Archives: IQTuneUps

Here is an ancient story.

A mother seabird laid her eggs upon the beach. The ocean’s waves came and swept the eggs away. You might imagine how she felt.

The mother seabird asked the ocean to return her eggs. The ocean did not reply. The mother seabird said, “Very well then, I will dry you up.”

Having thus vowed, the mother seabird began her task by taking a beak of sand from the beach and dropping it into the ocean. Can you imagine how great was the task she faced?

She continued her efforts. She kept her vow relentlessly and one-pointedly without any other consideration for herself. You might be able to imagine her alone, in the twilight, doing this with no help whatsoever.

Soon, very soon, others noticed her efforts, and talk spread about her. As you may well imagine, every manner of comment was expressed, but the words of others do not concern us here.

After some time, news of the mother seabird’s efforts reached the king of all the birds. The king was huge, glorious and great beyond measure, as I am sure you have imagined already.

The king said, “I will go and help this mother.” After arriving at the seaside, the king said, “Give back the children to this mother.” You might imagine the depth of the silence in the world right after the king spoke this command to the ocean.

The ocean trembled, for even one small feather of the king could soak it up. Quickly the eggs were returned to the mother. I am sure you know how she felt as her wings once again enfolded them near to her now peaceful heart.

Ask yourself,Have I ever done anything to match this mother’s one-pointedness?

With its powerful waves of experiences, what has life’s ocean swept away from me? What might I do to get it back?

Does something right now mean this much to me? What have I done to find the precious, most lovable, “innocents” of my spirit?

Could I feel this way about ANY desire I had? Could I ever be THAT certain about how my future “should be?”

How does diligence, earnestness, and one-pointedness fit into my present lifestyle? Would my environment support me if I began to “get serious” about personal growth, conscious evolution, and spiritual integrity? What would it cost me to raise my dedication to inner work up another notch? How about ten notches?

What if I raised it up 100 notches? What king within me would respond to this intent?

What would happen if I absolutely meant something when I said it? How would I know it was absolute? Is there an absolute aspect of existence to which I could compare it?

Why am I so sure that the words “eternal”, “absolute”, “infinite”, “certain”, and “God” have meaning? What part of me knows this? Is this?

How do I enfold my soul with the wings of my heart?

Have a friend prepare a small assortment of foods with varying tastes. Have these foods in “pea sized” little bites. Close your eyes and allow your friend to put one pellet at a time into your mouth.

Chew and swallow and guess what the food was.

Ask yourself,What would happen to my enjoyment of food if I paid as much attention to each bite as I did just now?

How can I do “this” with my other senses-hearing, touching, seeing? What would be the equivalent of “closing my eyes” if I were to try to do this experiment with the sense of seeing?

Why do I so often mix eating within a “multi-media” environment of music, conversation, television, reading, etc.?

Would I eat more or less if I did this all the time?

Can I appreciate my tasting experience simultaneously within an environment with many sources of stimulus?

How was this intimacy with this friend compared to other experiences with this person?

What part of me liked this guessing contest? Can I enliven that aspect of life so that I am always exploring my sensory input with an increased inquisitiveness?

Are all of my experiences like pellets for which I must guess the meaning?

How much/often was my ego involved and how would this compare to the part of me that is simply aware of processes without adding interpretation onto the experiences?

How much more tolerant was I during this experience? Did I chew, taste and swallow foods I would normally avoid? How does this simple “overlay” allow me to get beyond personal dislikes?

How much more easily was I able to taste with my eyes closed?

What “eyes” would I have to close to maximize my appreciation of a “morsel of thought?” How would I do that?

Have I ever chewed on a concept like this?

Could I pray like this?

Create a list, as quickly as you possibly can in less than five minutes, of twenty things for which you are grateful.

Even if nothing very “large” comes to mind, list anything that you’re happy to have and would be worse off without.

Do this rapidly and try to list them in the order that they occur to you.

After the list is finished. Don’t add anything more. Just look at it and think about it with the questions below.

Ask yourself,Why did I forget certain things that only NOW come to my mind? Does this show an inner priority that is a dynamic of my personality, or is it merely an artifact of how my memory works?

If I can think of these things, even with so little time, so easily, why don’t I have more feelings of gratitude and a greater enjoyment of my daily bounties?

Is there a relationship between gratitude and my general emotional well being? When I’m depressed, is it even possible for me to count my blessings?

Does gratitude affect my physical well-being? What is the “energy cost” of a chronic lack of gratitude in my life? If I practice this exercise often, will I heal myself in various ways?

What effect would it have on my life if I had a habit of being grateful for even the smallest things?

When I put my attention on a concept as I have done in this exercise, and I see how I can generate a group of thoughts about a subject, what does this teach me about the power of directing my attention? What does it do to my sense of responsibility for my daily experiences?

When I consider all the possibilities I have for showing gratitude, how much of my day could I take up doing so? Do I have to “budget” how much mental energy, time and effort I allow myself to manifest gratitude, or can I find a way to have it as a “background” feature of existence?

When listening to your favorite new song being sung, determine the following things in this order:

Which parts of this song are my favorites?

What is my most favorite of these favorites?

What is my very most favorite part of this most favored part?

At what exact point on this song do I hit my most intense emotional peak of pleasure?

Listen to this part over and over again-repeatedly stopping the song and then “backing up” to hear only that “best part” until you are no longer enjoying it very much. Now listen to the whole song for the very first time after having “deadened” your emotional response to that “best” part.

Ask yourself,Why do I resist wanting to do this process? When, by the passage of time alone, this process would happen anyway, why is the mind’s attachment to this musical pleasure so deep that I would give up the satisfaction of experimenting with my emotions and intellectually discovering more about my psychological mechanisms?

Just how much of a sacrifice am I willing to make to understand my mind better? How much inner resistance am I willing to overcome?

Does this happen with other pleasures of life? Do all things ultimately fail to excite?

Is there ANY aspect of life that always “delivers?”

If I were to fall out a window on the tenth floor of a building, in the very first moment when I would know I was almost certain to die, what would I precisely want to protect? Certainly my last intent would not be to listen to this song one more time, so what would my intent actually be? What is the pure nature of this life I would cling to so desperately in that moment?

What one word best describes the meaning of the phrase “pure nature of this life?”

Pretend that you are the main character in a novel. Think about the kind of life “this person” has lived-your exact life told in a book.

Consider how the elements, events, sub-stories, plot, etc. that make up this novel-this person’s life-fit together and “make sense” from the point of view of an author who is writing this story.

From birth to now, consider how someone, as a reader, would feel about the “drama” of the book at this point.

Remember that the reader has had detailed, intimate views of all your emotions, motivations, philosophy, spirituality, unseen actions, etc.

Dwell on this for at least five minutes.

Ask yourself,If I were the author of my life, and I wanted to end this book with this character becoming absolutely happy and wise, what is the next step that I would write for this character that would not have my readers thinking I was untrue to the story so far?

How do I see to it that the next step is written that way?

What would be the absolute happiest state that I can get this character to achieve?

What could I accomplish if I had all the courage necessary to make big changes “over night”?

How good a “read” has this book been so far? Has this character been entertaining? Engrossing? Fascinating? Poignant? Compelling?

When I consider all the chance and coincidence in my life, the ways I’ve met people, the strong emotions coming “out of nowhere,” the spontaneous decisions, the surprising actions of others, etc., how is it that I still consider myself the author of my life? What is the core of this conviction of mine?

Considering all the books and movies I have experienced, how I am not shocked by all these characters who “sin”-by my definition of the word? How I can view lives vastly disparate from mine with a cool detachment? How is it that I get so involved in my own life? If I could actually feel the emotions and physical pain of the characters of the books and movies I experience, would I ever read or view again?

Is there any way that I can experience my life with at least “some” of the cool detachment I allow for other types of experiences?

Have I ever laughed aloud when I make a mistake, hurt myself physically, or gotten “badly” surprised? Can I, at least, surrender to the events of my life that have become “firmly” the past as if they were pages turned?

Do I always get at least some particle of wisdom, some maturation, and some growth of a sort from every single experience I have ever had?

Is it conceivable that my special viewpoint could have come to me in any other way? Was all that I have experienced absolutely necessary?

The next time you do not get something that you wanted-something that you expected to get-note your various stages of emotional reaction to it. Look upon the whole experience as if someone has injected you with a drug whose major effect is the production of an emotion called “disappointment.” Look at this drug experience as if it were equal to any other chemical reaction. Watch the onset, the main part and the gradual dissolution of the event as the “chemical wears off.”

When the larger part of the reaction has “settled down”, consider the questions below.

Ask yourself,Am I just a mess of psychochemicals that interact?

If the universe were declared by God to be perfect, how does this part of it make sense? What would I have to believe to see myself as perfect, but yet having disappointments?

What can I learn from this apparent lack?

Is there an opportunity here-a piece of good luck that only wants my clear noting of it to allow it to fully blossom?

Was this denial necessary for my psychological growth? What can I do to grow by anticipating my evolutionary needs, meeting them, and thus avoid the disappointments? Can I possibly imagine all that I need to accomplish, or is this already a “pretty good system?” Am I, in fact, already “enrolled” in a personality enhancement program?

Can I view my life like this, and see myself as beyond all this, a witness to this?

Given that my emotions and thoughts change constantly virtually unchecked by “me,” and given that my history proves that my future is completely unpredictable, to what do I cling to as properly being called “me?”

How does waking up in the morning compare to getting angry or some other mood? Is waking consciousness merely a state in which certain chemical reactions prevail?

Am I always in a “rush?” What would it feel like to not be a cauldron of activity?

After reading this, close your eyes and sit still for five minutes and notice how much more private life suddenly becomes.

Then, pay attention to your thoughts and indirectly note that your ears also close to the sounds in the room to some degree as your attention goes to inner experiences.

Then as you sit still, note how the part of you that feels bodily posture closes down its perceiving.

Finally, take a deep breath and let the air out of your lungs and stop breathing.

Now, in this state of mind and body….

Ask yourself,Who is speaking these words?

Whose voice is this I hear inside my head?

How are these words I am thinking being formed and by whom?

What would my mental voice sound like if I were to hear it on the radio?

What is the difference between putting my attention on my inner voice and putting my attention on my emotions? Which of these inner processes is the “real” me?

When I talk to myself, who is listening and who is talking? Which one of these am I during normal life activities?

Regardless of gender, pretend that the next person you see was your spouse in a previous lifetime. You were deeply in love, and now, here you are in completely unrelated lives without the slightest awareness of all that “once was,” only you have knowledge about this previous relationship, and you have absolute conviction that it did, in fact, happen.

Explore with your imagination this possibility and what such a belief might do to your relationship with this person who has “amnesia.”

Ask yourself,How would I behave towards this person, if I truly and deeply believed that this were true?

What can I do with this person now that reflects such a fantastic possibility and that is socially acceptable to me in this life with this personality?

How would this person react to proof that it were indeed the truth? Given this exercise’s premise and assuming my conviction that it is true, how can I be so certain of my predictions regarding this person’s reactions to “my truth” when my “vibe” and demeanor around this person would be so changed?

If I believed in such things as previous lifetimes, what would I believe to be the chances that the people around me are also friends and enemies I once knew?

If previous lifetimes are possible, how far back into time can I imagine them going? Can I go back far enough for virtually everyone on this earth to have once been a loved one of mine?

How does this imagining of a physical presence throughout time affect me emotionally? If the ultimate truth of reality is one that includes almost endless reincarnations that one is almost perfectly unaware of, so what? What if I actually once were Abraham Lincoln or Gandhi or, perhaps some arch villain? So what?

If I have a dream in which I, by my definition of the word, sin, what should the waking “me” do about the sin of the “dream me?”

When I consider the content of my dreams, the characters I have created, the “masks” I have worn, the heights and depths of morality, fear and spirituality I have played with, these entire universes created from “scratch,” have I been a god?

When I see someone I know and remember something about them, how do I know if that memory is true instead of something I once dreamed or an unsubstantiated belief I somehow have concocted? Why do I trust my memory?

How do I know that I am not a character in someone’s dream? What is my absolute proof?

If in a dream tonight, a dream character comes up to my dream character and asks, “Am I less real than you?” what would I like “my” dream character to say to that “other” dream character?

Relatively speaking, who’s more real: me, compared to a dream character that I believe is me during the dream, or the “real waking-state me” that is being created by the “creator of me?”

Arrange for a situation where you can tell someone you love him or her and really mean it deeply.

Just before you say the words, silently look into the person’s eyes for a minimum of ten full seconds. During this gazing do not try to have any “special” thoughts about the person or how much you love that person. NO THOUGHTS ALLOWED! Just look into that person’s eyes with the purest love radiating from your heart.

Then say, “I love you.”

Ask yourself,When is the last time I said, “I love you?” and meant it as much as this?

Is my love something that is expressed whether I say words of love or not? What really happened when I was gazing silently? Did something radiate? Did the other person benefit somehow? Was there any real transfer of anything between us?

When did I love this person more? During the silence or the speaking?

What would be the payoff if I loved a lot more persons with the above “silent method” but did not say the words?

Which of these ways mean more to me? Which of these ways seem deeper?

Which way is a more universal tool that can be used on anyone?

Why did I pick that person?

How many others could I have done this with? What would I be like if I could say, “I love you” to any person I meet?

If I were a perfect person, could I love everyone equally, parents, wife, children, strangers, enemies, God?

Are there different kinds of love, or is there one kind of love that manifests with varying symbolic forms and to varying degrees?

What is the difference between loving someone and “wanting to be very nice to them?”

Can I love purely if, just by chance, the person is of some use to me? Is love pure only when it is a “one-way-street?”

Can I love an enemy without forgiving or without dropping my guard?

The next time I am angry with the person that I have loved in this experiment, does that affect my love?

Can I love anyone more than I love myself?

Take a short poem that you like and memorize it.

Then before a mirror, learn to speak it aloud very dramatically-very, very dramatically.

Then, perform the poem for someone-very, very dramatically.

Ask yourself,What kinds of words would I use to describe my feelings during this process?

What other things can I do that I have never done before that gives me this same fulfillment?

Why is it that a simple task that almost anyone can perform gives me a feeling of accomplishment?

How did I “get” this value? Why do I think memorizing anything is an accomplishment of note?

How would I feel after performing the poem if someone then displayed a parrot that spoke the same poem even more dramatically than I had?

When I chose the poem, did I have some sort of payoff in mind? Did the poem define me in some way; was it a statement about a concept I hold dear or a feeling I have that I wanted to communicate?

What part of me likes to have a poem to recite? What is recitation to me?

Where is that poem now? How can I find it so effortlessly with a mere intent to do so? How much of this effortlessness do I “own?” Is this effortlessness the same quality I exhibit when I beat my heart or fill my lungs?

How often do I find myself mentally reciting the poem to myself?

When I work at building up a skill, does my ego get more attached to it as an accomplishment than, say, if I instantly “memorize” a joke someone told me and can repeat immediately afterwards?

How many poems could I memorize in the next year if I did nothing else?

Am I a poem?