We were all born knowing how to fly. In dreams (and ambition) we recapture that lost knowledge, soaring gravity-less above our quotidian terrain. But in our daytime lives, Flight becomes lost art, a feat mastered by moths, a state of freedom we can only envy. If we want to locate a soulmate, we will need to develop “wiles.”
Ingenuity is a critical re-imagining of “same-old, same-old.” We need to release the rage behind our boredom and adopt fresh thinking in order to find our Soulmate. We need to consider some “unlikely” packages. Maybe you never imagined yourself with a younger person, someone with children, or someone from a very different background.
To turn our useless, stubby appendages into wings we first project ourselves psychically into the air. Discover the world from a new angle. What does the hawk see as he floats above our traffic jam?
Suddenly, falling becomes diving, lightness equals strength and floating becomes endurance. My old school had a challenge called “Night Problems” especially popular with daters – a blindfolded couple was dumped in the middle of Pennsylvania country and expected to find a way back to the school. Alert readers will recognize this as “orienteering”, a team sport in which participants’ true characters definitely emerge!
Back when I was engaged, marriage counselors used to recommend sharing the same toothbrush or wallpapering a room together! Believe me, if you’re going to split up, it will happen then. True character most reveals itself under these stressful conditions.
“HOW DID YOU MEET?”
You saw me naked I saw you too close- up. You hovered, teaching, You drank vodka, I drank wormwood.
Between green glimpses You cut mountains down to size; I’d no idea that one could Take such charge of space.
Now I’m an icicle, Nostrils pierced by thorns, falling Face-first for every launch. You were the king the ghost pines saluted.
From this height, I see everything; How you dove and danced! Speeding through your love-drunk universe, Infecting me with your own whiteness,
I was dizzy, till all my blood drained out. You challenged God; I was the echo following after. Yet here I am after all this time;
The Garden we wish to share is an island in the universe that is Earth. As we travel, we soon find out that Earth itself is another Garden, almost too large for us to comprehend, containing many wonders.
We are creatures of this planet that nourishes us; but who’s taking care of who? Gardens need a lot of care. The quality of the soil, timing and positioning of the plants, their symbiosis and synchronicity are critical. If we block the sun and clog the air with burning smoke we all suffer.
Earth is our mother and we are her children. Mothers get old; they welcome renewal but they can’t last forever, so it is good to study sensible policies about health and healing. The key here is whether we even try to give back as much as we have received. If we make the effort, benefits will overflow.
Our care for the earth is a model of the care we offer the Beloved Other. Is it an attractive deal? Are we givers as well as takers? Or are we just searching for a complicit Other to despoil the planet with?
When it is a question of what we can give, we must examine our resources. This is the source of the famous kneeling offering of a diamond ring. Cynics would say a “taker” is hoping she’ll be so dazzled she won’t notice that’s ALL she’ll be getting. A honeymoon over before it even started.
So what are the resources we are taking for granted? Often, having earth under our feet and a roof over our head is something we barely even think about. Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes. Our vision stretches so far down the road to imagined “somedays” that we are impatient with “today”. Today seems so modest, so ordinary. It isn’t until we really consider the people and places that have “always had our back” that we even form the words, “thank you.” A soulmate with contempt for the familiar doesn’t trust intimacy.
Part of the reason we lose interest in our humblest resources is that we’ve done nothing to deserve them. It’s embarrassing for us even to admit there are resources we have no control over, that come to us just by virtue of where we chance to live, or work, or who we’re related to. It makes sense to add them up and give thanks for them right now. Sometimes we find that we can assume the reins of these neglected resources after all; sharpen them up, improve them, modify and share them into an aspect of our life-plan after all.
A good example is the rude health that often comes to all of us simply as part of our youth. We can’t rely on that forever! Are there ways that we abuse good health, good sleep, warm familial connections and may even be unconsciously reducing our future opportunities of enjoying them? Let’s make them part of our conscious plan today and stop taking them for granted.
Why do we harm our own resources? Why can’t we use the resources that we have? Why waste our time pining for those we DON’T have? Descending deeper through the subconscious we uncover the powerful, devastating wish is to be the exact opposite to what we actually are. Our fantasy is so powerful, we can picture this person – us, but better proportioned, more beautiful, intelligent, relaxed, powerful, magnetic. Mustering all these imagined resources, we yearn to attract someone who is ALSO just like that.
Cat-fishers know this and try to lure us into their web with borrowed pix, false profiles and Fear of Missing Out. Fantasy not only WON’T save us, it makes us hate ourselves! Now is the time to study our REAL resources – they are UNIQUE. Is it our wonderful family? Our stubborn determination? Fantastic teeth? Interesting job? Ability to laugh? Interest in others? Generosity? Friends? Faith? All these things? Think about your resume, which describes where you ACTUALLY WENT and what you ACTUALLY DID. Now try to write one about what you learned and who you became and where that stands on the path to who you want to be.
Didn’t the mistakes lead to insight? Didn’t the suffering deepen your compassion? Are we stronger at the broken places? The further into this exercise you go the more likely you are to realize your soulmate will be lucky to have you!
Green Thumb
You tend my body so well you can’t Surprise me anymore You’re the surprise and I’m used to you Folding back my lettuce leaves with your tongue Coaxing the reluctant caterpillar While I lie awake giddy with Self preservation until The final firecracker moment When you release and flourish The fragrant butterfly
In Memory lies our Identity. There are probably no sadder words than “I don’t remember you.” We are born with wild, unexplored ambitions and we spend our lives trying to live up to them by learning & acquiring partnership, discipline & practice. And sometimes, trying to forget negative conditioning and poor patterning.
Memory is the foundation of art, science and law as we try to reflect back what we have learned. Memory gives us the words to say to build and express our emotions & intent. Luckily our bodies have memories, too. Memory resides in hearing, touch, taste, sight and muscle; long after words have gone.
Past Patterns – Sometimes we recognize a pattern coming around again, but more often, we don’t. We’re accustomed to treating each new crisis as if it blew in out of nowhere. This is where journaling can really pay off for us as we ask a series of questions: have I been here before? And what did it look like that time? Is there anything different – really new – about now?
Negative Conditioning is when we learned unhelpful or destructive practices. If we grew up with parents who couldn’t forge strong intimate connections there is a danger we will re-experience all their trouble. We also learn from patterns experienced through art or viewed from a distance. And then there are “cultural ideals” – some of which are downright unhealthy and must be discarded.
Sometimes we only see a situation clearly when it’s happening to someone else! What advice does our past self have to give us – our cockier, more youthful self? How about our wiser self – the mature self who can see the whole picture — the one who’s “arrived”?
Memory is not just who we are, memory is where we live. Our Soulmate is not a mind-reader, so communication is constant and evolving. Memories change, as we change. Different aspects of our own story emerge into importance as we evolve. Previously, we might not have even noticed aspects of our own story that we now see as key. This has important implications for the presentation of self that is critical to our connection with another person.
Are prepared for this “other” to dramatically transform the way we see ourselves; to change our story’s “meaning” as well as altering our past and empowering our future? There is an Official Version of our past we like to tell others as we introduce ourselves; now is the time to ponder the Secret Version. The version we only tell our most significant other.
Is it secret because it is shameful? Soulmate Love is not an opportunity to escape our past but to heal it. That toxic shame may be the exact lens through which you and the Soulmate first “see” each other. Your connection will start as a series of conversations, which may be physical, verbal, or non-verbal.
In literature, the tale of Cupid & Psyche embodies these processes, as Psyche (“The Soul”) first thinks she is married to a monster with whom she can only mate in darkness. She “steals a glance” at him when he is sleeping but, when he catches her, he is furious and flees. The plot twist: he was actually a beautiful young man, but he didn’t know it so was not ready to reveal himself. The “monster” was his toxic shame. How does the story end? You and your Soulmate will find out.
PRACTICE CUTS
The dead gush cruelly after dying. High time to make some changes; Get religion, have visions See god, become a nun
Some self worth knowing. Time is gunning for me Arthritic fingers Scrabbling at my dreams
Playing old tunes Scratchy now, less sensitive.
I’m a body in search of a car wreck That old deus ex machina Disaster; blood is so good
At erasing uncertainty & Bringing back a taste for life. Reduce me, silence: fortify Some other ego, mine’s too tired.
Ebb out along the tide, Cauterize this woof-warp of a pattern So plain even I can see it.
Reduce me to unbending bones of My essential self: sweet sister; she; The soul I was before I became me.
We are all Sun Worshippers. It is easy to understand how this star became a deity to the ancients considering it warms and replenishes us into activity and strength. Turns out, all of us are batteried by solar power, just like the reptiles. Our doctors and cosmetologists tell us to “stay out of the sun” and get our Vitamin D in a pill but we ignore them, drawn by the need to sun ourselves on the nearest rock, eyes closed into seeming vulnerability while our planet perpetually circles this fiery blaze. The Sun therefore represents in our lives a nourishing force which could make us stupid should we over-indulge.
Light defeats darkness. To understand what this means we need to shed any “nocturnal prejudices” we may have and concentrate on light as the necessary enabler of Sight. In total darkness, we are at a loss; we see nothing. To “shed light” on a problem means to finally “see” it for what it is. Light, in other words, is knowledge. Understanding. We finally get it! It’s the “forehead clapping” moment when the “magic picture” resolves itself into shapes that make sense. Without this basic road map we are unmoored – can make no meaningful plans.
Light, then is the Beginning of Intelligence. Light is Truth. It helps us to see each other for what we really are so we can forge meaningful connections, create meaningful plans and map out shared goals. Even the blind can make important use of Light – and all of us are partially blind in one way or another. But it is what we can “see” –and share – that matters.
If Truth is so important, why do we all lie? The religion of advertising is both ethos and atmosphere in American life. A policy of presenting yourself in “your best light” becomes researching other people’s needs and weaknesses to find out what they can’t resist and pretending you’re that thing. This is no way to locate a Soulmate.
The anger, suspicion and mistrust, the contempt, derision and manipulation behind these ideas does not magically go away. Therefore, we hate others for forcing us to be fake, and they hate us for not accepting their real selves. It’s a perfect storm of secret rage that torpedoes any possibility of authentic relationships.
The way out is to commit to a different “religion” – that of honesty and sharing. But honesty requires knowing oneself, and we’ve discussed how difficult (and discouraging) that can be. Still, there’s no other way. We are who we’ve BEEN, who we ARE, but also who we WANT to be. And we need to want to be that person for a better reason than it looks good on TikTok or it might exert appeal over someone who turns us on.
Fearful that you’ll be lonely forever? Au contraire! It turns out all of us have been yearning to bask in the comfort, the promise, the safety of reality, a place where growing things can freely evolve and connect, in peace.
SUNBATHER
Poor periwinkle hides within the final spiny spiral of his shell, no stronghold that from hungry file-worms’ whippet tongues nor sun-mad amateur biologists nor ten year olds; while I more evolved, lie among the oval-jointed shells, the sheepswool sponges, camouflage my breasts as comb-jellies, my hair as seaweed, fooling none yet impressing those I can’t deceive.
The Moon = SUBTLE INFLUENCE : “Botticelli’s Simonetta”
“Secret crushing”
The Moon and the Sun have nothing in common. The Moon is a planet, the Sun is a star. The Moon doesn’t give light; it reflects light; it must be tired of being compared to the Sun. What an unfair fight!
The Moon is our hostage, circling us slowly. Balefully. Oh, it has its worshippers. I mean, which would you rather be, Moonstruck or Sun-struck? You can recover from The Moon. The Moon seems manageable; Earth has visited it many times. The Moon is symbolic; vital for poets; unavoidable for lovers. The Moon is the Planet for people who like to sneak around. The Moon manages our tides, but subtly. Cruelly. She is the Queen of passive aggression.
There are two ways to accomplish anything: full-frontal or “sneak attack.” This knowledge, so dear to military strategists, is one of the first things we discovered as children. You rarely get what you want simply by asking for it. Instead, you must study “the target” and determine likely responses. As children, we usually realized it helped if “target” was in a good mood! Bad mood targets say “no” to everything!
But this simple reality has important ramifications for us adult planners: there is also “weather” in the world of human desire and accomplishment. It’s much more difficult to “take off” in a storm. The Moon is visible entirely by borrowed light, but that’s the least important thing about her. Her power may be invisible, but we can feel it in our blood, in our bodies!
There could be no more useful introduction to the potency of Subtle Power. Sometimes in order to achieve our desire we must prepare our target to even hear us. Jesus illustrated this brilliantly in a series of parables anyone would understand. When he was asked a question, he’d tell a story whose moral was obvious. He allowed seekers to answer their own questions by first determining what “paradigm” matched their circumstance.
Plotting the “weather” and analyzing the “players” tells us much of what we need to know when planning to move forward. It can be admirable to lay all our cards on the table, or it can be foolhardy; as men discover who propose on the first date. We’ve been given complex brains. Let’s use them to think strategically.
Do you have a secret crush? Do you know why — or is not knowing an important part of its power over you? What’s influencing you? Where is this pull coming from?
The moon exemplifies subtle power; entrancing its quarry like a sidewinder. That means it’s time to “think outside the box” and take a deep dive into the “hard” wiring of your motives and desires. Just how “hard” is that wiring? Just because it’s “factory-installed” doesn’t mean it can‘t be improved upon.
“Customization” according to your unique requirements is far superior to accepting whatever your biology throws at you. Let’s study our own blueprints with a view to a possible re-design if we don’t like what we see. We all have nonsensical fears, triggers and prejudices; keeping them in darkness allows them to proliferate, even assume command. The Moon is one of the Imposture archetypes (Fireflies is the other) but the moon is more about you posing to fool yourself.
We who seek our Perfect Other Half wish to be free of all that. We want to know what we actually want, what benefits and what harms us and all we want is the ability to speak it honestly. Let’s compare your real self, your desired self and your social self to your desirable self – and learn.
Can you change? This is the most important question, because you’ll have to change to blend smoothly with your other. Resistance to change – to experimentation, to re-design – is the biggest red flag there is. It’s a deal-breaker.
SIMONETTA: Botticelli’s Muse
Ah Simonetta! You were always All the faces; how we
Pity the griffon backed toad Who dreams of you And you alone;
Excepting your fatality – Eyes flint deep, pebble shallow, Thunder lines coiled on Lips pursed tight
A tantrummy child Punishing parents by Refusing to breathe.
As this world is not Perfection you can’t be; Yet somehow you embody
Everything we yearn for; your Pear-hard belly Anticipating ravages;
Unto that scar that splits you twice Equator-wise, spilling out the thistle-tailed phoenix
Who perpetuates your face, spinning Ropes of rubied veins and Clouds of gilded hair –
Arching you back to Burst you, husk and all Against the sun.
Your Soulmate is reaching out to you in dreams. In dreams we discover not just the Other but ourselves. Dreams give the lie to the idea that we are simple biological creatures tethered to rituals of attachment, food foraging, illness and death. In dreams we see visions, and we spend we rest of our lives puzzling out their meaning.
There has not yet been a human culture unaware of the numinous nature of existence. Given the choice between symbol-saturated subjects and simple objects, we go for the symbol every time. We live entirely within our own heads, playing out a story line known to us alone.
Dreams awaken us to different reveries. It is quite possible, as the philosophers suggest, that we are truly asleep in our everyday interactions and only fully conscious in our Dreams. Dreams consolidate the day’s learning with the night’s yearning, forging connections with our deepest selves and with others’ deepest selves, alive and dead. Dreams are the story our primitive self tells our grown-up, social selves.
Dreams don’t necessarily even belong to us but can be “transferred” from those around us, including the dead, and even celebrities (such as literary figures and fictional characters) with whom we have forged an emotional bond. Therefore, the content of the dream, while important, is not as important as the soul from which it originates.
Today we will work on “self-hypnosis;” a process of “asking a question”, relaxing into a “waking trance” and thinking about what bubbles up. Remember not all questions have answers, and few have immediate answers; but it is important to put the question “out there”.
If fear is our primary reaction when we want to study our deepest links with others, that has to be dealt with so that we can move forward in our Soulmate Quest. What do we fear, exactly? We are not at the “mercy” of the universe, we are its “co-creators” and we must bravely claim our birthright.
Dreams are to be welcomed; they are not simply warnings and stories but also teases, in a language we need to learn. Dreams celebrate our spiritual connectivity not just with all the creatures who have ever shared the gift of life but with ideas, group powers and abilities.
They say when we go to sleep in one world, we awake in another. Perhaps it is our Soulmate’s world. Dreams show us our possibilities as well as our fears. I once had a dream in which I looked at myself in my coffin, but it was a powerful “my soul jumps!” experience and not a fearful one. When my son was a tiny boy he described dreamed of driving a truck “and my feet reached the pedals!”
Sometimes we are such beginners we don’t even know what to dream about. Dreams have long been recognized as warnings. Our unconscious sees dangers our conscious self refuses to recognize. So it creates a worthwhile map – not to the way forward, but a method of understanding where you have been. If you are having nightmares about a love choice, this is something to pay attention to. Gavin de Becker tells us (Gift of Fear) to honor our fear, but not to be controlled by it. Move forward with caution.
DREAM OF FREUD’S WOLFMAN
The window opens of its own accord. He’s catapulted forward; waked. Outside, the walnut tree is hung with wolves Each to its branch; they watch him
Blankly. Stillness has its Consequence. They are fat As lambs ready for castration; round As dogs; white as mother’s underdrawers.
Such tails! Thick tails Perked and listening! Blue snow rumples up the bedclothes; stiffens Into plaster. This sky leads nowhere.
The child’s eyes are frozen like the window They do not close; this tree Is butchered at the crown; it will Not grow.
The wind that frosts the room is welcome Stirring like a scream and like a scream It alters what it sees. The wolves levitate.
Dormancy casts us into contemplation, and contemplation heightens our uncertainty. Duality reminds us that meditating on the opposites in our natures must become part of our standard meditation practice. When we desire to bring a soulmate into existence we ask ourselves: what does it mean to be “opposite”?
Consider all sides of this equation; consider, also, that we ourselves create and trigger our own “opposites” so we must observe the infinite potential conceived by the opposite of intention, designed by the opposite of desire, spawning the opposite of Being itself.
It is human to want two conflicting and contradictory things at once. When we “choose” any one thing, we give its shadow power. We still “want” the neglected thing: perhaps more than ever now that we can no longer “have” it. This can’t “hurt” us so long as we’re aware of it.
We must expect the path not taken to rear up in our dreams and stake its claim to our life. When we see it, we dismiss it again: “Begone, I don’t want you. I have not chosen you.” Every time we make this statement we diminish its force a tiny bit. The worst thing we can do is become its advocate: “Maybe that’s not so bad. Why can’t I have both?” If we make that mistake we are setting up a vicious circle of longing for the way not chosen; we may decide we are more about the bad choices than the good ones: “I just can’t help myself.” Speak the words “Begone. You have no power over me. I have not chosen you.”
Every time we say them they become a little bit more true. We have the right to become good souls by design, not monsters controlled by appetite alone.
Approach/Avoidance. Fear/Attraction. Love/Hate. We feel all these emotions at the same time, swirling together to form a new emotion, ambivalence, which some of us try to negotiate using experimentation, “safe words”, role play. It’s possible; but rigidity is always to be distrusted. If we are manipulating a series of masks to hide behind our purpose is automatically defeated.
What is that purpose? Self-knowledge. Self-revelation. Authenticity, followed by the bliss of Other-knowledge; other-revelation. And the fact that, together, soulmates become a multiplied force of never-yet-seen-in-the-history-of-the-world power and personhood. To achieve this goal, we learn to accept and know, tolerate, negotiate, master and revel in the wilderness within each of us and the wilderness we create together.
This course can be fearful, even shaming. We will decide several times a day: “This is too much for me”, “I can’t do this,” “I’m not good at this.” How dare I release you when I can’t release me? How can I create you when I can’t create me?” We dare. We can. With the ultimate result that we release and create, Us.
The Sideways Smile
I heard you singing and remembered All the things that you’d forgotten Seeing you clearly – like A fish in a hailstone.
Seeing your hands Long for a man I always thought Your upper lip too short Like a lion’s – in fact You have an animal presence –
Placing no trust in words Placing no trust in love Pretending you’d never met me Creating islands undiscovered Worlds unreachable;
You were the joke I didn’t get; I recall your sideways smile Blowing smoke between us Refusing to forgive the essential fragility that Marks us humans;
Fated as you were Always surrendering To the scornful cries of your Invisible hecklers.
Winter’s force is shrouded, subtle. This unfolding happens on the universe’s timeline, not ours. There’s a lot of downtime – “thinking time.” Plenty of space for self doubt to creep in.
All the important changes are happening just beyond our vision. The snowshoe rabbit changes fur to pure white for self-protection; he doesn’t have to think about it; it just happens. Other creatures work a little harder.
Our art teacher always told us to value the white spaces, because they throw color and design into sharper relief, and so it is with winter. Finally, we see all things in clear perspective. Suddenly the humble woodpecker becomes a most exotic bird.
Adventuresome humans love winter where gravity meets speed; we are always flying down one hill or another. And when we get to the bottom, we do it again! The thing I like best about winter is that it holds the promise of spring, tight in its protectively furled bud.
Under the quiet surface much is happening, but little may be visible. (Psychologists call this “latency”.) Winter bears a real similarity to the state we call “sleep.” We yearn for sleep, even find it exciting, and researchers are constantly uncovering more benefits that it provides. It seems to “clean” our brains the way winter “cleans” the world!
Winter has its own exotic creatures, the polar bear, the snow leopard, the precious ermine. These creatures seem magical to us as they make a living on the harshest landscapes.
“Dormancy” is a necessary phase for anything living thing. All our energy is being conserved for maximum growth. We must ask ourselves: what is this thing that is gathering power? Is it a long desired consummation or some threateningly impossible monster?
We remind ourselves that explorers saw the same “ice” bear we consider so adorable as a “monster.” Melville’s deadly whale was “white”. Perhaps beauty and monstrosity are flip sides of the same coin. What is happening to us? What do we want to happen? The real question is, Is our unconscious “for” us or against us?
Jung said when we analyze our subconscious, it analyzes us: a marvelous phrase suggesting growth is a back-and-forth tennis match between our known and unknown selves. “Winter” gives us a chance to greet the unknown self and cuddle up with her. Much to think about!
After our burst of energy planting seeds in searching for a soulmate, it may seem the world’s inert. But seeds are “taking hold.” The Bible reminds us that some will grow and some will not. We ourselves don’t know what we have planted and what it will look like when it finally enters sunlight.
Once again, it’s all about us; how patient can we be? How do we handle uncertainty in this uncertain world? Can we relax against changes of pace, lessening of control, confusion? As we search for our “forever” person we need to BECOME a “forever person.”
This is very unfamiliar, so of course we move slowly. No kneejerk reactions of anger or despair. There’s a joke about a motorist stranded without gas, carrying his can to a nearby farm but worried the farmer won’t cooperate. The motorist gets so angry at this imagined exchange that when he sees the farmer, he throws the gas can at him, screaming, “Keep your old gas!”
He couldn’t “tolerate” the walk to the farmhouse without doubt, fear and shame sabotaging his thoughts. Let’s not handle our period of dormancy in that way. Let’s use it to toughen up. Sharpen up. Sweeten up, like maple syrup in the tree.
TOO LATE IN THE YEAR
The mind is double-edged as well as double-eyed She thinks; stands outside to watch him Sightlessly within; Safe within his private storm he Covers sheets with runes, Purloined plans from somewhere else; Plagiarized love-letters – Sexual ivy casting Hawks-wing shadows on his bloodhound cheeks; That smile is too cautious; Too familiar; In season and out; Nurtured like his scars Deepening like his drama. Save him, save him voices cry but I know better; it’s too late Too late in the year.
In the Tantric Garden, Sex is sacred. In blindness we reach out to touch, to connect. This garden of existence demands that we inhale life through our every pore, and the central need of life is that we must share the flame that warms us or risk its ultimate extinction. There could be no garden without the mystery and joy of pollination and propagation; doubling and tripling not just our chances of survival but intensifying our savor and our senses.
The garden becomes a hugely hungry mouth, a pulsating groin, and we moan with it. The shock of the sublime. To live the dream is to become the dream. We are constituted for pleasure; igniting and increasing pleasure in a firework display that mimic the creation of the universe itself. Relationships solidify; two strengthen into one; frail flesh solidifies and love itself becomes unbreakable.
Spring is mating. We are searching for our lost half, our better AND our worse self. As we transform from a helpless to an intentional person, we seek the self we have been all along, as they seek themselves in us.
The shadow=DISSONANCE “Considering the Chill Factor
“Confronting your shadow self”
We were very young when first we became aware of The Shadow. No happy moment, no celebration of joy is unaffected by its subtle miasma. But what is it exactly?
Much of childhood – history itself, in fact – is absorbed by the effort to put a name to this lurking angst.
Demonic forces, bad dreams, animals, reptiles, insects, The Invisible – entire populations of seemingly foreign persons have been stigmatized by this label. Which is not to say that somebody, somewhere, didn’t experience trouble from the reality of these forces.
Philosophers tell us that all we’re feeling is an inherent fear of death, but we can see that fear itself is hardwired into species who are otherwise unselfconscious of the limitations of existence. Perhaps all we have to fear is Fear itself, as the President put it. But who would willingly wish to walk fearless through this dangerous world? Isn’t it better to be prepared and take care?
A great man once advised us to be as wily as serpents and as gentle as doves. Good advice for gardeners! The knowledge that joy is fragile heightens its ecstatic power. Without this triple vision of past, possibility and future courage itself would be impossible.
Suspicion – There is something behind us. We can feel its unsettling presence. It seems to follow us everywhere, teasing a fine line between doubt and paranoia. In medieval times this “shadow” was represented by The Grim Reaper, complete with cape and scythe, reminding us the party would soon be over. We are warned to “Take care” by friends and loved ones; but against what exactly?
Doctors tell us to be vigilant about our health while at the same time they mock hypochondriacs. There are people who never “take care” and who insist that suspicion itself creates the monster, but on the whole, these people are not enviable. They appear to have rejected a “sixth sense” we’re all born with. Who would willfully blind themselves?
For those of us committed to exploring all our senses suspicion shadows joy as doubt shadows faith. Visually, shadows show us where things are. Like taste testers cultivating knowledge of the edge between sweet and sour we “feel” for the “turn” of the tide. The better to avoid it? Possibly to control it? At least to get an image – however brief – of the Thing that has been following, following?
Ascetics need particularly to arm themselves with some sense of when “just enough” turns into “too much.” Many authorities try to convince us that being a little “hungry” is a good thing. Certainly being “sated” triggers a drowsy, relaxed, state in which our “guard” is down. We do lose consciousness of that quiet little “frenemy” following. Following. The Shadow symbolizes a problematic development just coming into perceptive range.
Jung says we all seek our opposite, our “shadow self.” Feminists want house-husbands, wall street traders want supermodels. We yearn to recover our disavowed selves, blindly, subconsciously. Online profiles request specific “looks”, weights, backgrounds, experiences as if “soulmate” was a job. Yet we remain dissatisfied; feel shortchanged. Perhaps the shadow is fear of change. The thoughtful among us blame ourselves: “I’m not right”; the shallow blame the world: “I can never get what I want.”
The truth is we are judging plants by seeds when what we want are gardeners. We want to become gardeners, we wish to BE the garden. But how on earth can we do THAT?
Absence of understanding OR language renders our circumstances hopeless. We need another singer who will help construct a duet that doesn’t yet exist, a fellow artist of the sexual, the subconscious, the unconscious, who paints us as we photograph them. We need to be prepared to change places in a moment, to sing and redesign the other’s part. We must be willing dreamers with a huge repository of fantasy, fearless poets accessing a universal vocabulary. We will fall in love, then out of it, fall deeper, soar. It will feel uncomfortable and unfamiliar at every point as we blend swiftly changing roles of tutor and pupil. Prepare yourself to plunge into another and become them, as they remodel you.
CONSIDERING THE CHILL FACTOR
Considering the chill factor As I always try to do – That day was hot Too hot for love or war.
We sit in restaurants. I pick The blue-veined shrimp He picks the black-veined news.
Outside drunkards Carom off the plexiglass like entertaining fish. “They envy us” I say and Andrew says “How nice.”
I see a couple coming in; she holds him up As I so often upheld you. I know that touch – like surgeons who manipulate the dying.
She wears my dress the one I wore the day you Shamed me Stuck me sizzling to the sidewalk – Shamed us both with red red stains.
“Andrew I don’t think I have quite forgiven you.” Andrew says “How nice” and Lays his coffee spoon upon the cloth – I hate the brown stain – it spreads like murder Like the bad smell of death Breeding fumes as we do Corpses in the sun.
I rise to speak Shrimp spewing from my mouth like Parasites. “We have always been So happy, you and I-“
Alysse Aallyn 