Blue

by Joan Miro

"The gods live in a blue place of metaphor... 

The mind from the beginning must be based in the blue firmament, like the lazuli stone and sapphire throne on mysticism, the azure heaven of Boehme, philos sophia. The blue firmament is an image of cosmological reason; it is a mythical place that gives metaphorical support to metaphysical thinking... 

Alchemy begins... in the blue vault, the seas, in the mind's thinking in images, imagining ideationally, speculatively, silveredly, in words that are both images and ideas, ... the blue power of the word itself, which locates this consciousness in the throat of the visuddha cakra whose dominant color is a smoky purple-blue.

...Your mind moves in the caelum, touches the constellations, the thick and hairy skull opens to let in more light, their light, making possible a new idea of order, a cosmological imagination whose thought accounts for the cosmos in the forms of images."

    —from "Blue," by James Hillman

Postmodern Hymn: Time out of Mind

via SCA German Renaissance

This groovy tune promises some very exciting transformations, if we would only keep our eyes on the sky and recognize the light in our eyes. 

"Tonight when I chase the dragon

The water will change to cherry wine

And the silver will turn to gold

Time out of mind"

The phrase "chasing the dragon" can refer to using heroine, but  I choose to see a much lovelier meaning, which has nothing to do with chemically-enhanced states of being. For this song, I'm happy to do some creative misreading.

Personal Myth 4: The Return

The Return, by me

I think it's time to conclude this series. My four-part creation myth ends with the mystery of what death might mean. I don't pretend to have any answers about life after death, but I feel that it works best in my life as an alchemical step within a greater process. As a necessary part of life on earth, death allows for the recycling of materials, and this can happen on a variety of levels, not just the biological level. The place that is most rotten within us is the very place that can lead to new growth and new life!

What happens to us personally after we die? I leave that for others to say. I once had a dream, though, in which a girl cast a spell on a two lovers: their hearts crystallized into the stars, and their bodies dissolved into the night sky.

Stars and Aims

Libra, by Mikalojus Ciurlionis
from his Zodiac Cycle

"I feel my fate; my fate finds me.
I feel my star; my star finds me.
I feel my aims; my aims find me.
My soul and the world are one. . . .

Life will be clearer around me.
Life will be more burdensome for me.
Life will be richer for me."
    —excerpt from "The wishes of the soul are springing," by Rudolph Steiner

I've been feeling lots of uncertainty lately. My job, which inevitably grounds my day, is in the midst of change,  but what kind of change I truly cannot say. I find myself becoming resolved to find my way, to find an anchor and not let life cast me about, if that's not my choosing. I feel like if I work hard enough, the anchor will find me. Not that the anchor will make life any easier, but I think the sensation of grounding above chaotic waves will feel sweet and victorious.

Love Will Be Preserved

Emblem 9 (of 12) from the
1752 Hermaphrodite Child of the Sun and Moon
by unknown alchemist L.C.S.,
reproduced by Adam McLean
via Unurthed

"Only what has turned to love in your life will be preserved."
    —Rule for a New Brother

4: Earth and Harmony

"Diamond in a Square" Quilt Top
via Cowan's

Let's continue on with the number series based on The Beginner's Guide to Constructing the Universe by Michael Schneider. 

With number four comes the square, the symbol of matter and stability—four directions, four seasons, four elements (reinterpreted by Schneider as solid, liquid, gas, and plasma), and so on. 

Part of the beauty of the square is the way it can be diminished or expanded by using its midpoints to create a diamond or using its endpoints as the midpoints of a bigger diamond. 

This expanding and diminishing pattern makes a great metaphor for the common saying "as above, so below": as we see the pattern in the physical world, so can we look creatively into our inner worlds to see patterns of fourness. Jung saw four psychological functions: thinking, feeling, intuition, and sensation (see his Psychological Types). Schneider describes Adam's dominion over the earth as mastery over the four elements of his inner nature. 

Part of me feels uncomfortable with the assertions of that last paragraph, that there is truly some fourfold aspect to our psyches, but I do think these metaphors can be helpful. If we can learn from the harmony outside of us, perhaps we can transform our inner lives to be more harmonious as well.

Imitating the Habit of Twilight

Untitled landscape, by Rabindranath Tagore

I've been feeling at odds with time lately. I say 'lately' not because my racing around is an entirely new feeling, but rather the same old feeling has been stronger the past few weeks, despite my best intentions to slow down. I know I'm partially making up for a few weekends of missed productivity, and I know I'm also being too concerned with getting everything done.

John O'Donohue has gave a fantastic interview with Krista Tippet of On Being, where he described stress as "a perverted relationship with time." A harmonious relationship with time, in his view, is being a subject within time and seeing the "deep heart" of time, which is possibility and transfiguration. It's such a beautiful thought, to see time as our invisible friend instead of our cruel tormentor. 

John O'Donohue also has a beautiful blessing for "one who is exhausted." Here is the end of it:

"Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time."

Ritual for a Bad Day

Cherry Blossom, by Kirra Jamison
via Black Eiffel

Some days just throw it all at you, and all you can do is go with the flow. Here is my ritual for a bad day:

1. Listen to Joni Mitchell sing about laughing it all away.

2. Look at art that looks back at you. Looking at Kirra Jamison's art is like having a conversation with all the magic in the world.

3. Cuddle your dog after a good walk, and trade your worried human mind for calm dog mind. 

4. Eat the most colorful food you can find.

Music, art, food, love are the things that can reorient your whole day. I'd seek these types of "rituals" out even on a good day, but there's something about having a bad day that makes you cling/take refuge to those things you know to be good for you.

Bringing Forth What Is Within

via Vintage Fan Girl

Elaine Pagels has been making the rounds to publicize her latest book on the Book of Revelation, and in listening to and reading some of her interviews, I've been reminded of her past work with gnostic texts. One of her favorite passages from the Gospel of Thomas is also one of my favorites:

"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."

How's that for a short Easter message? What a beautiful celebration and affirmation of life! The message fits with so many philosophies that inspire me. Allow what's within you, whether it's shadowy or angelic, to be integrated within you, and you will be reborn, and you will see the world with new eyes.

Dance Till You Feel Better

I remember watching this clip from So Think You Can Dance years ago, and I still think it's one of the best moments from the show. When I watch Will Wingfield dance this solo, I feel like I'm listening to a gospel choir. His dancing has a beautiful synchronicity between between the music and the lyrics, and it really does make me want to get up and dance.

Golden Rule

Golden Rule Poster, by Koen, age 6

via Studio on Fire

And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of." (Matt 18:3)

When I think of grown ups becoming like little children, I usually don't think of them in positive terms--usually a childish adult comes across as petulant and insecure. But isn't there a better side of childishness, too? One that involves a willingness to laugh, to change focus instantaneously, to see the good in others? What aspects of children do you most admire?

Sacred Space: St. Stephen's Church

Let's travel up to the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming, to visit St. Stephen's Church.

St. Stephen's Church, in Arapahoe, Wyoming

Writing about these kinds of places can never be easy. The forced conversion of native peoples, the banning of their religious rituals, and the general taking of their land is reprehensible. In spite of these facts, though, my first reaction when I saw St. Stephen's Church was one of joy. How wonderful that the artist, Raphael Norse, used his cultural background to transform the church. I really appreciate these allowed forms of diversity, and I wish there was more of it.

Having inherited religious traditions that I'm not so sure I agree with, buildings like this give me hope that there is some room for creative reinterpretation. (Don't be pessimistic and tell me these reinterpretations are just window dressings . . . )

How would you paint your place of worship? 

A Short Mantra

The Tale of the Golden Toad, by Madeline Von Foerster 

May I bring . . .

good out of evil, hope from hopelessness, meaning from absurdity, and save what appeared to be lost.

(via the Enneagram website)

Messy, Alchemical Art

Sugar Bowl, by Adele Shaw
via Inclusions Gallery

I met Adele Shaw at a museum I visited in San Francisco years ago. I remember thinking how amazing it was to talk to an artist about her work and how important it was to not say anything stupid. I remember her smiling.

At the time, she was working on a project called "oology." Luckily I've saved my postcard, because I can't find images online anywhere. I thought it was beautiful work; I still love how embodied and playful it is, and how delicate it is, too.

Scanned postcard from Adele Shaw's "oology" exhibit

Now it seems she works mainly on canvas, but still with beeswax. In her own words:

"My painting is a influenced by the power of nature and inspired by the chaos of people’s chronic search for order, space, and story. 

I paint first with water colors, then with encaustic paint, layers of hot beeswax, pigment and resin. I coerce it onto paintings as a hot, drippy, excitable mess. . . . 

Encaustic painting is an alchemical process of extreme versatility. It is both additive and subtractive. It can be painted, sculpted, or moulded. Between the layers the process is quite unpredictable."

Inner Work, Body Work

Saint Margaret and the Dragon
via Orbs of Zenith

"One who has conquered the mind, senses and passions, thought and reason, is a king." . . . or queen . . . "He or she has Inner Light."

    —Light on Yoga, by B. K. S. Iyengar

I'm not sure how I feel about the word "conquered" . . . I might choose a word like "befriended," but anyway I think this is a good reminder of the process of integration. More to come on this!

Recipe for Transforming Bitterness

Bitterness is a very dangerous sentiment. It can build up quickly until your heart is a pickled, shriveled little thing. It's something I truly fear, so you can imagine how thrilled I was to discover this recipe for transforming bitterness in one of my latest reads.

Excerpt from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta, by Joris Hoefnagel
via rbs of Zenith

Transforming Bitterness

Ingredients

• bitterness
• pessimistic outlook
• frozen anger

Procedure

1. Settle into your life and the moment. Breathe.
2. Taste the raw ingredients and accept the onslaught of yuck.
3. Combine your life with the lives of others, dogs, flowers, bugs, and moon. It helps to do this with a curious frame of mind.
4. From this creative life energy, open your life to eternal possibility.
5. Your heart should now be a little more springy, like a cake.

Excerpt from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta, by Joris Hoefnagel
via nends

Stone vs. Tree

Yellow Birch, Adirondacks, by Michael Melford for National Geographic

The giant pine tree
grows from a tiny sprout.
The journey of a thousand miles
starts from beneath your feet.
    —Tao Te Ching, 64


On reading the passage above, this Westerner immediately thought "Oh, this means I should set a goal and work towards it little by little." But I don't think Taoists sages were very goal-oriented! (I think their disposition had something to do with desiring to have no desire . . . ) The goals of Taoism seems much less will-driven.

So what's the moral of the story? Patiently cultivate your life, appreciate the miracles that can come in the tiniest packages, and welcome the surprising twists that come along the journey.

Here's the full text:

What is rooted is easy to nourish.
What is recent is easy to correct.
What is brittle is easy to break.
What is small is easy to scatter.

Prevent trouble before it arises.
Put things in order before they exist.
The giant pine tree
grows from a tiny sprout.
The journey of a thousand miles
starts from beneath your feet.

Rushing into action, you fail.
Trying to grasp things, you lose them.
Forcing a project to completion,
you ruin what was almost ripe.

Therefore the Master takes action
by letting things take their course.
He remains as calm
at the end as at the beginning.
He has nothing,
thus has nothing to lose.
What he desires is non-desire;
what he learns is to unlearn.
He simply reminds people
of who they have always been.
He cares about nothing but the Tao.
Thus he can care for all things.
    —Tao Te Ching, 64, translated by Stephen Mitchella

For more "tree takeovers" see this flickr gallery.

Sacred Space: Chartres Cathedral

It's time for another pilgrimage, friends!

This time, we'll visit the great cathedral of Chartres, completed in 1290. (My husband and I visited the cathedral just this summer, while it was undergoing renovations. It's amazing how light the stone became when renovated; it's a completely different space--light and happy. We're looking forward to seeing again some day when the renovations are complete.)

Chartres is famous for its beautiful, old stained glass. Much of it is a gorgeously rich blue color. Besides the lovely colors, the artists creatively portrayed the classic stories of the Bible. One of the most famous windows is called the "Blue Virgin." Below her are panels depicting Christ's temptations and the wedding at Cana. (Isn't it a lovely transformational image? struggle with the shadow → marriage of opposites → wisdom...)

The "Blue Virgin" of Chartres, taken by me

Chartres is also famous for its labyrinth, which visitors can still walk along each Friday in the summer. I love labyrinths, because they symbolize the great faith required in spiritual wandering. As you walk, you wonder, when will I reach the center? But the beautiful thing is, you always do reach the center, the rose of enlightenment. You're never lost.

from the book Alle Tiders Labyrinter, by Jørgen Thordrup, via Lavigne

Whooo are youuu?

The caterpillar asks Alice, "Who are you?"
Alice and the Caterpillar, by the Emily Martin, aka the Black Apple

I came across a lovely article by Anne Lamotte on Oprah's website (via Medicinal Marzipan).

I love that Anne describes the process of coming to live authentically as an often messy, embarrassing, painful process. Because if you're really wanting to see transformation, it's going to take courage.

Alice and the Piglet, by Emily Martin

The Mad Tea Party, by Emily Martin

Read the whole article; it's so worth it! And then ponder the last two sentences with me, because they're too poetic to not become a sort of mantra:

"To love yourself as you are is a miracle, and to seek yourself is to have found yourself, for now. And now is all we have, and love is who we are."

Still Life with Live Flowers, by Emily Martin

Mindful Consumption

A recent conversation has me thinking about what I choose to consume. This blog is in part a response to a desire to consume information more mindfully on the internet. But it is easy to passively allow all sorts of degrading messages to flood into the mind via the usual outlets: television, radio, computer, and one's one inner monologue. Thus, I'm posting Thich Nhat Hahn's Fifth Mindfulness Training, to remind myself of one way to be healthier.

"The Mist," in Dreamer of Dreams, illustrated by Edmund Dulac
via Sue du Jour

"Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful consumption, I am committed to cultivate good health, both physical and mental, for myself, my family, and my society by practising mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. I am committed to ingest only items that preserve peace, well-being, and joy in my body, in my consciousness, and in the collective body and consciousness of my family and society. I am determined not to use alcohol or any other intoxicant or to ingest foods or other items that contain toxins, such as certain TV programs, magazines, books, films, and conversations. I am aware that to damage my body or my consciousness with these poisons is to betray my ancestors, my parents, my society, and future generations. I will work to transform violence, fear, anger, and confusion in myself and in society by practising a diet for myself and for society. I understand that a proper diet is crucial for self-transformation and for the transformation of society."

    —Thich Nhat Hahn, on the Five Mindfulness Trainings, via The Big View

"Dreamland," by Edmund Dulac, via Art Passions