Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Nature's pace: slow to medium

"There are two things we cannot do in the fast lane: We cannot integrate our experiences. We cannot deepen our character" - Angeles Arrien

I first heard the pace of nature described as 'slow to medium' many years ago when I wrote a regular column Makua o'o. Donnella Meadows was still alive, and on the pages of that small, independently-owned press we wrote together. "Dr. Donella H. Meadows, a Pew Scholar in Conservation and Environment and a MacArthur Fellow, was one of the most influential environmental thinkers of the twentieth century." Meadows' Global Citizen Columns were printed weekly, my columns were printed twice a month in The Hawaii Island Journal. In retrospect, as well as while I was privileged to write that column sharing my thoughts and life as a maturing adult, my experiences and my character were unfurling as naturally as the fern: slow to medium. My life and observations were undergoing an unfolding of mystery which was not about to be controlled by my impatience. Though I have never given up being impatient I get regular clues that tell me when impatience is not serving me. Perhaps, the question of service is really "What is true service? What does it look like?"

The look
This morning I write with my nose and mouth masked against something(s) that make it difficult for me to breath. The mask and the unidentified something(s) have become part of the unfolding mystery of my life. The exterior world of allergens or chemicals challenge me to breathe. The mask helps, so I wear it. The allergens and chemicals are sometimes clear to me, and I dodge them, clear them, pray, rest; usually in that order. When I am out of energy, or spoons, rest is alpha dog. No more dodging, I sleep. Even in my sleep, the thing about people like me is there is the dreamtime the dreamworld applies its answers to the interior world of an elder in training. Questions beget answers, old unfinished business shows up as more unfolds. Over time the answers come. Over time the same answers get a new translation. The metaphor of my life as an elder in training is turned on its head like the Hang Man in a deck of Tarot, and I see things differently.

One interpretation

With the pollen season fully in place where we live in the Pacific Northwest, the question of how long I can continue to dodge, clear, pray and rest as my practice challenge me. I get tired of this! Where do I do for answers when the loop tightened? Dreams. I wrote quite a ramble here about dreaming and more wants out. Let's see whether the mask helps or hinders the process of integrating experiences while also deepening character.

Now, this Tuesday by the calendar is also the second of the 'Ole Phase Moons according to my ancestral time keeper Kaulana Mahina. 'Ole moons are times to weed, reflect and pause between projects/planting/fishing. 'Ole moons at this stage of the moon's rotation around Earth, are the fattening Crescent moon phases leading to the full moon. So as an integration process, it's good to reflect on the journey.

Astrologically, Saturn (my chart ruler) is mid-way through the second year of his approximately two-and-a-half year occupancy in Scorpio. Deep(Scorpio) pressure(Saturn) is being applied to us humans and the systems that we have created. What is unable to sustain the pressure will crumble; what values what roles one has assumed as valuable will be/and are being tested. Where ever Saturn in Scorpio is in a person's natal chart will be feeling that deep pressure. For me Saturn transits my 10th (public reputation) and 11th (relationships/affiliations) throughout 2014. The primary characteristic of Saturn in astrology, as it applies to human evolution is the planet's affect over time. There's nothing quick about Saturn. Lessons learned spread themselves over time, and weave into situations like the coil of the serpent or the shape of the human DNA.

What I question is what role I play NOW as an elder young in my wisdom years, yet seasoned enough to have lessons integrated as well as lessons that are best recycled/burned up and prayed into the cycle of life and death. When I am challenged again with being unable to breath the interior and exterior landscape of being ultimately bring me in. I am deeply Scorpio.

We homo sapien sapien, I am listening to videos and reading two books simultaneously. The teachers/books are those of Angeles Arrien and Robert Moss. From each of these teachers (one who has passed in spirit) and the other who Dreams, I explore the deep interior world while I wear my mask, dodge pollens and clear myself of the obstacles to breath. My impatience surfaces when I cannot breath easily ... impatience and breathing really don't mix. So, I slow down and nature helps. My dreams have intensified, and the guidance from Moss' book Conscious Dreaming A Spiritual Path for Everyday Life suits my Capricorn Moon's need to be comforted in the darkness like an oyster's shell. While I cannot go out freely to be with people, in places, doing what so many others can I practice the pace of nature and appear to be slowed to a halt. But the opposite is true. While I am slowed, my adventures within are at least medium ... or through the medium of dreams I unfold deeply and self-correction seems to be in the making. Julia Cameron wrote this for today, May 6, in her book Artist's Way Every Day

"Artists love other artists. Shadow artists are gravitating to their rightful tribe but cannot yet claim their birthright. Very often audacity, not talent, makes one person an artist and another a shadow artist--hiding in the shadows, afraid to step out and expose the dream to the light, fearful that it will disintegrate to the touch. Shadow artist judge themselves harshly, beating themselves for years over the fact that they have not acted on their dreams. This cruelty only reinforces their status as shadow artists. Remember, it takes nurturing to make an artist. Shadow artists did not receive sufficient nurturing. They blame themselves for not acting fearlessly anyhow."

Dear Readers you cannot see me at the screen behind my white lace with the red rose mask, but I will tell you I have removed it long enough to finish my oatmeal and close in to conclude this morning ramble. Rest calls. Slow to medium is good. Enough now for this 'Ole Moon day. Out of the shadow into the light the art is made. Love an artist. Love your art. Love your life! You are the one.

The pace
Slow to medium ... a great mantra. (click here for another place for daily good words).

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