When Lightworking Isn’t Enough
Yeah, I said it.
First off, what the hell is Lightworking? Lightworking is considered a New Age concept and involves engaging meaningfully in positively transforming, expanding, and/or uplifting work where the intent is to better the universal consciousness through service. It entails a lot of clarifying of intention as well thoughts in general, consciously directing one’s energies and actions in a positive manner, and, well, some kind of non-sarcastic faith in something greater than yourself.
[For some really interesting and practical articles, see Steve Pavlina’s stuff online, or check out anything written by Doreen Virtue, Ph.D, or alternately you could sashay your hipster ass to your local bookstore and just kinda bumble around in the New Age section while trying to not let people see you, lest they think you hold out some kind of really uncool, totally non-ironic hope for humanity.
In truth, what we now refer to as Lightworking has been around for aeons. Case in point — neolithic peoples had shamans whose main responsibility was to connect the rest of the tribe to the Unseen Worlds for the higher and greater good of all. Why, even many longstanding organized mainstream religions contain elements of Lightwork. Imagine that. Lightworking can also be viewed simply as trying to act in a manner true to one’s essential nature as a being born of inherent divinity, light and good.
Betcha thought I was going to talk about “fuckery” and “kicking Dr. Phil’s ass” today, dintcha?
Ole Dr. Dingge E. Dingg likes to mix it up. I think I’m going to do a few Drunken Monkey kung-fu moves just to celebrate. That’s better.
Sometimes Lightworkers get into trouble when they encounter beings of, shall we say, less than such singular or positive intention. Such beings include: mean people, unspeakable monsters* and their ilk, overweening narcissists, psychopaths, sociopaths, and anything with the word “douche” or “asshat” attached. I think that about covers it.
My saintly old Gradual School advisor once told me “Ding, sometimes it’s really important to know how to intimidate people.” This, of course, freaked my lil pie-eyed, idealistic Universal Caretaker self right out and right into some excessively chunky shoes, a sweater vest that I won’t admit to owning but rather borrowing, a carton of mentholated Marboros, and this haircut, but that’s a story for another day.
I’ve met a lot of lightworking folk in the last year who could use a dose of protection from the Dark Side Of The Force’s minions. Luckily I’ve got Evil Manservant Jeebes to fight my battles for me. And if you’ll recall, EMJ is actually mostly all about this. If you’re too lazy to click, here I am quoting my own vainglorious ass in all its vain and assy glory.
Everyone should have an Evil Manservant. Either that, or everyone should personify all undesirable aspects of his/her psyche into a sneering, awkwardly formal yet diabolical valet.
Words to live by, people. Words to live by.
By now I’m sure you’re asking yourself What the hell is Dr. Ding on about? Or maybe Is she smoking the crack cocaines? Maybe she really is a lucite-heeled poledancer down at the biweekly Sons of Hermann Krackenkokainefest after all? Huh.
So stay tuned for our next exciting episode, where all shall be revealed. Next up: Self Improvement DIY: How To Make Your Very Own Intrapsychic Sith Lord For Fun And Profit.
*Cthulhu, mostly. I gotta admit, the rest of them have their moments.
I’m On Vacation, Bitches
Dr. Ding is enjoying the Arctic temperatures of the veryfine Lincoln, NE. Yesterday it was fawty degrees outside. I loved it. It stirs my Midwestern blood, made phlegmatic from the sultry southern stylings of Houston weather.
Last night my posse and I paid homage to The Bel-Airs at the infamous Zoo Bar. Shari got the Bel-Airs to give Dr. Ding a shout-out in the form of the song “Sugar Mama” (which in my head is of course spelled Sugar Momma). It was HOT. Gail and I two-stepped like a house afire, and I shook my sweet fancy ass all night long. Well, I shook it until about 11:50, when we left b/c Shari had to get up early to do a fundraiser. We are, after all, mature and classy broads with social obligations beyond mere rumpshaking and the frequent shouting of the phrase “Sang it, baby! Who’s ya mama!” at well-timed intervals. But Oh what a time we had.
I’ll post pics later, if I can be bothered.
I’m on vacation, bitches.
Now if you’ll buhscuse me, Dr. Ding got some sashay latte to drink, some more Doritoes to consume di-reckly out of the bag, and a pilgrimage to ShopKo to undertake whereupon I will commence to purchasing some very reasonably priced casual clothing. Very busy here.
Introducing Dr. Kat
Dr. Ding is proud to introduce to you, my loyal readership, the inimitable Dr. Kathleen Halloran. Accept no substitutes!
Dr. Kat, as she prefers to be called, is in practice near Seattle, WA. She is a delightful person with a fiercely funny and mischievous sense of humor, who also happens to be a highly-trained naturopathic physician of immense talent, wisdom, and compassion.
Dr. Ding met Dr. Kat when they quite literally bumped into one another while attending a conference on spiritual and angelic healing methods in Laguna Beach, California. Dr. Ding, despite possessing catlike grace, occasionally steps directly on people. Big feet, you know.
Despite my podiatric ballet, we got to talking about our various doctorly experiences and theories and became fast friends. We may have even eaten some delicious Kobe beef burgers when we were supposed to be abstaining from meat that week, but I cannot verify this entirely, as I was having an out-of-body experience. Jeebus and Elvis say hi, by the way.
Dr. Kat is, as we say in the South, good people. She just is. She’s also amazingly versatile in the methodologies she employs to treat a wide variety of patients and clients. She fixed my chronically messed-up ankle simply by….well….I’m not exactly sure what she did, to tell you the truth. She basically “scanned” my body’s energy field and somehow tuned into my poor, delicate and very sylphlike ankle and well….I got better!
Prior to that, I’d been hobbling around like a drunken monkey, only with bigger feet. It would be a total understatement to say the healing was “cool” but golldang y’all, it was cool.
Click here to make an appointment. Dr. Kat offers telephone consultations and intuitive energy medicine for those of you not fortunate enough to live in the Seattle area. She’s frickin’ awesome.
Angel Tattoo
Minus the farmer’s tan, Dr. Ding feels that this angel tattoo might be an appropriate selection for her 40th birthday goal, which, of course is 2 years off. For those of you just tuning in, Dr. Ding is planning on getting a tattoo, quite possibly angelic, of some sort to commemorate her 40 years on the planet. For my 50th birthday I shall most likely start wearing a festive bumper sticker on the Dingmobile (much like the Batmobile, only done entirely in fuchsia-tinted glitter and synthetic leopard print) that says “Just Ask Me About My Evil Manservant.”
The Archangel Michael is featured here; out of all the angels mentioned prior to my retirement from Catholicism, Michael is by far the most real to me, and the easiest with which to identify, what with me being a jackbooted angel thug and all for the celestial Cosa Nostra. I joke, I joke!
Seriously, prior to my Retirement, I always really liked saying the St. Michael prayer after Mass because it felt very empowering and protective to invoke that kind of intense, warrior-like spiritual presence, and who couldn’t use a little bit of cosmic bodyguarding from time to time? One of the coolest, kick-ass Catholic prayers ever, the Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel goes a lil somethin like this:
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickeness and snares of the Devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray
And do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host,
By the Power of God,
Thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits
Who prowl about this world, seeking for the ruin of souls.
Or if you’re more inclined towards the Latin vulgate:
Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in praelio. Contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur. Tuque princeps militiae caelestis, Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo divina virtute in infernum detrude. Amen.
That poor ole devil. If you’ll look closely, you’ll see he ain’t got no pants on. Not even a carwash-style skirt like Mike! No wonder he gets vanquished all the [damn] time.
More interesting tattoo pics after the jump. Feel free to make suggestions for your favorite doctah in the Comments.