(The Sorcerers’ Crossing by Taisha Abelar)
“As I’ve already explained to you,” she went on, “the body-mind dualism is a false dichotomy.”
“The real division is between the physical body, which houses the mind, and the ethereal body or the double, which houses our energy.”
“The abstract flight takes place when we bring our double to bear on our daily lives.”
“In other words, the moment our physical body becomes totally conscious of its energetic ethereal counterpart, we have crossed over into the abstract; a completely different realm of awareness.”
“If it means I’ll have to change first, I seriously doubt I’ll ever be able to make that crossing,” I said. “Everything seems so deeply ingrained in me that I feel I’m set for life.”
Clara poured some water into my cup. She put down the ceramic pitcher and looked at me squarely.
“There is a way to change,” she said, “and by now you are up to your ears in it. It’s called the recapitulation.”
She assured me that a deep and complete recapitulation enables us to be aware of what we want to change by allowing us to see our lives without delusion.
It gives us a moment’s pause in which we can choose to accept our usual behavior, or to change it by intending it away before it fully entraps us.
“And how do you intend something away?” I asked. “Do you just say, ‘Be gone, Satan!’?”
Clara laughed and took a sip of water. “To change, we need to meet three conditions,” she said: “First, we must announce out loud our decision to change so that intent will hear us.
Second, we must engage our awareness over a period of time: We can’t just start something and give it up as soon as we become discouraged.
Third, we have to view the outcome of our actions with a sense of complete detachment. This means we can’t get involved with the idea of succeeding or failing.
“Follow these three steps and you can change any unwanted feelings and desires in you,” Clara assured me.
“I don’t know, Clara,” I said skeptically. “It sounds so simple the way you put it.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to believe her: It was just that I had always been practical; and from a practical point of view, the task of changing my behavior was staggering in spite of her three-fold program.
We finished our meal in complete silence.
The only sound in the kitchen was the constant dripping of water as it passed through a limestone filter.
That gave me a concrete image of the gradual cleansing process of recapitulating. Suddenly, I had a surge of optimism.
Perhaps it was possible to change oneself; to become purified drop by drop, thought by thought, just like the water passing through the filter.
Above us, the bright track lights cast eerie shadows on the white tablecloth.
Clara put down her chopsticks and began curling her fingers as if she were making shadow pictures on the tablecloth. At any moment I expected her to do a rabbit or a turtle.
“What are you doing?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“This is a form of communication,” she explained, “not with people though, but with that force we call intent.”
She extended her little and index fingers, then made a circle by touching her thumb to the tips of the two remaining fingers. She told me that this was a signal to trap the attention of that force and to allow it to enter the body through the energy lines that end or originate in the fingertips.
“Energy comes through the index and little finger if they are extended like antennae,” she explained, showing me the gesture again. “Then the energy is trapped and held in the circle made by the other three fingers.”
She said that with this specific hand position we can draw sufficient energy into the body to heal or strengthen it, or to change our moods and habits.