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Until recently, I thought new age temptation was something I’d left behind completely.
Then there was a night last weekend when I couldn't sleep. And for some reason, I decided to turn to a guided “brain wave meditation” for comfort. This was a meditation I was very familiar with. One that had lulled me to sleep many times when I was deeply involved in the new age.
The meditation itself was expertly produced and there was a seductiveness to it that I welcomed. I listened to it three times over before I fell asleep.
The next day, however, I didn't really feel rested - instead I felt down and kind of off. So I decided to listen to some other meditations on the same YouTube channel. All of which were produced by the same “brain wave” company). Just to see if there was something I had missed.
As I listened to these meditations, I noticed that many of the vibrations and background tracks were unusually deep in pitch. And, underneath the pleasant voice over, I sensed an underlying darkness. It felt malevolent.
I unsubscribed from the "brain wave meditation" YouTube channel and began to think about what had happened. The more I thought about it the more certain I felt. The meditations were dark and I had embraced it.
The fact that this had happened to someone who was well acquainted with the spiritual dangers of the new age – was sobering. And it gave me a new appreciation of the threat this stuff can pose.
And there is a lot of this kind of content. On YouTube and elsewhere.
New Age in the Mainstream
Sometimes it seems like the new age is everywhere.
A professional organization to which I belong, the American Holistic Nurses Association, promotes numerous new age modalities.
The first tier of meditations on my FitBit app are by Deepak Chopra.
Popular health and wellness resources focus on new age, Eastern and even occult practices.
YouTube searches for wellness or relaxation or related topics almost always return a host of new age results.
So it’s no surprise really that people consume new age and occult content. Unfortunately, for some this content will serve as a gateway to even deeper involvement in the occult.
I know this because I was of those people. And – as it turns out – still have the protentional to repeat the same mistake.
Even though I know that the new age and occult doesn’t actually offer anything. Even though I know that ts guidance is circular, its peace is an illusion, and its tenants are false.
The Good News
The good news is that there are Catholic and Catholic friendly alternatives to everything the new age offers. And - unlike new age and occult practices - these alternatives actually work.
Thinking about all of this this week made me realize that it is important to keep posting on this topic here. I also decided that I want to talk about it on YouTube.
I will be sharing all of my upcoming videos here (and on my BarbaraGraver.com site) but you can also check them out on my YouTube channel too at YouTube.com/c/BarbaraGraver).
And if you can please subscribe!
I've been having some studio issues this week but I hope to get my first video up by the weekend!
Vision is a German film that chronicles the life of the 12th century Christian mystic St. Hildegard von Bingen. The film begins with her early childhood and covers all of the known major events of her adult life. It is subtitled but moves at a readable pace.
St. Hildegard von Bingen was not only a visionary. She was also a gifted healer, a painter, religious leader, poet, and composer. One of the things I especially liked about Vision was the beautiful sound track based on St. Hildegard's own compositions. I was less impressed with emphasis on the saints personal relationships.
Not that I doubt that she had them or suffered at times with them, as do we all. But, to me, she is so much more than that.
St. Hildegard's Visions
According to multiple sources, including Barbara Newman, author of Voice of the Living Light: St. Hildegard of Bingen and Her World, St. Hildegard experienced (and recorded) a series mystical visions that she had been having since childhood. These writings describe a brilliant light pouring down from heaven, which the saint referred to as "the living light."
Because angels appeared to St. Hildegard in her visions, she gave a lot of thought to the relationship between angels and man. The saint foresaw an apocalyptic future giving way to a new heaven and a new earth as described in the book of Revelation.
Direct translations of St. Hildegard's visions may be found in Hildegard von Bingen's Mystical Visions which I have not read. But hope to read soon.
St. Hildegard attributed most of her accomplishments (including her incredibly beautiful musical compositions) to her visionary experience. But she remained modest throughout her life, giving all glory and honor to God as shown in the following letter to another religious leader:
A wind blew from a high mountain and, as it passed over ornamented castles and towers, it put into motion a small feather which had no ability of its own to fly but received its movement entirely from the wind. Surely the almighty God arranged this to show what the Divine could achieve through a creature that had no hope of achieving anything by itself. ~ St. Hildegard's letter to Abbot Philip
St. Hildegard and Holistic Wellness
St. Hildegard believed in a strong connection between body and soul and regarded physical disturbance as a sign of a deeper imbalance. Her pharmacopoeia, The Physica (Hildegard von Bingen's Physica: The Complete English Translation of Her Classic Work on Health and Healing) discusses the specific medicinal qualities of plants, elements, living creatures and metals.
The Physica does mention the use of crystals which (as an ex new ager) I do not recommend. It is worth noting, however, that St. Hildegard seemed to be attempting to utilize the mineral (rather than the magical) qualities of the stones. In many instances she placed the recommended stones directly against the skin or asked the patient to hold them in their mouth.
To me, fact that the Physica must be read critically (like all historical medical treatises) doesn't detract from its value. As one of the three female doctors of the Catholic Church, St. Hildegard's medical and visionary writings may be taken seriously.
To me, fact that the Physica must be read critically (like all historical medical treatises) doesn't detract from its value. As one of the three female doctors of the Catholic Church, St. Hildegard's medical and visionary writings may be taken seriously.
St. Hildegard's Legacy
Assuming a leadership position throughout her life, St. Hildegard served as magistra of the sisterhood at Disibodenberg and went on to found her own convent at Rupertberg in the face of great opposition. She was the author of the Physica three books of visions, numerous musical works and what many consider to be the first morality play.
Canonized after her death, St. Hildegard's progressive and holistic approach to the treatment of illness was far ahead of its time and an inspiration to anyone with an interest in holistic wellness.
Her many visions are thought provoking and well recorded.
Her delicate and haunting liturgical melodies speak directly to the heart. To me, their survival over these last 800 years is a remarkable testimony. I listen to them often. To me, they are more effective then any new age or Eastern meditation.
One of the things I love about St. Hildegard is that she reminds us our Catholic faith IS all encompassing. Thanks to St. Hildegard and other saints we are the recipients of both a rich mystical tradition and an approach to wellness that is well worth exploring.
Please note, the post includes Amazon affiliate links. This means that if you chose to purchase through Amazon I will earn a small commission at no cost to you.
There was a time when I was fascinated with cemeteries. When I was involved in the new age and occult, in fact, they were my favorite place for EVP investigation.
So it's not surprising really that while other people's Memorial Day trips to the cemetery were all about remembering their loved ones, my focus was on talking to spirits.
And sometimes, of course, they talked back.
New Age Memorial Day
There was one Memorial Day in particular when I visited the cemetery where my family was buried. I had the best of intentions. I'd even brought begonias to plant.
But before those begonias were even in the ground, I'd began to think about spirits.
I didn't have the recorder I liked to use for EVP investigation so I decided to take a picture and look for orbs. But when I pulled out my fully charged phone, it abruptly shut down.
I'd had the same experience exactly during EVP investigation. Except in that case my phone, which had been fine prior to the investigation, was ruined. So I was a little mad at myself for taking my current phone out of the car. Mad but not concerned. Because it was my belief then that nothing on "the other side" could possibly hurt me.
I tried to restart my phone with no luck at all. So I decided to leave and check my phone again a few miles down the road.
Driving away, I felt the a presence with me in the car. It wasn't a peaceful presence. Instead it felt jangly and kind of hyper. I had the sense that there were multiple spirits present. There was a giddy kind of energy that didn't seem entirely benign.
But in line with my new age beliefs, I pushed my sense of unease aside, and decided to ask whatever was there for guidance. Thinking the spirits I sensed might be deceased family members, I told them about whatever new age or occult idea was currently percolated and waited for a response.
A few moments later, my phone finally turned back on. I plugged in the auxiliary cable and started to listen to the audio book I'd played on my way to the cemetery but all I heard was static. In between the bursts of interference I heard the word 'path.' Thinking of my question, I decided that word as a go.
Because everything, when it came to the new age, was always a go.
Back to the Cemetery
The first rule: in persons who are going from mortal sin to mortal sin, the enemy is ordinarily accustomed to propose apparent pleasures to them, leading them to imagine sensual delights and pleasures in order to hold them more and make them grow in their vices and sins. - The Rules of St. Ignatius
Since my phone was now working, I turned the car around and went back to the graveyard to try to capture some orbs. A part of me was hoping to receive more information from the demons I believed to be the human spirits.
By the time I got back to the cemetery the spirits were no longer talking (which I think goes to show that it is not REALLY the location but what we are hoping to find there). So I took a few photos and left. On the way home, my audio book played clearly through the stereo speakers. My phone continued to function.
I don't even remember now, what new occult plan I had asked the demonic spirits I had met that day about. But whatever it was I'm quite sure I went ahead with it.
It never occurred to me then that the spirits who spoke to me might be working against me. Even though the so-called guidance I received over and over during my years in the new age only served to lead me in circles.
Just as St. Ignatius said.
May God protect us all from such influence!
I love the old gospel classic "Ain't No Grave."
You may have noticed that this version of the song credits two song writers. This is because Molly Skaggs (daughter of bluegrass great Ricky Skaggs) added some of her own lyrics to the original Claude Ely gospel classic.
Ely was a songwriter and preacher from Virginia. He wrote "Ain't No Graver" in 1934 when he was sick with tuberculosis. According to Ely, who was twelve at the time, his family was praying for healing and he sang the song on the spot. Having heard that kind of prayer and written a few poems in my day, I believe him.
Years later Molly Skaggs added some of her own lyrics and made the song her own. I love Molly's lyrics and her performance. Which is why the lyrics I quote in the sidebar are hers:
Oh, shame is a prison as cruel as a grave. Shame is a robber and he's come to take my name. Oh, love is my redeemer, lifting me up from the ground. Love is the power when my freedom song is found... - Molly Skaggs "Ain't No Grave"
I'm also partial to this part:
Oh, fear is a liar with a smooth and velvet tongue. Fear is a tyrant, he's always telling me to run. Oh, love is a resurrection and love is a trumpet sound. Love is my weapon, I'm gonna take my giants down. - Molly Skaggs "Ain't No Grave"
But I love the original Claude Ely lyrics too because they are the heart and soul of the song. So I've included them below:
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
When I hear that trumpet sound
I'm gonna rise right out of the ground
Ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
Well, I look way down the river
What do you think I see?
I see a band of angels
And they're coming after me
Ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
Well, look down yonder, Gabriel
Put your feet on the land and sea
But Gabriel, don't you blow your trumpet
Till you hear from me
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
Ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
Well, meet me, Jesus, meet me
Meet me in the middle of the air
And if these wings don't fail me
I will meet you anywhere
Ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
Well, meet me, mother and father
Meet me down the river road
And mama, you know that I'll be there
When I check in my load
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Can hold my body down.
Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given the early rain for our vindication; he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before. “The threshing floors shall be full of grain; the vats shall overflow with wine and oil. I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten... - Joel 2:23-25
Joel 2:23-25 talks about the restoration of the land after four years of failed harvest. And harvest is a theme for me.
We reap what we sow. Later than we sow. And pound for pound there is always more of what we harvest than there was of what we planted.
So we sow good and we get better. We plant little and get nothing.
Or we sow the wrong things. The bitter things. The things we meant to bury.
A law of nature. Not good or bad. But only reliable.
The laws of the harvest are the laws of life. But the promise of the harvest is of God. And his promise stands.
There will always be another harvest.
So today I pray for that future harvest, the one that I believe in even when I cannot see it.
This is the herb garden (okay life) of my dreams. I know the foreground is actually a lavender field but I do think I spy a small herb or vegetable garden on the right, near the chateau!
This is my herb garden circa 2015. Yes it is modest and right now it is a mess. But I wanted to share this image AND a commitment to share more pics when it is as I imagine it will be later this summer.
This is my herb garden circa 2015. Yes it is modest and right now it is a mess. But I wanted to share this image AND a commitment to share more pics when it is as I imagine it will be later this summer.
When I started this blog I decided to include a few of my posts from my old blog. This is one of my favorites.
A Butterfly in Need
On Sunday I stopped at a convenience store so my son could use the ATM. After he got his cash he stood looking down at something on the sidewalk while the other shoppers rushed around him, some obviously annoyed.
When the coast was clear he came back to the car and said that there was a butterfly on the ground that seemed unable to fly.
Thinking that the butterfly was probably injured and that a convenience store sidewalk was a really awful place to die, I got out of the car to see what I could do.
The butterfly was big and beautiful and very yellow. He didn't seem to be injured or at least if he was we couldn't see how. But he there was no doubt that he was not about to fly. I watched him crawl around in circles for a moment, while the Sunday shoppers streamed back and forth, and then I put down my hand and let him crawl onto my palm. His little feet were gentle and soft.
Walking around to the side of the store we were surprised to see that someone had made a small landscaped garden in the area between the shop and the lot. So I put the butterfly down on a bush, even though he seemed as if he wanted to stay right there on my hand, and then we drove away.
Until We Meet Again
We drove the next few blocks to the 6th Street Flea Market wondering if the butterfly might have not been injured at all but simply new to life as a butterfly and not quite ready to take flight. I told my son about a cocoon I had kept as a child and how the moth emerged and sat for a long time on the edge of the open jar as if he didn't quite know what to do.
I had thought the moth was sick so I gave him bits of broken leaves to eat and a soda cap of water and laid down on the grass and waited. After what seemed like forever, he finally spread his wings and flew away, small and brown and sturdy against the bright blue summer sky.
Now, almost half a century later, my son and I couldn't help wondering if the big yellow butterfly might just have needed a bit of time to get his bearings. It was a breezy day and probably not the best time for a first attempt at flying. Or maybe he had been flying and got tossed about in the storm the night before.
Either way, we speculated, he might have remembered his old safe caterpillar life and decided to take a time out on the ground.
We arrived at our destination and got out of the car. At that very moment, a bright yellow butterfly came dipping and weaving across the windy parking lot. As he passed almost directly in front of us, I had the distinct impression that he was saying, "Look at me, I've got it."
My son and I exchanged a look. "I'd like to think that's our butterfly," he said.
"So would I," I said feeling surprisingly certain that it was. And I felt happy for the butterfly and happy for us.
I began to pull away from the new age and occult in May of 2017 and was almost immediately drawn toward Christianity. I was wary of returning to the Catholic Church and unsure about Christianity in general so I decided to ask God for a sign.
I prayed a lot that week and on Saturday, the 22nd of May, 2017, I prayed more.
The next day I went to the flea market as I did most Sundays. I had forgotten to stop at the ATM on the way and had only eight dollars on me, which was much less than I usually brought. But I didn't really care. It was raining - a slow steady kind of rain that promised to continue all day - and I didn't expect there would be many vendors or much of anything to buy.
When we pulled into the parking lot I saw that I was right about the vendors. The large open area that was usually full of tables and tents was practically empty. The few sellers who had set up were spread out and the gravel lot was full of puddles. But we decided to put on our slickers and see what we could find.
One of the first things I spotted was a chalkware Blessed Mother. For some reason I couldn't really explain, I'd been wanting one of those big old Mary statues for some time. Over the course of the last two summers I'd kept an eye out. But all those I'd seen were chipped or expensive or both.
The one in front of me that day was almost two feet tall and had no significant damage. So I was surprised when the woman on the other side of the table said it was mine for five dollars. It wasn't really my style but I liked the blue of Mary's cloak and the graceful curve of her neck. I bought it without any negotiation at all.
A little further on, I saw a cold cast bronze St. Brigid's cross that had been made in Ireland. I asked the vendor the price and he said a quarter. And then, when I couldn't find any change, he refused my dollar and insisted I take the cross for free. I was happy that I was able to tell the a bit about St. Brigid and what she had done so long ago in Ireland. And I started to get a good feeling about the day.
The next thing I saw was a bright silver crucifix shining through the rain, When I got close I could see that it had a glass holy water font and a place on either side of the cross for candles. I thought that the seller would probably want at least ten dollars for such a nice item but she didn't. She wanted three. So I got the crucifix too.
On the long damp ride home, I realized that I had bought three Christian items that had all been meaningful to me at one point in my life. I understood that I had gotten them all on an unlikely day and for a surprisingly good price. But what struck me most was that I had bought them for the exact amount of money that I had with me.
So I considered it sign. And decided that I should give Christianity another shot.
I started with a church tour of several local churches and ended up at a evangelical church that was not a good fit and then at a second liked better. I didn't spend any real time thinking about the Catholic church I had visited in the early days of the church tour or the fact that each of the items I bought that day at the fleas market were Catholic in origin.
Except that now, almost three years later, I am.
It began with car problems. Getting to the new Protestant church was impossible. Finally, after several weeks, it occurred to me that there were two churches within a short walk of my house and that one was actually just a block and a half away.
So I walked down the street and went to mass for the first time in what seemed like forever. And the next week I went back. And then, because I wanted to receive communion, I went to confession.
Over the next few weeks I thought about the spiritual journey I'd made and the enormous circle that has brought me back to a place that is, and always was, just around the corner.
The items I bought that day at the flea market are gone and I know that there is some kind of lesson in that. And while I'm not sure exactly what that is, I think that it might be that God doesn't want me to be the kind of Catholic I used to be. Or the kind of person I used to be.
Maybe he wants me to be something new.
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| My rainy day flea market Mary |
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| Another flea market Mary that I have kind of sadly given away |
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| St. John's complete with spires |
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