Inspiration

Second of three Breaths on connection.  Last week I wrote of maintaining the dynamic center as we connect new and old.  This week it’s about seeing the dots, for how we perceive something changes our capacity to do something about it.  Last night I watched a show on mathematical fractals.  Not knowing the first thing on the subject, I was fascinated by the concept, but more than that was hearing someone’s ability to see something entirely new, to call a vision into being from a totally unknown place. It fits with the concept, ‘when we are ready the teacher appears.’  So how do we make ourselves ready for new visions, new teachers?  How do we not let our eyes only travel old ruts?  How do we beckon new dots to take us on unknown paths of connection?  We are in a world of infinite possibilities and connection.  It’s part of our malaise, too many dots, too much choice, too little time for profound consideration, The noise and tumult, the unrelenting assault on the senses make connecting the dots we need and desire very difficult. Because my mind is fractal-full, I’m turning to nature for answers because that is what the fractal masters saw.  Benoit Mandelbrot, who originated the concept, perceived that the mathematical equations impeccably imitated nature.  Spider’s webs are some of the strongest, most delicate constructs known. Their tensile power can carry enormous weight and opposition. They are fractals. The heart is like that in its ability to carry huge loads, yet remain delicately poised, beating its perfectly imperfect rhythm…. it is also a fractal equation. Perhaps when we see from the heart, when we hold polarities delicately, with the flexibility of non-judgment, and maintain the powerful muscle required to stay on course we possess the possibility to stay well-connected? What in nature……

 December 6, 2010    First of three December Breaths on connection When the wind blows, will we scatter?  When the hammer descends, will we flatten? When someone says , “You’re more disappointing than the bottom half of a mermaid.”  Do we feel unworthy?  Or laugh, and know ourselves beautiful, tail et all? What holds a dynamic center?  Those made of ‘sterner stuff’ may find that these days the core has become too stern and rigid, fighting fear and risk.  Perhaps the demand is not to be made of the sterner stuff but to move loosely and connect unexpected dots from a flexible POV? We are all under some hammer, waiting for the next blow, scattering in fierce, chaotic winds, or swimming like mad for new shores.  If the last is the case, be pleased with a mermaid’s (merman’s) tail. Therein lies a secret.  Making a space to grow strange appendages to dive deep seas of emotional change can be what saves us. When the known home does not hold in the same comforting way. We cannot return again on the same mindless paths.  We cannot find balance in stale, accustomed habits, for the true center is dynamic, in a constant state of give and take.  Each new cycle requires we move from and toward home ground in willing to risk not knowing how. How to ask the heart for courage?  How to remain vulnerable when  fear-filled?  If anything sends us packing back to a rigid Self, it’s fear.  The terror of not being enough, or not being accepted are blueprints for rigor mortis. *Five possible ways and means to grow a courageous heart… and a georgous tail. Make space to breathe deeply, and consciously.  Feel powerful. When cold winds rage, stick your head out the door, (in a fabulous hat of course) but make sure your feet are glued to a warm……

Rib bones picked clean under a desert sky, finger bones sucked of their sweet marrow, and skulls stacked in columns, legacy of ancient rites are within and side by side to young bones, tender under soft skin, and high cheek bones stating beauty, hip bones swaying to and fro in warm winds, and brittle bones walking peacefully toward dust.  Bones are powerful images of life and death, of the wonder of the body, and the wonder of the not-body. Their DNA holds memory of every shared step and thought, of dreams hoped for, and dreams dropped by the wayside to die. They are the structure that holds us to living the life entrusted to us. Families and friends sit within bone marrow, feeding its dense richness. As we gather around the turkey-carcass this year, let us sit in thanks with those who have seen us grow, those who cherish and offer us the last slice of pie, along with those who fight us to the death over the wishbone. There are endless tablescapes, gatherings of solid, flamboyant, vagrant kin, their memories entwined with ours, their knowledge and thoughts part of our structure and pattern. When we are lucky, our lives live through, with, away, in and toward each precious, precocious, pitiful relationship. We are divine, and desperate, bags of bones held together by standing together. I will remember you as you remember me, for we have shared more than tears and laughter, we share breath and heart, perhaps even a turkey carcass. I know my life has not passed by because the rich mulch of our relationship is in and of my bones. Energetic Forces Asana:  Goddess Pose.  Standing with legs wide, feet open out, take a breath and as you exhale, descend, bending knees, open thighs back, keeping knees……

Last week I wrote of the many layers, the pentimento, creating a life.   This week I’m dancing with cycles, literally, for I have just completed choreographing new piece on the Wellesley College Dancers to old time songs. They embody the needs and musical focus of the late 30’s, early 40’s, which was another cycle of similar extremism.   Then, it contained the rise of Fascism, Nazism, the great depression, and undercurrents leading to the Second World War. People were frightened, life was chaotic, with nations & politicians making bad choices from emotional hot beds. The outer planets, which move the world slowly and inexorably into enormous change, were extraordinarily alike in energy and connection to present day set up. Whether we are aware of it or not, corresponding issues and changes symbolic of that time are presenting themselves again, pushing the world toward destabilization and over-reaction. We have the Tea Party, the pull and polarizing of politicos using fear as a goad. Many lack jobs as companies make money with fewer people, hard-running those employed with the terror of no job. The rich are growing very rich, and the middle class is failing. The poor have fallen.  We have seeminly lost any affable ability to listen to one another, or seek equality for all.  Nation-states, of large ego and little means, cannot come together over conference tables.   The old dust bowl is the new lack of water and over-population. This does not mean we have to make the same bad choices. It means we have to become more aware of our choices, especially aware of fear pushing those choices to hang on tight to the old way.  We are co-creating our world, working through enormous challenges, and we need to take help where we find it. One of the really wonderful gifts from, and because of the desperation during the……

When a momentous event grabs the scruff of our necks and without warning, hurls us into new space, quite often unbidden thoughts, sounds, and visions laminate themselves in a collage from the past.  These overlays, formed from un-processed, precious, and often seemingly non-essential childhood memories, fast forward into full view when emotions are stirred.  At these times we can no longer keep the lid down. Bottom layers are up-ended, and this disturbance allows years of bleed-through to become visible, One can only deal with three to four major emotional issues in a life , so the same ones are cut, poked and exacerbated over and over, with only the form changing, not the wound’s essential energy.  We all tend to bury pain.  This makes a treasure trove of angst, regret, fear, and sorrow that waits until defenses are down. The times are ripe for revelation.  The planetary kingdom is demanding change, and true change only comes from the inside-out. Wounding-gifts that form our fine paintings seek new definition, and  revelation, We are lucky when opportunity knocks, hard knocks to be sure, but this allow us see original lines drawn under old paint, The transparency of age allows vision of the pentimento, the layers of what we have repented, and re-painted over the jagged edges and dodgy outlines of the childhood.  Are these visions not steps toward heaven? Energetic Forces Asana: Setu Bandha Sarvangasana-Bridge Pose. Lying on the back, bend knees, bringing feet in parallel, and as close to buttocks as possible. On exhale press feet down and curl tailbone up, lifting lower, then upper back off floor.  Keep thighs parallel and lengthen knees away from hips, lift pubis toward navel.  Clasp hands under back, bringing shoulders closer together.  Keep weight off the neck.  As you advance in this pose, try to release……

Liquid amber light, Fallen from trees Too full to hold Indian Yellow- Cad Red- Burnt Sienna, Quivers the air, Drawn from a sky Tumbling up from the ground Exuberance imploding Leaving life layer upon layer. Some remain. I remain Wondering Will my death to be thus? A last leaf with jewel encrusted seams sewn delicately to my branch In hand over hand stitching, Exquisite silken luxe Heavy toward dying, Wrestling October winds In last will to glory, Fulsome as the Carmine raiment Of a Three-Tailed Pasha Readied for his funeral procession. .