What is channeling? Let’s look at the definition before we begin, from Google:
1. direct toward a particular end or object.
2. (of a person) serve as a medium for (a spirit).
We can channel many things. Emotions, ideas, spirits, the flow of water or sand. In this context, I’ll be writing about channeling spirit. Giving spirit a different name, so that is allows for more flexibility, we’ll call it consciousness. Consciousness is awareness of self, as a Self. Whether that be in corporeal form or otherwise. It is the “I am”.
So what does it really mean to channel consciousness? Mostly, we think of channeling in the instances of flowing a stream of knowing that isn’t our own. That we are channeling through the knowing of another, or many other, aware beings.
I believe it’s absolutely possible to channel any awareness (or consciousness) that you choose. From the great musicians and fine artists to healers and leaders of the past. You just have to have an intention and a knowing of how to channel.
Which brings me to the point of this post. We are already channeling. All of us are channeling the spirit, the consciousness, the awareness of who we are. I am channeling spirit that breathes life into my body and personality as Heba.
Interestingly, we acknowledge this less and feel more excited or intrigued by the channeling of other beings. But what about our own spirit? What about our own awareness? Isn’t there a level of mastery to channeling your own spirit first? What does that really mean and what does it look like?
Last night I laid in bed and thought about this. Am I channeling the spirit of Heba? Yes and no. There is no spirit of Heba. The energy or awareness that animates me seems to be nameless. As I dial in and feel around in what makes me alive, it feels like a nameless flow. But somehow, it must be related to me and my personality. There must be some kind of bond between this nameless and who I consider to be “me”.
I felt around some more. I was curious. I remembered how I channel the cluster of light I call “the collective”. I remembered how I travel into that space that is common to us all, the spirit realm. I applied that same knowing [of how to travel] to experience my own spirit.
Without the training and socializing of society – did we have an identity? What makes us have different personalities? Is the spirit that brings me to life the same as everyone else?
I wanted to know that spirit, that awareness. I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to experience it freely and without restriction or distraction.
I started to feel like…I don’t think my spirit is different than anyone else’s. It seems to pulsate in the same nameless space that is common to us all. It animates me without judgement or expectation. Like a wave swelling in the middle of the sea and rumbling towards the shore.
I took comfort in this for awhile. It felt nice to experience the nameless part of me. The part that seemed to have no impulse of its own – apart from Being.
I was free. I relaxed into this like I was weightless on the surface of that same sea. I let my arms and legs open widely as I let go, throwing myself backward into the metaphysical waters of this space.
So how does this nameless space correspond to the endless hunger of the physical self? Where in the connection lines does Nameless and Free become an Identity with desires?
There was something here, I knew it like a squirrel knows there is food inside the hardened shell of a nut. In fact, I felt so much here that I didn’t know where to start pulling the thread of unraveling. [Though I know that so much always ends up distilling into a basic truth or two.]
I felt the necessity of personality. And I also felt that it needn’t bind us so tightly. Realizing that I come from a boundless place where I have no name makes me feel less attached and desperately grasping to the identity of Heba. There is in reality, no Heba at all. I am renewed in each day, free to live out whatever aspects I would like to.
I began to feel more of a connection to this quiet Being space rather than the personality Heba. I didn’t really need an identity to exist. I am here, even with no name. I am still sitting here, thinking, writing, enjoying the sunlight coming in through the window.
I had a theory long ago that we were all the same wave, living in the same mind, but each thinking we were singular. That feeling of “me” was the same feeling we all felt, the same “me”. But we think we’re reflecting it differently.
The idea of not having an identity used to scare me. I wanted to be someone my whole life. I wanted to be relevant, to feel seen. I felt small and alone. I wanted to feel big and loved.
Now I realized it didn’t matter. All the details I thought were building this identity of Heba weren’t building that at all. They were just choices. Choices made by a nameless expression of life. A collection of preferences that in fact, changed constantly. The illusion of a constant, progressing personality was just that – an illusion.
As I see it now, in my mind’s eye, I am more of a cloud of spontaneously erupting preferences. With seeming continuity. Maybe this continuity made us feel more safe. But I see now that it is unnecessary. It’s nice sometimes to experience it, but it’s just a preference like everything else.
There isn’t really continuity. Only spontaneous impulses, like little sparks of electricity. Erupting into that which we translate as form and physicality.
This all leads to so many more questions. Where does preference come from? I wanted to travel the railway between my nameless self and my identity. I wanted to feel the twists and turns as the formless takes on personality and embraces linear time. I wanted to feel the spectrum of “me” and track where those impulses originate.