A note from Karlton Terry . . .
Permit me to clarify the title of
this course. The "TAOS Embodiment Course," consisting of four annual
classes, is so named because of an event that occurred in Northern New Mexico
in a remote setting somewhere near the center of "The Land of Enchantment."
This area is proximal to the Taos Pueblo tribal lands and the certifiably magical
and sometimes ominous Taos Mountain. Seven years ago, sweating and shivering
alone in a tent in the woods near the desert, a convergence of information and
experience relieved me of a dim but persistent craving. Up to that moment, for
about a dozen years I had indulged the luxury of chasing my own tail looking
for the meaning of life, the purpose of my life. Why did I come here? Who am
I? Why all this pain, suffering and injustice? Why all this bliss, ecstasy and
poetry? In some ways I had come to a dead end.
I started this Journey of trying to figure out where I had come from by assuming
that if I went back as far as I could and followed myself forward I might find
the things that shaped me and therefore find myself. Ending up somewhat outside
of my own postulation, I explored my crazy, colorful family tree, well preserved
by the Mormons of Utah. I interrogated my parents, and to my poor mother's dismay,
peppered her with unending questions about my birth and her pregnancy (i.e.:
my prenatal life). Relentlessly, I pursued details until finally she was driven
off with too many questions and the possibilities of blame or accusation, for,
all of my personal curses, blindnesses, and suffering, it seems, sprouted during
the process of my own arriving into this earthly realm. I developed a rather
dogmatic opinion that things were just fine before I got here. Wherever it was
I came from, it was surely the woundings from the trip here that shaped me.
Now, these shaping experiences are they choices the soul makes or is everything
just totally random? Or is it something completely different altogether?
My poor fetal cranium, an inch larger in diameter than my mother's pelvic outlet,
was crushed and tortured as I was ignobly squeezed into this world, while my
mom, too young and innocent to know what was happening to herself, had no inkling
whatsoever of my plight. Within seconds of what my parents considered my emergence
on earth I transformed a happy carefree girl into a bag-eyed beleaguered matron
and have cursed myself ever since. Did we bond though in some prenatal delirium
of joy together, or some anxiety? I never asked her if she felt me kicking though
I know now she did.
During subsequent self-exploration, while I was doing a rather good job of impersonating
a 30 year old businessman, my first birth regression with William Emerson had
a substantial impact on my self-seeking trajectory. Although at the time I was
suspicious whether a "birth regression" was possible, what happened
was so profound that my heart felt crushed for an hour, and my head ached for
two. Worst of all, my vision was blurry for a week as if I was seeing the world
through amniotic fluid. After a relieving visit to my eye doctor I happily left
with a new set of world-clarifying contact lenses. It seems, to his gogofying
amazement, that my vision had somehow reversed to something nearly twice as
good as it had been when I first consulted him five years earlier. His own eyes
pleaded for an explanation, which I could not easily produce given the unbelievability
of the truth. Something had happened.
Inspired, I continued to research my birth with William, regressed to sperm
and egg with Graham Farrant, went to psychologists for talking therapy, a licensed
social worker for Grof style holotropic breath work, read Freud and Jung, studied
Maria-Louise Von Franz's ideas about dreams, fairy tales, and archetypes. I
went to acupuncture, meditation, Rolfing, massage, and vegetarianism. I delved
deep into the myths of creation and the sacred stories of the Native Americans
of the Great Southwest. Images and energies penetrated my psyche and wove through
my systems: celestial suns and moons, spirits, multi-armed Hindu gods, giant
sperm, Hopi dancers with rattlesnakes in their mouths, ant people, fetuses,
adult-sized babies, and my poor alienated mother. Then suddenly all of the brilliant
analytic depth of psychology and analysis, the fantasy images of archetypes,
and the contracts, mortgages and bank accounts of my day to day life became
clutter--an impediment to me finding myself. Fasting like a monk alone in my
tent I encountered something. At first she appeared to me as if I were having
a hallucination of my female self. Then, abandoning visual language, he spoke
to me imparting something so profound that it shook me to the bones. I have
no idea what he said, for, one second later I forgot. Now I know it was probably
the answer to a prayer I had been chanting, like a mantra, for two years, "What
is my purpose? Why did I come here?" Finally, there was a momentary but
eternal-feeling dissolution of my self, as I knew it. And there was my soul:
invisible, hewn, dense, completely filling me, inside me, looking at me from
without, slightly larger than me and absolutely completely connected to everything
everywhere including emptiness and nothingness.
A week or so later I found myself, I don't know how, somewhere back in my normal
life thinking, "Gee, if my birth had something to do with how my life is,
and if my prenatal experiences were perhaps even more profound, then maybe my
own conception (with those odd, haploid gametes meeting in the miraculous way
they do) is a bridge to the real place I really came from. Maybe I could remember
why I came, find out who I am. Maybe conception is something like a portal,
a window to the other world, a place where the wall between the worlds is thin.
And perhaps, dispossessed of earth's gravity, I can pass like a grain of sand
moving back and forth through the waist of an hourglass. Yes, this is the magic
mirror, the wishing well
"
The funny thing is, it was all true. I felt like I had cracked the code, for
myself anyway, and discovered the door to the spirit world. I had learned how
to reach through something and really shake hands with my soul. Can you imagine
me trying to explain this, wide-eyed and enthusiastic, to my father who is atheist,
skeptical, and scientific by nature and vocation? Out of gratitude to him I
must explain that I became compelled to research the known scientific facts
about conception, the sperm journey, the egg journey, the pronuclear envelope
which forms around the genes in the cytoplasm of the egg, syngamy, epistasis,
and everything else I could find. I began doing more sacred personal research
(regressions) to this territory, and indeed, for me, the walls between the scientific
normal human world, and the sacred personal soulful world, did become thinner
and thinner. My own clients began asking for more and more advice as to earlier
and earlier regressive stages. I started seeing the journeys of the gametes
acted out everywhere in everyday life. The cutting edge of scientific research
(funded nowadays most heavily by IVF investigations) began to inform the search
for the soul, and for me at least, vice-versa.
Finally, it all came clumsily together in the year 2000 when I had the courage
to write my little book on the five stages of the sperm journey, and in 2001
when I conducted the inaugural TAOS Embodiment Class. Since then I have researched
the annuls of science, the catacombs of the psyche, and the world of the soul
with a view to sharing structures which might assist others to explore their
own pathways to their own souls
so individual and diverse. If I can do
a good job, then perhaps the web along which others may explore will be unimpeded
by directivity or induction, expectations or projections. And this is the purpose
of the TAOS Embodiment Course which consists of four annual classes: 1) The
Sperm Journey; 2) The Egg Journey; 3) The Miracle of Conception; and 4) Syncronistic
Field of the Soul at Conception.