This book, The Cape Doctor by E.J. Levy, is a foundational piece of the enactment of LIVING the Divine Feminine in the world.
The living cadence Moira-internal-resonance of the rhythm of the words is purely from the Creative Wellspring. The feel is proetic, full-on poetic cadences and rhythm in prose. So viscerally easy to experience fully in its pain and love and sorrow and volcanic splendors of beauty. I found the overall story to be a poem of life barely veiled in prose which lives in support of a life-affirming spirituality for any gender. Resonating with innate value, I was touched to the core, the Eros of life itself full-on engaged viscerally in the experience.
The Cape Doctor lives at the level of the power of Rainer Maria Rilke’s The Panther. Important story? No, nope, and certainly not. It’s not important. It’s necessary for health like beauty. Reason indicates here that reasons of importance are unreasonable. Here… Here is a story that is full-on in support of the Creative Principle and personal evolution from the Divine Feminine and its importance in life.
Here, with The Cape Doctor we have a prescient presence in the insight of a life being lived fully, intentionally, and maybe even with more trouble, though that trouble is not wasted as diamonds are made from circumstances rather than from misfortunes.
I felt I was filled by this story directly from the Master Gardener of the Creative Wellspring, just a pure pour into my experiential vessel. This story wonderfully dances with the likes of The Secret Garden with a fluid fluency. Here, with E.J. Levy we have a master writer’s voice and robust story indelible to the psychological experience of life… It’s not that its words do not disappoint. It’s that its story tells life IN its living full-on Both~And rather than either/or.
Fall in love with the masterpieces, and also with the paint on the(ir) floor.
~ Morgan Harper Nichols
Is home where you hang your hat? Yup, and home is also where you WEAR your hat. I love the process of things. Love not wasting trouble. Love being the eye in my own storm, and when the shit hits the fan being even more calm and present. I also love making diamonds out of misfortune.
You see, I have good times, and not-wasting-trouble times. Sometimes a mix of both. And, I of course have troubles, though with my “always complete, never finished, lifelong” attitude… all that tends to simply enhance my decision making these days… fleshes out the Architecture of My Well-Being more. I don’t always agree with Walt Disney’s process of mining the Unconscious Playground, though his process is not mine to agree or disagree with. It was his process not mine. I don’t get any say in that. I do full-on resonate, though, with his, “Worry is a waste of imagination.” It is. It’s like diet avoidance. When you worry, you don’t even have to get around to the avoidance part. One just freezes. DAYum does that put the PRO in PROcrastinator. Un uh. Not for me. I’d rather experience it all. The good, the bad, the… all of it.
When one focuses too much on the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in their fellows, they make an opening in the heart for maliciousness to enter. Testing, competing with, and criticizing others weakens and defeats you. The sacred sword, sharp and bright, allows no opening for maliciousness to enter, no place for it to roost.
~ Morihei Ueshiba, Founder of Aikido. From “The Art of Peace”
Yup, worry, along with general shame prior to anything having happened to be ashamed of are two of my fave top candidates for things in life that need to be made to walk the plank. Dun nuh. The sharks must be fed! Oh, add anxiety to that list. Things are good in threes, the 1st self-supporting structural shape, the 1st number of beauty. So, lets magnetize the bs iron filing chatter of anxiety into this grouping. I did this years ago. You know what, though. I’m glad I don’t get tired of the re-run. I take the moment or several if they arise, less and less these days, to dial in and raise the sword and WALK! Walk that plank. You know your job is to be shark food. Go on. Git now! Jumpy Jumpy Yummy Yummy. I bless the times when you 3 don’t exist. Amen.
… and, some recent images along this past chapter… as I move to Taos, and also Bobcat Pass above Red River. Love that sitting on my cabin couch in Bobcat Pass, the elevation is 9,900 on the dot. Love 9s.
‘Until’ is Non-Existent
I was standing in line waiting to order a Very Berry blueberry smoothie at CiCi’s before setting up my rig, and a woman leaned over and, “My My this LINE and WAIT is an exercise in patience.” I just turned and calmly looked at her, though most likely pursed my lips. I held the gaze. Finally, she repeated herself. I smiled and, “Oh, I heard you the 1st time, though I had to call an inner intermission before I spoke. You see, I don’t have patience, at all. I made it walk the plank along with shame. I’m allergic to boredom, so lines and waits like this just give me more time to work on what I was working on already as I walked around. You know? The walk and chew gum thing. This is much more focused.” She was evidently quizzed, and she surprised me. You saw her shoulders drop, and a relaxed feel cascade through her. Her husband leaned over her shoulder, “Honey, looks like he helped you finally get here to our vacation.” She beamed and her hand went up to his cheek as she looked at me and, “Thank you. What a wonderful attitude that is. I think I’ll try it.”
You can also utilize this attitude, this mode of being to protect yourself from having to be protected. No reason to have your Working Walks interrupted by some petty thief. Heck, carry a practical joke if you have pets. Example? Like this woman. Love this!
So, I walked
So, I received my Very Berry smoothie healthy hydration dose from CiCi’s and walked about 50 feet down to…
… set up my rig on the John Dunn Plaza Shops Plaza, with (proper) signage arriving late tomorrow. If you’re in Taos, and it’s not raining, I just might be there. Stop by and get a Tarot reading for the Architecture of Your Well-Being and/or chat. Gandhi and Daniel Cortes WOW-tasting ‘Bomb Street’ food cart is right across from me, as is also the Bent Street Cafe just across the way. They squeeze fresh juice each day when they are there — Tuesdays through Saturdays I think. I’m right in front of Op. Citi. Books, and the Seconds Eco Store is mid-plaza. I recommend all of them.
Manana Doesn’t Mean Tomorrow
It’s Taos, though. And, it’s a New Mexico thing. Manana doesn’t mean tomorrow. It just means ‘not right now.’ 🙂 It’s a place of serendipities and synchronicities. Actually, that is not true. I’m simply resonant to listen now, and experience thongs, so that is true for me. You might bring your anxiety, and then find everything I said to be wholly untrue. And, you’d be right. You could prove to yourself that wallowing in self-created misery is the logical thing to do. Only except there’s no heart of the matter in that. Those two special Ss, serendipity and synchronicity, are always there when you have dialed out of the Class 5 Rapids chatter of any given news feed so you can be present. How do you take time to do that for yourself?
Example. Big Flash Flood Warning Storm in Bobcat Pass/ Red River today. Power blipped, never staying on for more than 2-3 minutes. Is what it is. I dropped off my devices and picked up a pen and opened my phone flashlight and pulled the candle near if I needed to light that. COOL! ‘Cause THEN the power really went out. The whole area. Hours. Before it got dark I went outside and flipped the main breaker Off, then back on. That way service would be restored whenever the transformer or whatever popped up or down the line was fixed was back in working condition.
No fridge noise. No Sat TV box hum. No hum of the lights. And, at 9,900 feet in a cabin? That’s even MORE bliss. Fortunately, I didn’t have Zoom appointments with clients, so I took the blissful opportunity, lied down on the couch, and enjoyed the silence. The Silence was so present, so full, so full of inspiration that was comfortable simply energizing me with no words whatsoever. Only the action of lying down in this Inner World mid-air refueling gas station. Hmmm, I might turn the power off once a week now to facilitate a meditation of communion with what my ancestors felt looking at the night sky 10,000 years ago, just looking at the night sky within. Or, lol, just head to Chaco Canyon at night.
Present. The Present. To Present.
What is the present anyway? How does it present?
Well, I call it The Perpetual Present, the confluence of past memories with future dreams all flowing together to create this living being within the heart of the matter of each of us called the present. Jung called it The Eternal Moment, though I didn’t discover him until 1991. My Perpetual Present dropped from me for me in 1988 or ‘89, so I’ll stick with mine. Plus, I’m a sucker for alliteration. Plus, what are YOUR gigs. No need to validate your original stuff with historical friends or Mentor/Tormentor parents, or anyone but yourself for that matter. Heck, validation is for parking. What’s YOUR present. How do YOU own your present and not waste trouble. What’s your solution-oriented way?
Heck, in regards to the chatter… over 100 years ago… Mark Twain, If you dont read the paper each morning, you are uninformed. If you do, you are misinformed. Not much has changed, just an added density to the intensity of the experience of chaff in the wind. Personally, I can’t bake bread with chaff, Since it doesn’t nourish the heart of the matter and only fills the trash can, I don’t tend to allow it. The word “DUCK” can occur as many times as needed.
I Say, ‘Don’t believe. Have a Deep and Personal Knowing.’
To which I will add… Don’t believe everything you think. Who said that? 🙂 Go take a several-second field trip to kneel at the Google Oracle and find out. In so doing you might serendipitously stumble onto something YOU resonate with as well.
Several weeks ago, someone sat down and leaned in and blasted out, “I don’t believe in all this Tarot jumbo jumbo!” I smiled, “Why are you sitting in the real estate of my chair then. You can pay with cash or credit card through this little magical Square thingee.” “(????)” from them. No, you don’t get it! I don’t believe in this stuff. At all.” I smile, “Excellent. That makes two of us. I don’t believe in this stuff or Psychology any more than I believe in my range or fridge in my kitchen.” (???) “Well, then how do you have any integrity here?!” ….
“You’re funny all hopped up like that. Your face makes all these weird contortions. Are you aware of that? Looks uncomfortable. Though, to answer your question… I don’t believe in Tarot or Astrology any more than I believe in Psychology or my range or fridge in my kitchen. BUT, I use them all every day to nourish myself. How do you daily nourish yourself?” … “How much you charge again?”
And, they are a client now, repeat. That’s one example of how you don’t waste trouble. You don’t waste trouble by either engaging it or by taking shelter. In this case, calm and interested engagement. It’s the action that counts. The intention is over-rated. It’s more important the way something comes across.
Blind Spots? They’re Not Invisible When You Inspect What You Expect. Weed Them, Too.
Regardless of your intention… when you inspect what you expect… How does your present come across?
From what I see… personally, when I set out on my journeys with my Bear and Turtle… Wowwwww. Look what landed right near my feet on the John Dunn Plaza 2 weeks ago. I won’t identify it as a Golden Eagle or Bald Eagle secondary wing feather as… “Illegal to own it? Right, Sir. Though, I don’t own this. I simply have it. It needs to stay in Nature out here and not in some dusty drawer.”
I’ll find a place in Taos, though for now, I’ve never felt so at home in my life anywhere. Love the 2 components of that. Home within more than ever, simply looking for a lease and keys about.
How can you not waste trouble, own, and bring things to resolution?
How does the present present to you?
“The Architecture of Well-Being” is a system trademarked by Jordan Hoggard (TM) 2020
The nudity of the star? Yes. The star has shed all except Self and Other. The snake, its skin shedded. The snake, its skin not missed, For, look at all the pretty and wonderfully vulnerable colors refreshed. Phoenix! Phoenix yourself! The star needs no veils.
~ Me (c) 2020 Jordan Hoggard
Strip Yourself of Salvation
Years ago now, I made shame and guilt walk the plank. No arrrggg, Matey. No pirate push. Just nodded to them to go of their own useless accord as they simply had to go.
Well, at 23 the child became the parent of the adult. That didn’t loose my parents from me, nor my Mentor~Tormentors. They simply applied for citizenship within. And, on that day, my parents did not become colleagues. On that day, they became friends. Parents aren’t there to be your friend. They are there, to be your parents. Much like your friendly, neighborhood Psychologist. Parents and Psychologists = Self-Phoenix-Makers.
You see, at 42, across the Ebenezer Transit (credit Eric Pride, Consulting Astrologer) — Transiting Neptune crosses Natal Neptune. At that point in life, across the steps in the journey across the place of that time, it happened again. Phoenix. I molted again. The snake, my skin shedded. Was again the snake, my skin not missed. No pretty colors, though, that time. Time for terror, huh? Why? All reasons are unreasonable when it comes to the life of living symbols and times in life. For, who are your really answering to?
Who Are You Answering To?
So, as it went. Terror. It’s not, and wasn’t sadist. That’s just what transpired and has brought forth my whole life to this point to birth the current inspiration of..
Strip Yourself of Salvation
There’s no need to forgive. Ever. Sure, I forgive, and here’s about how it goes. Remember, I am a gardener, and on occasion, a Soul Gardener. I do not trim weeds with scissors. I remove them lie a Shaman exits terrors from your psyche. First, out by the roots to the trash, and also the guilt-by-association ground that was converted around them. Then, amend the soil. Pour not alluvium, Pout ablution-soil in. Pat softly. Water it in. Add some more like a comforting blanket for good measure.
Then, pause. Breathe as you kneel there thankful. Thankful for the opportunity you took to face that little terror called a weed, a psychic weed. Sometimes, it only take a good finger thump to upset their controlling orbit, and a subtle-nudge-second-push to jettison them out to the nearest black hole. That’s my kind of psychological delegation. It is connected to Nature, and the Universe. Nods to that. Big, Abrazos nods to that.
Rid yourself of both. Rid yourself of shame. Rid yourself of guilt. Are you a criminal? If so, stop reading here. If not, feel free to continue.
Your body? It’s been said to invest in yourself as it lasts a lifetime. I think Warren Buffet said that. I’d put a dollar on that he ripped that from Aristotle or Julia Morgan. More probably, it was Joan Didion.
I have lost touch with several people I used to be.
~ Joan Didion
So, your body? Invest in yourself? It lasts a lifetime? Yup, Yup, and some more Yup. You’ve gotta live with yourself for the rest of your life. So, why make yourself miserable? Others can do that plenty easily. Unless, of course… you discover the Property Management Company inside that assigns plats and metes and bound called property line… psychologically known as boundaries.
Shed shame. Then, guilt might soon follow like the ball and chain to shame it codependently is.
The Nudity of the Star
Ther nudity of the star? Yup. The star needs no veils. Neither do you. Fetishes? Bullshit. Fetishes are a fiction just like breath is prayer enough. Lovers love what they love, together and by themselves, together. People like what they like. Period.
Do you like what you like? If yes, then cool. Can you own that? No need to tell the world. Just tell yourself. And, telling yourself often requires the amount of words that should be on the books creating laws about womens’ bodies. It’s also the same number as the laws on the book about mens’ bodies. What is that number? ZERO.
Zero is the number of salvations you need. Shed worry and anxiety. How? What are you really afraid of? Do you now even remember anything other than that the media teaches you tp stay afraid?
If you do not read the newspaper each morning, you are uninformed. If you do read the newspaper each morning, then you are misinformed, daily. ~ Mark Twain
So, what are you really afraid of? Are you afraid that if you listen to me, make shame walk the plank, then you’ll have nothing? Good. That’s a wonderful start. Odds are, though, you have much more than you know. Odds are, you have much golden splendor within just waiting to flow up and fill the cracks and fault lines, self-created or otherwise… to fill them with the connections and wisdom born of experience rather than motion-limiting scars that are owned by the internal property management company called Shame & Guilt, LLC. Ever notice the limited liability of an LLC? Seems a bit tentative and weak to me. Incorporate. Or, don’t. Can you incorporate YOURSELF into your life more. Can you just incorporate yourself into your life outright over time?
Strip Yourself of Salvation
Strip yourself of the need for salvation. And, for all of you out there in toxic relationships out there, I share my empathy and sympathy with you ONLY if you remove yourself from there without harming yourself or causing more harm to you. If you don’t, that’s yours. Hopefully, that will piss you off enough to say FUCK YOU JORDAN which at least pressurizes you enough to turn to your Tormentor and with just a look scare the piss out of them. The 1st step to address a predator is to not be their food.
Forgiveness? Apologies? Sure. I do not care about what you say you are going to do. I care about what you do. At the end of time, at eternity, if you remember, then remind me. If you haven’t done that again to any other person since then, then I will entertain accepting your apology. Oh, wait. It’s eternity. Time’s up. Then, at that point? Yup. Then, I’ll revisit my decision. Until then, though, you must go, and you must go now.
You see? Strip yourself of the need for salvation. Because, who is it really through all these years who has consistently saved you? Not who helped you. Not who assisted you. Don’t forget them, though wasn’t it ultimately, and hasn’t it been, and isn’t it right now YOU that are the only one saving yourself? Cool. Emancipation is a word. You deserve more. I found that once shame an guilt walked the plank, it was only a matter of 3 years until I was able to connect with people deeply… and, not lose myself in the process… because they would hold a cupped hand and lift me up when I fell… so I could keep supporting myself and stay pressurized… on my own… better… with them.
Strip Yourself of Salvation. Salvation’s a Con Job
Worried about going to Hell? Ha! Don’t be. It’s run by an androgyne fallen Seraphim who still lives in his Pop’s basement. I find personal hells to be far more terrifying. Not an adrenaline sport, though I’ll take mine over that abstraction any time. I’d rather make Besties with my own Beasties. At least I can count on the management to listen if they are in the incorporated company called Myself. Worst case scenario of being ignored? Every single morning in the mirror when I am brushing my chompers.
Oh, One Last Thing
If You’re Lonely When You Are by Yourself,
Then You Are Not in Good Company.
If That’s the Case, Simply Own It, and… guess what? It’s Yours. You don’t need to ask permission to change yourself, not even to yourself.
I don‘t find the Ego to be conscious. I find it to be a vessel, an energetic, psychological containment system that can be equated to boundaries. So, having a strong ego often indicates healthy boundaries where someone else’s words do not upset the architecture of your well-being within the vessel. The Ego is a necessary part of the psyche.
“Egomanaical” is different as it’s a love of power rather than a power of love. And, as such, a love of power is often only skin deep superficial, mostly about false senses of control in a consummate avoidance of what makes one themself uncomfortable… attempting to make others squirm because one will not own that they are squirming.
And, like a Kintsukuroi broken vessel brought back together with gold, silver, or platinum lacquer to highlight connections rather than motion-limiting scars… we are each better for having been broken. Those who can still be kind (to living beings and Nature) after going through hells are badasses with hearts of gold.
Experiences make for connections, traumas addressed and resolved making for connections rather than motion-limiting scars. Image here of a Kintsukuroi bowl being better for having been broken, for having experienced life. Always complete, never finished, lifelong. The journey of the ongoing project called Your Life is the destination, the confluence of memory and dream that we live in in the perpetual present. Or, more concisely said, The Now. Your Life, Your Way, Always.