Goin’ Fishin’

It has been an interesting week. There have been many unfoldings. And I’m tired. Sometimes, when I’m tired, I push on. Or fall apart. Today, I’m asking for help.

What kind of posts would YOU like to see on this blog in the near future? Remember to stay within the realms of travel, music, nature, and yoga. Those are my specialties.

Leave your ideas, thoughts, and stories below. I’d be happy to address what ya’ll come up with!

I’m going fishing.  See ya next week!

I’ll leave you with this beautiful poem by John O’Donohue:

Beannacht (for Josie)

On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.

And when your eyes freeze behind the grey window and the ghost of loss gets in to you, may a flock of colours, indigo, red, green and azure blue come to awaken in you a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays in the curach of thought and a stain of ocean blackens beneath you, may there come across the waters a path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours, may the clarity of light be yours, may the fluency of the ocean be yours, may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow wind work these words of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life.

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3 Responses to Goin’ Fishin’

  1. electrickat says:

    What comes up for me around this essay is trust mixed with awareness and intuition. But first I’ll start here:
    There is a learning cycle model out there that goes something like this:

    1. Unconscious Unknowing
    2. Conscious Unknowing
    3. Conscious Knowing
    4. Unconscious Knowing

    I think Phillip Pullman is talking about the third step. And the forward movement he speaks of is deeply connected, in my opinion, to the SW on the 8-Shields Medicine Wheel. After all the hard work of knowing in the South, we move into the Wandering Place, letting go, things get integrated more deeply, and we move deeper into being that which we are. And that, my friend, takes Trust with a capital T. It takes surrender. It is at the same time endlessly fascinating and frightening.

    I like a friend of mine’s definition of Fear. To him Fear = Pay Attention. Up your awareness and by awareness I don’t necessarily mean our thinking minds, I mean it all. Smell, sight, sound, touch, vision, mindfulness, and intuition.

    What do you think?


    • amy says:

      hummm – i like the 4 stages of learning – how does that fit onto the medcine wheel? E = 1 i presume…? so lovely to get your take on the essay – yep – it makes sense that he is talking about being in the SE (not conscious, lots of moving and catching and playing) into the adolesence of the S (super self conscious) and i supos what he’s saying is that there is never any moving backwards to the SE again but we have to move forwards onto the SW. also i think he does hint at the rest of the journey around the medicine wheel when he talks about the garden of edan (must be NE right?) – what do you think?

      Also – been meaning to ask you – how do the core routines (i think 14 of them in c.guide) fit onto the medicine wheel?

      on fear – humm – seems to me that your friend is looking at the light of fear and maybe not so much the shaddow…? not sure – might need to ponder that one a bit more! I’ll leave you with this though: (though i bet you’ve heard it, it is a stonker)

      Paris: Marsha Truman Cooper

      Suppose that what you fear

      could be trapped

      and held in Paris.

      Then you would have

      the courage to go

      everywhere in the world.

      All the directions of the compass

      open to you,

      except the degrees east or west

      of true north

      that lead to Paris.

      Still, you wouldn’t dare

      put your toes

      smack dab on the city limit line.

      You’re not really willing

      to stand on a mountainside,

      miles away,

      and watch the Paris lights

      come up at night.

      Just to be on the safe side

      you decide to stay completely

      out of France.

      But then the danger

      seems too close

      even to those boundaries,

      and you feel

      the timid part of you

      covering the whole globe again.

      You need the kind of friend

      who learns your secret and says,

      “See Paris First.”

      big love. xx

  2. amy says:

    hay lovely woman,
    after our skype the other day, i’d like to know what you make of this essay by philip pullman.
    big love, ax

    On Self-Consciousness and Grace: Pullman

    Heinrich von Kleist’s essay, “On the Marionette Theatre” written in 1812 tells of a conversation he had with a friend who was a dancer. The friend told him that he had just witnessed the most graceful exhibition of dancing he has ever seen – in the puppet theatre. The marionettes’ unaffected gracefulness surpassed anything a human dancer could manage.
    They talk about grace and self-consciousness, and Kleist tells a story…about a young man whose grace and physical beauty were admired by all. One day this young man was drying himself after a visit to the baths, and he noticed – and called his friend’s attention to the fact – that he had unconsciously fallen into exactly the same posture as that of a Roman stature of an athlete removing a thorn from his foot. From that moment, Kleist says, an invisible net seemed to fall over the young man. All his grace left him; his movements became stiff and self-conscious.
    The dancer follows with another story about a time when he had been fencing with a friend and beating him hollow. The friend invited him to try and fence with a tame bear, and the dancer scoffed, but found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t touch the bear with the tip of his swords: the bear countered every time. Furthermore, when he feinted, the bear knew and didn’t move.
    The conclusion they came to is that the further we go from the human – into the semi-consciousness of the bear, into the entire unconsciousness of the puppet – the more clearly grace emerges. It’s self-consciousness that kills it off.
    We live in a dark valley, on a spectrum between the unconscious grace of the puppet and the fully conscious grace of god. But the only way out of this impasse, they agree, is not back towards childhood: as with the Garden of Eden, an angel with a fiery sword guards the way; there is no going back.
    We have to go forward, though the travails and difficulties of life and embarrassment and doubt, and hope that as we grow older and wiser we may approach paradise again from the back, as it were, and enter that grace that lies at the other end of the spectrum.

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