Archive for the ‘Some things I read’ Category

the never ending reveal

The Partner just showed me a piece of wood he’d brought in for the woodstove.  The tree it was from, which had fallen, looked to be from the rings about as old as we are.  Sobering thought in a way but also just totally amazing and also,  a kind of proof of interconnectedness and the flow between all things.  I don’t know, maybe it was watching the young turkey mosey on up the driveway last night with a hummingbird escort, or maybe it’s the beauty of our Very Short Spring, but everything seems flooded with a kind of light and beauty, even in the most austere spots.

For example, on a recent evening it turned out we’d both, as kids, seen the film The Hunchback of Notre Dame at about the same ages, and both recognized, with a start, Self in the Hunchback.  We’d both been dragging virtual hunch backs around with our respective Histories, and the memories of walking down hallways in school and people leaving a few feet of space between them and us, as though there were a contagion of some sort we’d been exposed to and they wanted no part of, were the same for both of us. I was quite frankly shocked.  YOU? I said? Handsome and kind YOU?  Well, he said. Yes.  And YOU?

It really made me think about what we go through as humans, and how some of it is so hard that your possibilities can be shrunken, in your own estimation, to the size of a grain of rice.  How much effort must go in to stepping around that obstacle, that possibility, and how much further effort into not carrying that sense of alienation along with one for the duration.  How all those hardened faces you see in life, all the issues and ailments arising therefrom, the narcissists and the shooters….all of it is about that beginning salvo of you are not OK.

So, ok, fast forward through the wending around all that.  I recently re-read THE DIVINING HEART, by Patricia and Richard Wright  (a companion book to THE DIVINING MIND, by T. Edward Ross and Richard Wright).  Both of these books came to me when I was first learning how to dowse, which perhaps not coincidentally is Another One of Those Things I don’t talk to most people about lest they be sure I am a nut.  Dowsing, popularly thought of as what some strange individual does with a forked stick, announcing in a creaky voice where you should dig your well, or where your car keys are, is actually a way of focusing your mind and all the energies therein on investigating the Universe.  Theta brain waves floating out from you with a question, coming back with an answer.  The question, of course, is most important, and one of the many great things about dowsing is that you actually learn how to formulate and ask proper questions.  It changes the way you communicate across the board because superfluities such as One’s Very Important Story are not part of the equation, nor is any sort of brow beating or Proof of Currently Existing Concept to the Exclusion of All Else.  In other words, it is a kind of ego-free way to learn.  Also, you find your car keys a LOT sooner.

Anyway in rereading this book I came across a part about the power of focussed intention on healing, which is sometimes referred to as prayer.  TCM refers to this, in the preparation of medicine, as Bao Zhi, which is simply (or over simply maybe?) the power of the practitioner’s awareness and loving kindness being passed in to the preparation.  Prayer has many connotations, I suppose, especially now, but I think of it as what another teacher called it: Unencumbered communication with Creator.  And, since I agree with the Buddha that all beings want to be happy, what I understand this as in a healing framework is the practitioner smoothing, so to speak, the electric and magnetic and emotional waves of another individual, with clarity and love and no preconceptions of what anything will look like, so that person can themselves reach into their own still point of this communication.  That is where healing happens and this, I believe, is HOW it happens.  We always heal ourselves, if we are willing, but we often need help from another in holding, so to speak, the space where it all happens minus fear and expectation, and with the provision of whatever other elements may be most appropriate.

SO.  The other day someone suggested I write up a sales flyer for a short weekend fair about my “stuff”, being careful not to step on the toes of another person in the situation who works with essential oils in a fairly traditional way, which is to say, eucalyptus is good for colds and muscle aches, lavender is calming (in small amounts), etc., i.e. the commonly known and already conceived “knowledge” about these substances. I realized that the situation was not appropriate anyway, and I certainly didn’t want any fur raised anywhere, but beyond that it came to me that I had absolutely no idea about how to simply describe what I do, since it is not “that”.  Because in a way it “sounds” crazy and this, Gentle Reader, is where the whole Hunchback Quasimodo thing comes in.

What I realized, the moral of this story thank you Bob Dylan, is that in fact one SHOULD never be where one does not belong, and if you can’t explain something simply without pretense and inhalation it’s perfectly fine to smile, say no thank you, and carry on.  People can clear a space around you or come calling, it’s their choice.  The distractions of current cultural imperatives, money, conformity, appearances- are just that.  Distractions from the work at hand, which is to do the best one can in any given situation, whether it involves wide open solitary spaces or hands on someone’s forehead when they’ve just tripped and fallen and are bleeding in front of their propane tanks.  I’m not a religious person, do not denominate myself, oppose patriarchy in its many guises….but I’m coming to see that quite often doing the best one can involves the prayer, the open question to the skies which takes into account what is already known and elicits what is not, with a humble and open heart.

Blessings and thanks, as always.

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problem solving

That seems to be the current, non-stop, project.  I find myself wondering just how many problems there can be in one bear’s life but it is one thing after another at present.

Aside from being down to our last jerryrigged french press coffee pot (after the plunger broke on the plastic one we’d been using while the blessed elixir was being made this morning,  and we took the plunger from the one where the beaker broke to smithereens), and aside from the password on my Mac being rejected so I can’t log on with any confidence and the hours are running out on the time my browser will work at all due to the Age of the Device (“the logic board can’t talk to the new systems”), AND aside from the fact that the carefully sequestered dollars for laptop went instead to our Vet because the Dog got an ear infection and how much fun we are having cleaning and medicating his ear I’ll leave to your imagination…..aside, as I say, from all that…….

I find myself pondering the utility of things.  My mind has been at a standstill lately, perhaps because all the space between my ears is taken up with problem solving.  After a time of just pulling all the wriggling bits back together after the actually rather considerable destruction wreaked by, well,  entropy and nature…..I re-embarked on basics.  Scrubbing mildew off walls (an issue in yurts, it turns out.  The walls sweat and the power outages and what not made for a fungal fun-fest all around), cleaning up the storage container “section” next to the tub and scrubbing everything THERE, and doing all the recycling that piled up from November when the Partner got sick again, kicking off the pretty much non-stop fun fest of this winter (don’t think THAT wasn’t fun, either.  I had a literal car full of bottles and milk jugs and dish soap containers and beer cans….which took about 40 minutes to sort through and netted me the astonishing sum of $5.  The good news is that the car now smells like slightly spoilt milk instead of gasoline.)…I realized that even though I am MUCH less vigilant than I used to be when everything got cleaned once a week whether it needed it or not, there is still a quality of Sisyphus-ness to it all which makes it rather more of a challenge to get motivated than seems proper.  I mean: I do all this stuff over and over and over.  It needs to be done.  And it’s a rather St. Augustine-ish proposition, the reward of patience being patience sort of thing.  In short- one has a happy moment of yes I did that and then….all over again.  I feel the same way about our efforts to snag some legal tender, too.  Over and over and over and….????? it’s hard to know what to think about any of it, except that it appears not to be working all that well and the prospects are, to say the least, rather obscured by clouds.

So.   As I wondered just how much I want to participate in the totentanz of daily life here in paradise, balance it with what can actually be done and what looks like it’s coming down the pike any minute both small and large, throw in a few times where the body goes sideways and refuses to come out of its room….it all just came to a cacophonous head, in short.  I decided for a minute or two anyway to just give up.

It felt good for a minute.  Just to say, OK, this IS it.  Enough already.  I’ve tried as hard and as long as I can.  Sayonara, where’s the airport?

But of course, that’s not what I’m going to do.  Give up, I mean.  I have no idea what I AM going to do, what shape things will take, or anything.  But it will be different if only because my thinking about it is different.  Which is interesting, because:

In this current period of OMG, I went back to, and read, what saved me much earlier in my life in what still ranks as The Most Awful Time Ever, by which I mean High School.  And what that was, was: Winnie the Pooh.  Julia Child.  Krishnamurti.  Sherlock Holmes.  Lao Tzu.  My lifetime companions, really.  Especially Pooh.  So I’m  humming more and reminding myself that somehow, without doing, it all gets done.  And you never know what might happen, but honey’s always a good thing.  And maybe “goals” and “objectives” and all that are just ideas.  Not all ideas work for everyone all the time.  So I’m changing mine a bit or maybe it’s that I’m going back to what I USED to think before I went out in the world and got all Involved.  And that is that the Universe is a lot smarter than I am, or anyone else for that matter really,  so I’m going to let It take the lead…let Nature take its course.  I suspect this will be far more successful than I can, at present, imagine.    I’m hoping so, anyway.  Anyway the thought is to OBSERVE and not put a lot of energy into FORMULATING stuff. This also means no churning. And: Change direction based on observation of Nature, without expectation or hope that things will be some way other than they actually are.  Living with that completely promises to be interesting.

As always, thank you, blessings, and….we’ll keep you posted on Pooh-ish Realizations…

 

 

Claude Levi-Strauss

Having read Tristes Tropiques and being sad when it ended, I actually lugged The Origin of Table Manners with me on a long trip through Mexico. ( And read it there, moreover, while I had real deal amoebic dysentery in the freaking jungle.  Way to have fun!)  So, I was saddened to see that Claude Levi-Strauss died over this past weekend.   He brought a fresh eye to his subject, as well as rigor, and whether or not the end product was something you agreed with or not, it was always stimulating and thought provoking to read his work.  I always enjoyed the way he opened up anthropological thought, and perhaps academic thought as a whole, by his more horizontal analysis of how things repeat through cultures, which was called “structuralism”.  I never understand these names, but anyway.  (Like, really, for example, what is Deconstruction?)  In any event, an original mind is no longer with us, and while that is the way of  life,  it is still a melancholy thing.  I hope he is on to another grand adventure.

Just To Amuse Myself

A header change.  Or whatever these theme things are called.  We’re still on the high seas of crazy, apparently, and such things amuse us.  

However! I have been thinking, mulling things over, as per usual.  A book on my shelf demanded to be taken down and opened, and it opened to some thoughts on Resonance.  An ancient sage was asked what the real meaning of the I Ching was, and he responded: Resonance.  Wow.  THAT set me right.   “An essential essence or sound within the Universe….the idea of putting yourself in touch with (this) essence of the Universe through the use of chance…..the essential ebb and flow of the Universe, if it is possible to tap into this at any time…it simply remains to find the correct or best method of doing so….” (from THE FORTUNE TELLER’S I CHING, Palmer, Ho and O’Brien.)  For a minute I had been drifting in a seemingly chartless Sargasso Sea of Blah and Yeugh.  This little paragraph reminded me what it is I have been in search of, working toward, however you want to say it, in my life.  It is Resonance.  No coinkidink then, that I am a practitioner of vibrational medicine.  Glad to get that cleared up finally, especially since I’ve been wondering lately if I’m just a hardheaded misguided relic.  People ask me what I “do” and honestly? I often don’t know what to say.  It’s hard to explain.  Plus one doesn’t want to sound like one is issuing an invitation to the Hall of Windchimes and Unicorns.  

So.  Other than that? Just waiting for the Partner to return so I can make my visit to the Shrine of Trader Joe’s.  And, it IS Friday.  We made it again!  Ghastly failure was at times a matter of touch and go, just like in A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME, but we made it once again.  For which I am thankful.

Oh, The Fun We’re Having

I feel an odd sense of hopefulness about developments in Iran. Perhaps I’m crazy. But there appears to be a sort of a glimmer of possibility for shift, which could create glimmers for shifts elsewhere. In other words, a move toward integrating old paradigms into actual positive reality. A loosening of the logjam. A breakup of the ice on the river (interestingly, the French word for that? is debacle.) It’s a melancholy hopefulness, of course, because these sorts of things, since they involve humans, are seemingly always very costly. The entrenched Powers That Be never want to give up their hog’s share of things. The “my way or the highway” deal. Why, indeed, can’t we just get along? We’re running out of time and also this way of doing things is not only unproductive. It’s boring. Not only taxing but tiring. ( Also it is wasteful, and Nature does not waste energy. We may be moving toward a point where Nature is going to say to us: Get off me you– you wastrels!)

I’ve also been thinking about real estate, and real estate agents. Suddenly there appears to be a realtor for about every 5000 people in this country. How did that happen? And why is that necessary? Also, who are they? It is interesting when you look into THAT. Personally, this is what I think. The concept of “owning” land is a little strange. It’s like owning air, or water, or sunlight. I read an interesting thing in Delancey.com, which is a wonderful daily email about ideas. It was about the American Revolution, and how a good deal of the support for it ultimately came from people living in America who wanted to own land so they could make lots of money. Hmmm. So, let’s see here. First, there are people already living here, the First Nations. Then, Europeans come, obliterate them, and say, “Only WE and Our Special Designees can own this land”. Which, while it isn’t anybody’s really, certainly wasn’t THEIRS to make that decision over. So then, other Europeans come, but the time line has shifted, and they’re lumped in with the First Nations: They can’t own land either. Revolution ensues, and what do you know? A different, supposedly more egalitarian set of rules comes up, so that if you have enough money, you can own land. ( Unless you’re a member of the First Nations. In that case, you are still and forever S.O. L.) A neat and orderly way of limiting ownership, when you think about it. Fast forward to today, where we have legions of real estate agents who do what exactly? Maintain and participate in the long, limited lineage of who may own property. Except that greed got in the way this time and now the whole thing has blown up. Which just, to my mind, shows you the faultiness of the original premise. *SIGH*

Meanwhile, off to the nursery for a potting soil purchasing extravaganza. My kind of land ownership.

Still Not Reachable for Comment

The brain has not checked in yet.  I’m starting to wonder if it has gone on a Himalayan trek without letting me know.

I imagine that trek is crowded with brains from all over, brains that need a break.  Brains that need a vacation.  Brains that are out of shape and think a festive hike in a different setting might get them back in fighting trim.  All I know is I feel pretty light headed.

Still.  I’ve been reading.  When I first got WIZARD OF THE CROW (  by N. Wa Thiongo, mentioned before) I was in the midst of a Nerve Destroying, Bone Shattering But All For the Best Personal Planetary Shift.  I knew this was a great book but my concentration wasn’t up to the task.  Instead I finished JONATHAN STRANGE AND MR. NORRELL by Susanna Clark which I loved, and which also seemed related to the work I was commencing on somehow.  Instructive, as it were, so I could focus.  Also I had broken part of my foot and needed something Long and Weighty to keep me occupied.  Now I am back to WIZARD and I must say: Fantastic.  It is hilarious , awful at the same time, wonderful and instructive .   Also, it is good to keep in mind while watching the news from Lagos.

Yesterday, when I finally had to admit I could go no further after seeing the contents of my mailbox, I staged a retreat to the backyard with THE MIRACLE LIFE OF EDGAR MINT, by Brady Udall.  Another hilarious and awful book, closer to home and requiring some unflinching attention, but I read almost the whole book in one afternoon.

So.  I feel better even though the brain is AWOL and I have to Go Outside and Act Like A Functioning Grown Up Now which I am not altogether sure I can pull off today.  But those two books gave me some food for the soul, and I thank their writers for that very much, indeed.

The Curious Case of the Dog Toy In the Afternoon

Well.  Here we are at another Monday.  It started off like a plane ride I took in the Yucatan once:  Lightening strikes all around, hitting the plane wings, children and babies screaming.  The cabin crew, through sheer brilliance or simply being used to plane wings looking like they were in flames, immediately dispensed mandatory beer and soft drinks all round, people started chatting in a mordantly flirtatious way.  More lightening, more bumpy ride.  Friendly wagers were made for who was buying if we ever got back on terra firma again. Eventually we landed, with a good bit of spark and flash of course,  and the entire plane erupted in cheers.

So that was this morning.  At this point I think I can at least see today’s landing strip.

Over the weekend, however, there were some features of interest.  It was simply too hot to do anything.  Doing nothing is fine with me as it turns out.  I lugged my texts out for study, then read some of my backlogged books.  Among them were A TESTAMENT OF HOPE, selected writings of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.   I was reading his pieces on non-violent action, the kind of universal love rooted in the commonality of all our beings that funds that action, and the fact that such non-violent action is based not on passively accepting the bad, but on always working to engage the opposers in a dialogue that can open into awareness and understanding.  Which ultimately leads to a solution that works for all since it is truly based on common good.  Another book I was working through is COSMOS AND PSYCHE by Richard Tarnas, which is a terrific book about  history and humanity in light of influences and energies from nature and the cosmos.  He was discussing Jung and synchronicity, and how Jung had experiences where he was set in one way of thinking, then a seemingly random occurrence would reveal the larger elements at play in the situation and move his thinking in the direction of greater clarity and awareness.

Late yesterday afternoon The Partner and I were sitting in the backyard, when suddenly there was a rustle on top of the fence.  Our resident squirrel was passing through.  The Partner’s eyes got round, there was a sharp intake of breath, and he said, That squirrel’s got a DOG TOY.  And sure enough, our little friend was making his way carrying a red rubber squeak dog bone  toy in his mouth.  He was heading toward the tree he lives in, which happens to be in the yard where the Dachshund Sisters live.  Lately they’ve been barking their heads and tails off every morning, and I don’t mind telling you it is getting VERY OLD.

Suddenly inspiration struck Partner as follows.  Squirrel lives in tree above dogs.  Squirrel has no earthly use for dog toys, not even as a sofa in already comfortable leafy condominium.   (We see this squirrel dash up the tree and get into his house, where he will often stretch out with chin on paws gazing out at the sky.)  Dogs are ratters and badger hunters, thus squirrel pushes the bark, harass and hunt button.  Squirrel needs to get down from tree and forage in yard in a peaceable and non-threatening to dogs manner: In short, establish Detente with the Dogs.  

I submit to you, Gentle Reader, that there is more in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in our philosophy.  This squirrel brought this dog toy, which he apparently quietly  liberated from another dog’s possession in another yard up the street, to the Dachshund Sisters as a gesture of peace and goodwill.  As in, look, here’s a toy for you.  I mean you no harm.  We can be friends.  You don’t need to eat me, I don’t need to eat anything you’ve got.   We can live together.  I’ll just leave this here for you, and you’ll know it’s from me ’cause of the squirrel scent.

This morning there were only a few, of course mandatory, sun salutation barks.  And a little squeaking.  

There you have it: The power of love Dr. King wrote about.  And for me, synchronicity: A reminder that things do work for the good, no matter how much the wings look like they’re catching on fire.