Cold Water Rebirth

A small primer: Rebirthing is a breath process. In its classic "clinical" setting it's done in three stages. 1) ten open air sessions with a male or female but not both 2) followed by one hot tub session 3) followed by ten with the other bonding gender 4) followed by a cold water rebirth. There is more than one participant on hand at the two water rebirths.

At my first cold water Rebirth "Allow" was the overall atmosphere of the work shop. One pursued to the depth of their choice. There were several dozen attending. I was accompanied by three seasoned Rebirthers and the water was in a hotel tub, filled with buckets of ice cubes from the machine in the hall. Water, of course, was floating the ice.

As I lowered my naked body into the icy water my awareness opened to a holographic experience. I simultaneously saw my guides as if I was looking out from eyes in my upper back, the ice water beneath me with my physical eyes like being in another world, and through the eyes of an Alaskan Inuit pitching head first into the Arctic waters. I felt feelings of having committed suicide as this person in a past life. There were no other offerings, there was no me, there was no reasoning. Only mindless fear of death and the cold and the momentum of determined commitment to do this filled my awareness. I was open to reasons for being afraid but saw nothing. I was doing this and no one was pushing me.

Later, as I sat in the conference room on the floor, remembering how resistant I was from the beginning to attend this Loving Relationship Training workshop, this poem came to me. It's a lot lighter than the image of the cold water rebirthing.

Anxious about the cold,
And I feel really old
On death I must be sold
“lets get it over with!”

Cold water freaks me out
I’m really not that stout
Makes me want to shout
“Lets get it over with!”

Angry fighting feelings
My head is set to reeling
Fearful breath is fleeting
“Lets get it over with!”

Ease into the water
Leave is what I oughta
The scream is getting louder
“Lets get it over with!”

Out of water, into the air
Its colder still over there
Fearless now “in the pink”
I feel a glow… and not a care.

Most of all, I cleared a LOT of fear that weekend.

Three Days Out

I’d been on the road three days, thumbing my way from Eugene, Oregon. My ride, a couple in an RV camper bus let me out as they turned off the Interstate, heading North on US 191 in Arizona. It wasn't the end of the earth but you could see it from there.

I hadn't eaten since I came across wild blackberries next to a cool creek running near the highway somewhere in Northern California. I'd stuffed myself but that was two days past. I was as hungry as ever, standing there in the Arizona desert.

There wasn't a building in sight and traffic lent new meaning to the word minimal. So, as was my habit and desire, I walked.

In the years between 1971 and 1976 I put more than fifty thousand miles on my thumb and the day of the week was far from my mind. That said… it felt like Sunday afternoon.

My destination was Melbourne, Florida, more than two thousand miles and at least three more days even if I flew like the wind. And honestly, I really couldn't have cared less about that either.

Seriously humid Melbourne, with its "fishing village" ambience, was home base, more or less. It had been my starting point and I had turned around at Eugene.

The desert Southwest is a strange place with even stranger weather. On visits to the high mountain deserts in Colorado I've seen rain appearing to fall up, likely due to wind, unfelt from my vantage point. This day in Arizona was no less strange. As I walked along this lonely stretch of asphalt I mused under a cloudless azure sky. The sun was burning at my back, bringing drops of sweat to the skin. On the shaded side, cold constantly pressed me. It was winter in America but at the edge of nowhere it was all seasons at once. To add mystery, rain fell in large drops widely spaced; hitting like pebbles against my face. But truth be told, I was happy and felt the freedom of no hurry, no worry, no tightness in my gut from unfulfilled obligations. Like the Roger Miller song "King of the Road."

I was hungry though.

I walked about 5 miles, a few cars whizzed by on their way to a future ahead of mine. Then, without thinking, I stopped to feel the distance I could only guess at looking across the desert at the mountains toward the North. As I stood in
contemplation of the moment my attention was slowly drawn down to a shiny black object, incongruous in the red dirt and scrabble. Analytical thought snapped my focus to a sharpened point. Incredible! I was looking at an a-frame styled lady's black patent leather handbag, about the size of a large lunch box. It sported a short strap. I walked the five steps to it, lifted and opened it as I realized it carried no dust on its sides. There was no sign of wear or damage and I thought, "It's brand new and probably empty." That thought was followed with the view of a bag full of lady's personal items and accouterment.

I rifled it and discovered what I sought most: Chewing gum, a large package with nearly ten sticks of Wrigley’s spearmint. Yea! Food!

There was a wallet with eleven dollars and some silver and identification. The cards and notes indicated the bag's owner to be an artist in good standing with art guilds and women's social clubs.

I was glad for the gum but I felt her loss as if it was my own. I had no idea how I would return it to her. I've lost wallets. It was always traumatic but even after long waits I've retrieved them, often through the kindness of others.

I walked a bit further and soon had a ride with an old man in a pickup truck. He said he'd drop me at a truck stop where he was to turn off into the desert to his home.

At the truck stop I gobbled up eleven dollars worth of Mexican style food (umm good) and handed the bag to the cashier. She said she would pass it to the sheriff and he would see she got it back. I walked out the door, stuck my thumb out and my next ride took me all the way to Melbourne. That part of the journey is a stranger story still.

Post Script

What might you take from this as valuable to yourself? I suggest considering that faith in the belief that you are cared for and watched over by what you consider a Higher Power will put you in the right place at the right time. Every moment of every day of your life choices are made. Choices made in alignment with the greatest good for all that is will ultimate lead to your satisfaction.