The Ego Hurricane: Curse and Blessing

Sleep leaves us totally vulnerable to the beck and call of our unconscious. We spend a few hours each night open to stark naked truth, for better or for worse. If we turn our attention to those nocturnal events in our wake time, we glean valuable insight.
Lately I have been called to that vulnerable space in waking time as I deal with an incident that sent me into an emotional hurricane of old tapes. Around and out and in my ego spins on the rim of the hurricane, covering the same territory ad nauseum while longing to catch hold of the Eye where I can be drawn down into Presence for as long as that gift lasts. This time is both cursed and blessed. Cursed because that slip into emptiness is unspeakably lonely. One day when I was twenty-seven years old I thought I was losing my mind. I wasn’t, but the feeling of abandonment was keen enough to convince me I was. I shouted out to the God of my youth, “Help me! I don’t know what to do.” And the way opened.

I hate the hurricane and I love it because it makes me strip down to my essential humanity where I have to wallow in my muddy feelings. It’s so damned uncomfortable. And so redeeming because it’s in the wallowing that I become vulnerable enough to let go and can slip into the Eye of Presence.

After four dizzy days of spinning and three sleepless nights, I have finally caught onto the innermost rim and slipped into the Eye. Ahhh.

An Offering of Spiritual Practices for Hurricane Times

  • I kept my battery powered candle on throughout the night as a symbol that it is through the wounds that the light gets in (Thank you, Leonard Cohen.)


  • Sent loving kindness to the object of my wrath (between rants)…poured love like gold into the wound that wounded until it’s scar blinded with bling! Here is my version of it:

142 (2) I surround you with the light of god

  • Swore softly at my cat between clenched teeth
  • Called upon my angels and spirit guides to surround me and let pass into me and from me only that energy which is for the greatest good.
  • Cleansed my aura often with spritz spray because- electromagnatic reality
  • Debriefed with a friend
    My mantra:

Breathing in I am peace
Breathing out I release anger
Breathing in I am power
Breathing out I release dominance.
May it be so.


Photo Credit:  Artist:  Robin Gelanti

Un-Masque The Basilisk

Basilisk Unmasqued

The only one way to kill it:  hold a mirror before its eyes.  When the snake sees its own reflection it will die of fright. 


How I loved the scene from “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” when Harry’s spell casts Dudley head first into the snake’s den, freeing the snake.  The snake slithers out, fixes an intense gaze on Harry and says, “Sssssthanks.” Harry replies, “Any time.”  The snake in this scene bears no resemblance to the evil basilisk in later Harry Potter adventures. The Yin and Yang of life seems to be ever-present.  “You can’t have one without the other.” The legend of the Basilisk, the King of Serpents relates only one way to kill it:  hold a mirror before its eyes.  When the snake sees its own reflection it will die of fright.  So perhaps the best spiritual practice is not so much to focus on eradicating evil, as much as to focus on revealing it for what it is. Unmasking the evil which nips at our heels is a process of self-realization.  That is where our energy is more profoundly effective, for in bringing our potential as human beings to realization, we also release the hold that evil can have on us.  To be fully human is to be a spark of the divine, Meister Eckhart tells us.  The most positive symbology of snakes is that of regeneration.    The sloughing off of dead skin becomes a kind of resurrection for the snake.  Changing our focus to self-realization promises a more vibrant spiritual life for us. Guardians of sacred spaces is a common symbol for snakes throughout the world.  Countless sculptures of the Buddha have him sitting on the coils of a snake, while the snake’s head rises above the Buddha with hood flared.


File:Buddha shielded by Naga.jpg

Wikipedia Commons

In dream symbology snakes can be interpreted as guardians as well, but as guardians of the underground, the unconscious guardians of our consciousness.  For profound and interesting treatment of animal symbols in dreams, including snakes visit my friends at and  Our unconscious is indeed a sacred space which we need to guard and nourish.  It holds the key to un-masquing the basilisk.    Pay attention.


The Other Eye: A Dreampoem

eye of horus2

Sunday December 8, 2013


What seemed silly upon awakening has become an awakening:

There is an eye in my left leg, below the knee.  It bulges out, making walking difficult.  I know it is an eye, because it feels like the one they removed from my right leg last year.  It keeps vigil from the top of my dresser in the bedroom.  I feel both anxious and eager as I await the extraction.  I walk into the pure white lab and climb onto a table.  Technicians sedate me and when I come out of it they hand me the eye, which is entirely unlike the eye on the dresser in the bedroom.  That eye is just an ordinary eye, while the extraordinary nature of this eye dazzles and delights.  It is the Eye of Horus, resplendent in violet and lapis and gold.  I leave the lab carrying the eye in my outstretched hand.


The Other Eye

We get by with
The faithful ordinary eye…
Let that sleeping dog lie!
Why risk exposing
The Other Eye?

Sheathes the sacred eye in a
Safe shroud, away from
Mocking taunts and response-ability,
Deaf to neighbors’ silent pleas to
Restore second-sight
To their first eyes.

Grace intervenes, and
The Other Eye becomes
Too overwhelming to contain.
Integrity replaces fear.
We carry the gift in our
Extended hands,
Inviting.  Challenging.

©  2013   rita h. kowats

Walk on the Wild Side Salon: Dreampoem

Wee Hours of the Morning 11/24/13

As the Spirit “drove Jesus into the desert,” so was I driven to the Walk-on-the-Wild-Side Salon, all a jumble with trepidation and exhilaration.  It was time for something eclectic and edgy.  I sit in my chair and wait until my stylist arrives:  tall, slender to the extreme, head a vision to behold.  Half of his hair is layered into sculpted spikes, splattered carefully with hues of chartreuse, pink, and purple.  My heart hammers to the rhythm of, “Mayday!  Mayday!”

“So, what’s shakin’?” asks Zeus?  I describe my desired cut.  “O.K.,” he says,  “But are you prepared to walk on the wild side?  You have to do exactly what I say.”  “Yes.  I’m ready,”  I assure myself, more than Zeus.  “First,” he begins, “You have to get loose.”  With that, he slams his hip into my hip, shaking my shins and rattling my teeth.  “Hey!”  I shout.  “You said you were ready.  Now get loose, girl!”  Zeus retorts, and he hits me on the other hip.

At last, all loosey goosey, and raring for a revamp, we get started.  Zeus is an artist in the studio of his dreams- or is that in the studio of my dream?  He designs sans mirror, I suppose to keep me loosey goosey.  Finis!  Zeus brings out the mirror.  There before me sits Lisbeth Salander, the Girl with the Dragon Tatoo.  OMG.

I awake with a guffaw that evokes a startled meow from my cat.  “Where have YOU just been?” she demands.  By the time this dream hit paper, a picture of Lizbeth Salander is hung on my bathroom mirror.


I stroll the promenade of my dreamscape,
Inebriated with the freedom
Of the Unconscious,
In search of a new DO, RE-DO. FOO-FOO,
In lieu of life-as-I-know-it.

Wild Spirit calls “Can you do the loosey goosey spirit walk with me?
It goes like this:

You put your right hip in
You put your right hip out,
You put your right hip in
And you shake it all about.
You do the hokey-pokey
And you turn yourself around,
That’s what it’s all about!”

“What will it cost me, ” I ask.
“Nothing.  Everything.
But you have to be All loosey goosey.”
“I’m in.”

© rita h kowats 2013

ADDENDUM:  December 18, 2013

You will have to walk on the wild side to believe this.  I got my hair cut today by a new student, a delightful young man.  We had such a good time that I decided to tell him this dream.  After the telling he revealed that his surname is DeWilde.  Honestly.  As in untamed, wild, uncivilized.  We agreed that he should someday open his own salon, the Walk on DeWilde Side Salon.  No, I don’t look like the Girl with the Dragon Tatoo!

I sit here in awe of the synchronicities of life that teach us so much.