Thinking vs Cleaning: from Darkness into Light

It is Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. From this night forward on our calendar, days lengthen and contain more light.

What a gift, that out of darkness comes light!

And how profoundly Ho'oponopono is changing me. Through learning from Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len, Mabel Katz, Kamaile, and others, many of my previously rigid attitudes have started to slip away. From darkness, into light.

I noticed this in the optometrist's office the other day, when I went for my annual eye exam.

The doctor, a solid, no-nonsense woman, went about her business in checking me over. "Oh," she remarked, "I can see there was a time you wore your contacts too long." Blood vessels were growing on my cornea -- a sign of irritation. "Those will never go away," she said. "If they grow across your pupil, you won't be able to see."

"Blood vessels are tricky," she continued. People who smoke, for instance, damage retinal blood vessels the same way others in the body are damaged. They constrict, and the smallest ones die. "If that happens to enough of them, you've got macular degeneration," she said. "Nothing can be done about that."

I was glad I'm not a smoker.

My vision prescription had changed, enough for new pairs of glasses and contacts. "I hope you're not thinking about Lasik [eye surgery to correct vision]," she said. (I wasn't). "It will only correct your far vision, and you won't be able to see up close. Your eyeball is just the shape and length it is. It can't change."

I listened quietly, cleaning with "thank you" and "lightswitch". If my eyeball can't change, I wondered, then why is my vision changing? Could one's total mental, emotional, spiritual, and physiological state possibly affect eyeball shape, length and refraction? I really don't know, but was amazed to find these questions arising within me rather than automatically accepting the statements.

It was a watershed moment for me.

A few years ago I myself was probably also pronouncing medical curses like this. Of course I didn't mean to do that, but I didn't understand what I was doing. I thought I was only informing people of "the facts". Also, I was "smart" and wanted people to experience my competence. (please forgive the accompanying arrogance!)

I originally trained in conventional medicine, where we were supposed to inform people in such a definitive manner. Nothing wrong with that, but what of allowing for something unexpected to happen? If your consciousness can't imagine it, will you miss it when it's in front of you?

Curiosity led me to train also in integrative medicine and classical homeopathy -- fields where there seems more room for possibility.

And even further with Ho'oponopono, it seems that anything at all is possible. After all, we're asking for Divinity's help in releasing problems.

While listening to my optometrist, I recognized with gratitude that my consciousness is more open today than it was a few years ago. I'm moving from thinking alone (relying only on my intellect) to allowing for intuition, heart-sense, and spiritual grace. The optometrist's comments highlighted the contrast between my yesterdays and today.

When consciousness opens, possibility opens too.

In 1999, Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len wrote an essay titled "Unfolding" that speaks to this difference. An excerpt reads:

"Handling the situation by thinking causes chaos and confusion . . .

Thinking deals only with effects, what is perceived, not causes as cleaning does. . . .

Thinking is about being right, about taking positions, about making your point.

Cleaning is about bringing peace into a situation, peace beyond all understanding, followed by perfect and right solutions.

Thinking is aggressive, telling the other person what is so.

Cleaning is about love, about allowing love to transmute memories to love.

And it does it lovingly.

Cleaning is about creating a peaceful and wonderful relationship with love and everyone and everything. . . ."

Thank you Dr. Hew Len, for sharing your light in this season of light. I am grateful.

Peace Begins with Me,

Pam