, I would wonder, “What if I had chosen a normal career?” My MSW as a therapist wasn’t completed. I dropped out because I already had plenty of clients for this alternative kind of healing I do.

Besides, I figured out (somewhat belatedly) that even if I finally received that counseling credential, I wouldn’t keep it. Because I would have to apply the techniques being taught, forms of psychological healing that I didn’t believe were as powerful for bringing results as Energy Spirituality.

Although I have never had serious regrets, certainly there has been longing.

Yet, over this decade, I finally got it. I am a professional at this.

All those phoner clients from Australia and Central America and Africa and Europe and Asia! All those phoner clients, and in-person clients who have found our sessions so helpful they have come back for more and then sent their friends.

I got it. Sure I would accept an honorary degree for this kind of work. But I’m not holding my breath since, meanwhile, there’s too much talking and helping to do.

In a way, I have had something in common with those very tense Japanese students. I worried that some of my relatives were right — the yuppie college professor side of my family who haven’t spoken to me in years because they hold my life work in contempt. I worried that I would never feel the same way about myself as if I had managed to achieve some nice little counseling practice in a swank office building.

This funny new work with Deeper Perception, these ideas I’ve been given, all the chances to help people… it really does count. In my own way, I’ve relaxed.