I'll not even attempt to capture my full experience at SC '98. The time there
deserves every effort that I could possibly muster to put it into words for
others to fully appreciate. Perhaps in the future I'll be better able to put
it all in to words. Instead, let me be a little lazy and just focus on what I
learned about the interplay between talking and doing.
After two days of lecture by Joseph Chilton Pearce, an octogenarian of
formidable vigor and passion, on the relationship between the heart and the
rest of the body, I was overwhelmed by the value of the kind of work he was
spearheading. It would be accurate to say that Mr. Pearce was proving
scientifically what has been known for ages by the poets: The heart holds the
power of the being.
I felt compelled to share my appreciation. During a break in the lecture, I
spied his daughter, Shakti, a willowy sixteen year old. She had been quietly
listening to every word of her Dad's lecture; no doubt one that she had heard
many times before. Her capacity for giving her full attention to her subject
was palpably evident, and watching her during her Dad's talk was almost
surreal. She simply locked in to his lecture without a whit of judgment,
boredom, approval or disapproval. She was pure presence, and the joy of
watching her was that you could see the wheels turning, sorting, mixing and
matching all that she heard and observed -- both of her Dad and of her
surroundings.
And her surroundings, especially in the context of the lectures, had a surreal
quality to them all their own. Between a few rows of folding chairs and the
small stage at the head of the converted "Trolley Barn" that served as our
Common area was a conglomeration of pillows, blankets, sleeping bags, arms,
legs, torsos, heads, tails and hair all intertwined in what we called the
"Puppy Pile." You could call it a pile of humanity, a vortex of flesh,
friendlies in contact, human beings linked up like batteries, but, bottom
line, the Puppy Pile is about close, physical connection between people.
Joe did have some concerns. This was not what would be called the usual
audience of a lecturer of his stature. This was a clothing optional
gathering, though functionally only a few of us consistently exercised that
option. Still, Joe was concerned about Shakti being exposed to too much. Not
sure what to expect from a largely polyamorous gathering, when he first
noticed that the mounds of flesh on the floor in front of him were intimately
intertwined with each other, he at first blanched and one could sense his
protective stance in the presence of his daughter. But as his lectures
progressed, he became more and more comfortable with the touching, feeling,
stroking and exploring that was going on in front of him.
Why? It was simple, really. Joe was talking about some very important
things. He demonstrated through visual aids, quotation from abstracts and
documented experiments, how the heart is energetically the most potent part of
the body, how it literally sets the pace for everything else that occurs in
the body including thought and how it also has the capability (and even
the directive many would say) to have a positive effect on others that result
in healing.
While Joe was illustrating and demonstrating the facts and figures and
scientific research, a group of about fifteen of us were viscerally
experiencing the concepts that he was bringing forth. By the end of the
lecture, we ALL knew that what Joe was talking about that energy is emitted
from the heart and it affects people in close proximity to it.
Joe was talking about the power of the heart as proven through
experimentation. How you can measure energy from the heart in amperes while
the activity in the brain is measured by millivolts. How, it has been
measured that the heart expresses a measurable "energy field" that is
strongest in about a three foot radius of the heart itself and then continues
to be measurable out to a twelve foot radius. And how people, when they are
in synch with each other ("on the same wavelength") actually exhibit heart
wave patterns that are in "entrainment," or linked.
Now, these experiments were done under controlled conditions. My impression
was that most of the studies Joe was talking about were done with pairs or
triples of people and most certainly without the sensual touching that was
going on in the puppy pile. That seemed to make a significant amount of
difference in the intensity of the subjective experience for sure, but it was
often remarked by those in the vicinity of the puppy piles, that the energy
emanating from those piles were infectious, uplifting and palpable. The
luxury of human contact, so terribly limited by our larger society, when
unleashed produces a distinct energy. Linking the hearts through the
sensuality of a number of individuals whose desire was to simply feel
connected (as opposed to undertaking a focus of sexual expression) allowed a
greater energy to be experienced by those nearby than would have been possible
with less people in the pile or as many people without the intimate contact.
Now here's where it gets personal. I worked in medicine for 16 years. Twelve
years of that was as a Mobile Intensive Care Unit Paramedic. No one has to
show me the power of the heart. No one has to prove to me the power of
prayer. Nobody has to quantitatively prove to me that I can be within about
six feet of a person and know what emotional state they are in, if they are a
danger to themselves or others, or on the bright side, if they have healing
energy that they are compelled to share. I have lived all of these moments.
What I hadn't realized, however, was that by intentionally linking people up
for a common purpose a bunch of people you can create a "field" if you
will, where not only is the energy emanated palpable, but it provides the
atmosphere wherin magic can occur.
One night, I came in to an evening lecture late. By this time, I was an
avowed Puppy Pile Person. The pile was like a magnet drawing me to it.
Although not clear on why, I just knew I had to meld everything I had with the
others. But I was late and couldn't get to the pile without disrupting the
speaker. So I sat down in a chair and half listened while I obsessed about
getting into that puppy pile. For twenty minutes. I'm slow, but it did
eventually dawn on me and based in large part on things that I had learned
from Joe that my experience would be much more pleasurable and productive if
I simply reached out and linked physically with someone else. Hardly had the
thought crossed my mind than I noticed E.B., one of the Scamps, bending over
and massaging his stiff neck.
I did some maneuvering and got behind him and for the next half hour massaged
his neck shoulders and back. Each minute found me more calm, much more
attentive, and quite a bit more retentive of what was technically very complex
lecture material. Still, though, there was that pile, and I had to be there.
During a brief break, I lunged for the flesh and crawled in between a few
people, scrunched into a misshapen form to conform with whatever square inch
of real estate was available and then settled in. The first thing I noticed
was warmth. The next thing I noticed was a hand on my thigh was gently
stroking it. Another hand was on my shoulder, rubbing it and I found my foot
gently rubbing someone else's and my left hand naturally graduated to the hair
of someone nearby while my attention focused on the speaker.
Body parts, my own and others, would switch position, begin touching and move
on to the next part or person, and, all the time, the lecturer continued while
I followed every word. Everybody else seemed to be, too, because it was out
of the puppy pile that a bunch of very pertinent questions arose; questions
completely in step with the topic matter. I felt so clear headed. The
lecturer's words elicited vivid images in my mind's eye. It all made sense
and effortlessly. Later on that night, while reviewing some of the heavier
material in my mind and remembering everything, I remarked, "Shit, if I
could've attended lectures in college the way I got to do this one, I'd have a
degree today!" To which someone chimed in, "Graduate? Hell, I'd have a
couple damn pH.d's!"
Totally relaxed yet alert, I just melted into the whole experience, feeling
carried. Someone would need to shift a leg and I'd have to lay on my side and
support my head with my hand. I'd start to feel a cramp, a pain, in my neck
just to the left and middle of my spine. The pain would get worse. Suddenly,
within maybe 30 seconds and just as I was getting ready to try to move my hand
off my head to rub the sore spot on my neck, someone's hand would go right to
the spot and begin to massage it. That hand would leave, and the discomfort
with it. Then, I'd feel a muscle cramp in my thigh and couldn't really quite
get to it. Almost, as if it were an expected part of life, someone would
start moving their knee into the hot spot on my thigh and the pain would
abate.
I became aware of what my own hands were doing. Not only my hands, but
elbows, feet any moveable part of my body. They were all participating in a
slow symphony of "Search and Rub;" migrating from one body part of a fellow
Puppy-Piler to another, being drawn to a specific area or part of the others'
body and massaging. The very last thought to flash through my mind was, "I
wonder who I'm touching and I wonder who's touching me." I didn't care. I
was both going to where I was needed to be and getting what I needed at the
same time.
And then, someone would approach the pile. There would be a difference in
energy. Perhaps that person was emotionally upset, or depressed. As soon as
that person would be within a few feet of me, I'd know their mood. It wasn't
so much that I knew the specific shade of their mood as much as I'd sense,
very strongly, disturbed or at peace, "us" or "not us." More than once,
someone came to the pile in tears, was enveloped and embraced by the group and
within minutes was transformed into a part of the larger group, in entrainment
with us, and energetically, indistinguishable, without having been a drain on
the energy of the others. Miracles? After enough practice in the puppy pile,
it felt more like my God(ess)-given right to be with others for the purpose of
healing.
In order to wrap this all up, we have to get back to Mr. Pearce's daughter,
Shakti. We left her standing on the side watching everything going on in the
Puppy Pile at about the same time as I'm telling her, "You know, I just wanted
to say that I see just how important the work is that your Dad is doing. You
can be proud how he's breaking ground for others to follow. This is important
stuff."
Shakti took in every word of my complement to her Dad. I felt the words
tumbling in her brain as she looked over to the Puppy Pile and then over to
him. I knew, if I were sixteen years old and on the lecture circuit with my
Dad, I'd be about as bored and fidgity as could be. I was surprised with how
deeply she took in the comment, and even a little slow to pick up the words
she actually said in response: "Well, I guess some people have to talk and
other people have to do."
She said this so matter-of-factly and without the slightest hint of judgment
and with the strongest sense of acceptance and understanding of having seen
her Dad's words in action -- that I was shocked. Even though Shakti hadn't
been a part of the Puppy Piles, she had all the experience necessary to know
we all need each other to make the magic happen.
Russ Reina is a businessman, writer, actor, stand-up comic and a Minister of
the Universal Life Church. He expects the "Congregation Of The Puppy Pile" to
be fully active in Santa Barbara sometime in 1999.