Let's just say life has handed me a one-two punch, perhaps even a three-four punch, to the belly. It is early morning and I am in early mourning for the life I used to think I was living. In a way though, it is all for the good. Growing pains hurt but life is always changing, and it always is metamorphosing into different forms. I am taking a page from the playbook of Qeuetzalcoatl, and shedding my skin, over and over endlessly. I have wings to fly through the clouds and I slither through the dirt just as comfortably. Evolution is dependent on those with the most flexibility, those who can weather the change with the least agony. I keep telling everyone I know that change is the fire under our psyche's butt, and now, yes, even I have to live like the Pheonix through the ancient combustion of life's licking flames.
I don't think we, as cosmic monkeys, are hard-wired to like it though, seeing as we put it off until nothing else will do.
Let me just say this to the universe. I want to change, I want to flow into the new life, but I don't want to cleave myself from all that I know, in order to keep the spark of life and love that I understand inside of me. I feel apprehensive that the cold winds of this world might blow out that tenuous spark otherwise.
Are we, each of us, micro-universes, and is the universe a macro-self?
This is a central teaching of shamanistic and pagan traditions across the world. These wisdom systems all share a core understanding of what humanity represents, which is a personification of the energy that creates the universe. We are, essentially, love incarnate, which fuels the fire of universal procreation. Mountains and rivers form in the heart of the universe, creations formed from the unique and amazing woven fabrics made from the threads of love, the energy of the heart. Who can say what electricity is other then the movement of energy toward itself, the longing of the individual pulse to unite, to yoke itself, to the endless ocean?
Can feelings be used as evidence while gathering empirical data? Aren't feelings as real as thoughts, and aren't thoughts more real then we give them credit for? A thought is a something as much as a word is, or speech, or even a movement. Perhaps a thought is simply the seed of action, but that certainly doesn't make it not something. A seed is one of the most powerful things that exist in this universe.
Shamans and other wisdom seekers learned about the universe through various means other then the scientific method, but amassed a vast amount of demonstrable fact regardless of their means. How did humans know so much about the plants of the world, before the scientific method figured out how to analyze plant particulates? The shamans, pagans, vegetalistas, and herbalists would have us believe that the plant communicates with them. The only reason we find this hard to believe nowadays is that the scientific method has insisted that only mammals communicate, and only human mammals communicate complex thoughts and emotions. This is simply a bias, I think, just like when the world was thought to be flat, and the heavens spun around it. Just raw egotism.
When the world, even the universe, is understood to be populated by an infinite amount of beings, who, like us, are traveling through space and time being what it is they are, and when one believes that all these beings can practice some form of communication, then the internet becomes a shallow experience compared to the network of communication that exists not only out your back door, but perhaps even on your desk. The wisdom keepers of the ages have understood that the only way to communicate with all these beings is with the heart. The intellect is our human toy, perhaps as unique to us as the opposable thumb. According to wisdom keeper Martin Prechtel, the grinding noise of our minds keeps many beings at bay, put off.
Perhaps it is time to recognize the mind for what it is, an extremely useful tool. But just like a wrench is useless without a hand, so is the mind is useless without a direct connection to the heart.
With that in mind, please watch this clip and dance around. Connect to your body for a little while.
Every day I am thankful that I can turn on the tap and draw clean water from our city water sources. Some would say that this water is not that clean, and I do admit not relishing its flavor because of the chlorine and whatever chemicals used to make it potable, but it is good, clean, safe water nonetheless. This in a way is a treasure, this water that allows us to feel healthy and safe.
It could always be better. I could live in the country and collect clean rainwater, or draw on a crystal clear aquifer. But I think it is always a good thing to appreciate what is right there, in front of you. We are taking pretty polluted water from a main artery that flows through our city and cleaning it to the best of our abilities in order to supply the system with good water.
If we look at it from a permaculture perspective, it falls short in many ways. Too energy intensive, no stacking functions, no longevity of infrastructure, or self-maintenance. The whole thing is a wild, unruly mess, truth be told.
But that is sort of comforting. I am a wild, unruly mess as well. Perhaps we should redesign these systems in a better way, but right now I think we should respect what they are, and the spirit behind them. Vive la vida!