I'm releasing songs and audio work from the soundtrack
"A Spell to Re-Genius Yourself
for the revised and expanded edition of my book,
PRONOIA Is the Antidote for Paranoia. (How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings) by Rob Brenzey
This piece is called "A Spell to Re-Genius Yourself."
You can find it on page 80 of the book.
If you have any trouble downloading this mp3, go HERE and right-click the downward-facing arrow. On a Mac, click the mouse on the arrow as you press "Control."
Here are the lyrics:
Although we are all born geniuses, the grind of day-to-day living tends to de-genius us. That's the bad news. The good news is that you have the power to re-genius yourself.
I'm going to give you a ritual you can use to jump-start the process.
Please face south, leap up in the air, and say these words: "From the south, I purify, electrify, beautify, and fructify this sacred space."
When I was a kid I used to love to go out in the middle of a meadow and whirl around in spirals until I got so dizzy I fell down. As I lay on the ground, the earth and sky and sun kept reeling madly, and I was no longer just a pinpoint of awareness lodged inside my body, but rather I was an ecstatically undulating swirl in the kaleidoscopic web of life. I invite you to feel that way right now.
Spin yourself around until you topple over. And while lying on the ground, face west and say these words: "From the west, I sanctify, unify, clarify, and intensify this sacred space."
The people I trust the most are those who are always tenderly wrestling and negotiating with their own shadows, making preemptive strikes on their personal share of the world's evil, fighting the good fight to keep from spewing their darkness on those around them. I aspire to be like that, which is why I regularly kick my own ass. Will you try that right now wherever you are?
Jump off the ground and snap your heels up against your butt. Then face north and say these words: "From the north, I immunize, psychoanalyze, satirize, and exorcise this sacred space."
In one sense each of us is an intriguing, intricately unique individual, justifiably proud of and in love with our own personal story. In another sense, we are all one body, descended from the same primordial mother and made of identical stuff -- the calcium in all of our bones and the iron in all of our blood originally forged in a red giant star that died billions of years ago.
Rotating slowly in a clockwise direction, look down at your belly as you imagine that at this moment, everyone in the world is breathing along with you. Then face east and say this: "From the east, I lubricate, pollinate, consecrate, and emancipate this sacred space."
Gaze upward and stretch your arms out high. Say the following: "I am a genius."
And say this: "I am a lucky, plucky genius."
And say this: "I am a lucky, plucky, good-sucking genius."
You came into this world as a radiant bundle of exuberant riddles. You slipped into this dimension as a shimmering burst of spiral hallelujahs. You blasted into this realm as a lush explosion of ecstatic gratitude. And it is your birthright to fulfill those promises.
I'm not pandering to your egotism by telling you these things. When I say, "Be yourself," I don't mean you should be the self that wants to win every game and use up every resource and stand alone at the end of time on top of a Mt. Everest-sized pile of pretty garbage.
When I say, "Be yourself," I mean the self that says "Thank you!" to the wild irises and the windy rain and the people who grow your food.
When I say, "Be yourself," I mean the rebel creator who's longing to make the whole universe your home and sanctuary.
When I say, "Be yourself," I mean the dissident bodhisattva who's joyfully struggling to germinate the seeds of divine love that are packed inside every moment.
When I say, "Be yourself," I mean the spiritual freedom fighter who's scrambling and finagling and conspiring to relieve your fellow messiahs from their suffering and shower them with rowdy blessings.
Squat. While patting and massaging the ground or floor in front of you, say this: "I am insane."
And say this: "I am an insane hurricane."
And say this: "I am a highly trained, entertainingly insane hurricane."
You are too crazy smart to lust after the stupidest secrets of the game of life. You're too seriously delirious to wander sobbing through the sterile, perfumed labyrinth looking in vain for the most ultra-perfect mirror. Thank the Goddess that you are a fiercely tender throb of sublimely berserk abracadabra.
You will never get crammed in a neat little niche in the middle of the road at the end of a nightmare.
You refuse to allow your soul's bones to get ground down into dust and used to fertilize the killing fields that proudly dot the ice cream empire of monumentally demeaning luxuries.
You're too brilliantly cracked for that.
You're too ingeniously whacked.
You're too ineffably godsmacked.
"What you can do or think you can do, begin it. For boldness has magic, power, and genius in it.”+
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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