Thursday, April 24, 2014

A spoonful of Thomas Moore, "natural magic", reading the tea leaves

Every once in awhile life, the path, what is lived as 'normal' is blocked, and good health goes on vacation. It happens for every one and is unique for each of us. Some days the changes and challenges are like the common brightly yellow painted speed bump we drive over them slowly or as quickly as we dare; we forge ahead. Other days there is no gas for the car to take us over the rise, and no energy within to attempt one more everyday. "Being without spoons" has been a way for me to describe and accept some of those days when energy both within me and in my vehicle of choice are absent. Have you ever noted, and counted the actual number and variety of literal spoons you have in your kitchen? Maybe on a day when you have little else pressing on my list, you might ... check your spoons.

It's a different sort of day today, lots of rest and walking around without glasses (because the new Progressive lenses are problematic) helped; not working at the computer helped more; and then filling the evening with two fun and funny movies pressed the joy buttons enough while I mixed and baked Spice Cake. Then this morning after a night of amazingly vivid dreams about old friends, houses divided and being in the flow I climbed out of the vardo and pulled up a radio broadcast from the program New Dimensions. Originally broadcast on Sunday, April 20, 2014 this is a conversation between co-founder of New Dimensions Justine Willis Toms and Thomas Moore.  Moore discussed his newest book A Religion of One's Own. 

Listening to this conversation was just the spoonful of common, or natural magic I needed to continue living life as makua o'o, a religion of my own. At one point late in the hour-long program Moore describes his practice of employing 'natural magic' in his personal religion. Moore told his audience about doing his doctoral studies and writing his dissertation, which focused on 'natural magic" of Renaissance Europe; a highly developed practice used throughout culture of that era which we have largely lost. Encouraing the use of techniques within the realm of 'natural magic' Moore said these practices "spark your imagination... and allow you to go to a place where you can explore things that you can't if you stay with your mind." As he described one of his magics, that of reading tea leaves, I felt the settling acceptance of times/days/periods/lifetimes when being without spoons is the natural-est thing in the world. A bee resting for a nanosecond in its incredibly busy life is perhaps, an equivalent to my day(s) without spoons.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Off-line and out of spoons

It's one of those raw and rough patches for me right now, with very few spoons to manage. Elephants have come to get me through and one of them is named Hannah. Author Diane Hammond has written a beautiful story Hannah's Dream, the sort of book that can draw the tears out of hiding and let the healing happen. If you click on the link above it will take you to a cache of reviews about this love story, view of life and aging, and the inseparable connection between beings. A hui hou, until next time.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

In the eddy or under the cowlick

"In fluid dynamics, an eddy is the swirling of a fluid and the reverse current created when the fluid flows past an obstacle. The moving fluid creates a space devoid of downstream-flowing fluid on the downstream side of the object." Wikipedia

A cowlick is a section of hair that stands straight up or lies at an angle that odds with the style in which the rest of an individual's hair is worn. Cowlicks appear when the growth direction of the hair forms a spiral pattern. The term "cowlick" originates from the domestic bovine's habit of licking its young, which results in a swirling pattern in the hair. The most common site of a human cowlick is in the crown, but they can show up anywhere. They also sometimes appear in the front and back of the head.[1] The term cowlick dates from the late 16th century, when Richard Haydocke used it in his translation of Lomazzo: "The lockes or plaine feakes of haire called cow-lickes, are made turning upwards." [2

The Full Moon and Lunar Eclipse earlier this morning happened behind cloudy skies as we slept. But no matter, the effects of the full illumination and momentary shadow created by the Sun's grandeur was felt none the less. The water and light within will rise to the surface whether we see it or now. My dreams have been deep and illuminated ones, shining on the patterns of old they do bring up the cowlicks in my psyche, the ones I kid myself about "Oh I'm so over that!" or hide under hats so no one sees the pattern. But of course, others see the cowlick, I am under the cowlick and the errant locks are out of my site not out of yours! The original post "What do you call a cowlick ... " I wrote continues to be one of this blog's favorites. The irony of that does not escape me.

The other day I sat for lunch with a friend. We'd brought our separate repasts: an omelet rolled and sliced making it handy finger food for me; cubes of what looked like beef with broccoli bits for my friend. Pete and I had driven up the island for a once-in-awhile appointment and this meet up was one of the add on benefits for the two hour drive. He dropped me off for my lunch chat, said hello to my friend and left us to my time. My friend is making some very big life changes, leaving a long-time pattern of being, doing and believing she is now making her way out. Over bites and swallows of omelet and beef bits we shared stories. At one point my friend said, "I'm in the eddy and not sure what ..." and I'm not quite sure of what she said exactly. What I heard was a friend describing what it's like to make new choices and break from the flow of a once satisfying and proper fit-for-her-life. Not fit at all on the afternoon we shared a lunch, I listened to her quandary. 

What I heard was a woman, mother and once-wife describe the wrestle with becoming a success in the world designed by man when it is the eddy of female that is asking her to wait and give birth to her woman-who-has-waited all those years. There were some bits of information that seemed timely to pass to her while we sat on the bench, she in her eddy, me a loving older woman who has fought my cowlicks or flailed in the swirl so many times! We talked about investing large sums of money into 'higher education' with the culture of debt an inevitable future. Was that the future she wished to commit to? What might you have learned through real-life as a pioneering off-the-grid mother of many, farmer, gardener and gatherer of people that could be the fertile ground for birthing the woman-in-the-eddy? I had a conversation weeks earlier with a practitioner with decades of experience in a field my friend was intrigued with. The money to support her training, and the time to study were challenges. That feeling of being in an eddy with the reverse current created  ... that was how my friend was feeling. Sometimes what looks like an unending dervish is BEFORE "when the fluid flows past an obstacle." Women experience this each time they birth a child through a vaginal delivery. It's what women are made to do.

Ever find yourself in the eddy or under the cowlick?

Monday, April 7, 2014

A bit of silliness for spring

 Two old friends sat with hands dancin', and tales winding. There was pie to be had and time for catching. So much of it had passed since we have been together.
 We talked of things that make time slow, and one to the other said, "We let the purple dragon fly under the green awning. The green awning that replaced the big strippy umbrellas ... it has a purple dragon now. For company. We feed the dragon every time we walk out the door!"
"Wow," my old friend said.
 And just because we have a purple dragon to feed, I must have thought why not make my new glasses
Purple, too!