I love that Wyrd brought up the triplets, especially here with Christina being a Four kinda person. Quarter note triplets in 2 versus 3 is a pretty beautiful cadence.
I Especially Love
I especially love that you brought it up, as the architect in me nodded at the 3 when I first saw this series, though it was as engaging as a prayerful breath, as I moved right along. I nodded as 3 is the 1st number associated with beauty. Once 3’s, then 2 is also beautiful as a paring or coupling, and 1 as identity.
3’s. III The Empress. XII The Hanged Man. The Hanged Man is The Emperor’s son.
There’s a potential seed for rockin’ conversation about numbers and numerology here for 1 through 9 + 0. (As a concept rather than a number). I feel 9 is the most dynamic number, as it folds over itself, the only number to do so, and it is formed of 3-squared. 3 is then a seed of 9, dosing itself with more of itself as 3-square to POOF, become 9. 9 folds over itself? What are you saying, Jordan?
Look at the 9’s multiplication table: 09:18:27:36:45::54:63:72:81:90. It’s a mirror, like 10 fingers sharing a pinky to fold over together in a namaste or prayer gesture: Also, the color for 9, the Nin kanji in Ninjitsu Shadow meditation, indicative of the Tao, is White. Community of all colors in harmony, the dynamic place to go of the One Point, or Hara… and then back to yellow at 1 with Chu Kanji.
And, the Four? Oh yeah from what I see that fits you, Christina. Four is the first number of place, of empire, of foundation, IV Emperor in Tarot, Four Corners, Four Winds. Foreplay to pun it. XIII Death as 13 is also a 4. Are your Tarot Birth Cards Death~Emperor? Or, High Priestess~Justice?
I resonate that the expressions of the meanings of numbers go on and on like pi… 3.1415629 etc etc etc. Pi. One of the EverReady Bunnies of numbers. 22/7 (or, is there another expression of Pi? … hmmmm)
Rather than going into my 1 through 9 as I’ve written about it almost too extensively to yet be concise, to have been concise, and somehow now I am again in the place of the repeating number ellipses NOT being able to be concise about numbers…
I’ll simply share these 4 videos as an Ode to Christina’s 4-Ness-ness. 3 videos mine + 1 Cristobal Vila… which I have to say is MO’ BETTA than mine. Not a judgment or personal slam on me from me. He simply WENT places with it that I full-on resonate with, full-on EXPRESSED it without words.
Yessssssss, the Hierophant on a bad day is often considered to be the stubborn, unbending Traditionalist. Though, I don’t feel him/her that way. Those people aren’t Hierophants. They are patriarchal and afraid and confused with an inner fabric of unresolved Trauma issues where they are consequently dyslexically obsequious sycophants, regardless of gender — binary, mixed, or otherwise. Maybe even Solipsistic Transcendentalists. Though, I’ll belay the last for another day.
I’ll play my naive card for a second to back up on my previous statement and not be so mean as the song goes. I feel everyone is good at something. Everyone. And, those people? Yes, they are good at something, too, and deserve my support for their goodness. So, I support their goodness. They are certainly good at something. They are really good at being dicks.
I feel that it’s important to be genuinely comfortable and confident with one’s intensities. The natural ones. The ones developed over a lifetime. They’re attuned because they are integrated, they are ablution as they in their highest form come from total immersion over time.
In the animal kingdom, preying on the old and the weak and the young = breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner. When people do that? It’s without question weak and mean and cruel.
Have we seen that recently in the literal and weak bully pulpit of recent sex crimes exposed in the religious (uh hem… alleged Hierophantic) community?
Did you notice? I mentioned nothing about Lewis’ race? Why would I? Yes, he’s black. Dafuq a bunch o’ that. He’s simply one of THE greats in F1… EVER! ‘Nuff said. Why in the hell would that even need that adjective portion to expressing him? Have you seen him drive?! Ayrton Senna is Most likely up there in Heaven for the weather and in Hell for the company BEAMING with the likes of Mark Twain and Oscar Wilde and Carl Jung And Julia Morgan cheering Hamilton on… I gather.
I hear they’re serving red today. Carmenere and Malbec…
Maybe some Priorat, too. Quite an international crowd.
And, George Floyd? That was a modern day lynching. Un… Un-dafuqin-acceptable! Period. Something must be done. What are we going to do with all this future we have With things like this… NOW!
The Hierophant is a Song That opens you up to be inspired by how they intensely and almost instantly untangle you from your own inner briar patches. We all have them, I have them.
We certainly cannot hire that man. Not a chance.
Why Mr. Churchill?
Because he said he has no vices. Either, he’s a liar in denial, or he really is THAT boring. Either way that’s a bust. ~ Winston Churchill
quote… please kneel to the Google Oracle and search. You might find some other gems.. 🙂
The Hierophant is/are… Songs of Experience.
I used to be an Architect, maybe I still am. I simply build differently now that I found myself. And yes, May 5th, 2008 put a cannonball through my stomach to hardscrabble scratch and claw until in 2014 when I closed my own firm after 12 years… well… kinda.
I stood up and said, Enough! The snake his skin shedded, the snake his skin not missed… like chaff, from the wheat, in the wind. I wisened. I turned. I shed. I am thankful for the moment I did. Restart? Already did. Differently. Questions are important. Ask me again on that tomorrow so to speak.
And, Here’s the Real F1 Drive of This Post
Sanctuary Questions I
I feel there are sanctuaries built in great questions, sacred places of inner reverence that are not egomaniacal, that provide the opportunity for the ablution of immersion. And, I feel that helps self-center Self where you can HEAR your own voice and resonance and personal and resonant chords WHEN they are struck. Sometimes, even wise in time IN the moment.
Sanctuary Questions II
Questions, like two of my own…
Are you strong enough and comfortable enough in your intensities to be comfortably gentle? You know, like a tiger with a tiger? Effin comfy, and MAJESTIC Presence As Architecture there.
I feel the fluid fluency of ImaginAction is more than everything, actionable imagination in ImaginAction as it takes death as the mother of memory to flow in and nourish future dreams in the Soul Garden of the perpetual present.
You see, I literally lost my creativity, and my imagination shortly followed suit 4 years ago. Both desiccated, died on the vine to slip back into some infinitely far place inside. It’s intense 3-year long trauma that did that. It’s is a common occurrence. PTSD literally scars one over like a psychic burn victim. I came to my senses one day, and left. After I exited the situation, it didn’t sit right with me at all that me, an Architect, Painter, Tarot Reader & Author, Astrologer, Poet, Writer, etc etc was no longer creative, no longer had an imagination or access to it. Problem-solving never left, though in the context of MIA creativity and imagination, that’s just permutations like Tetris, and finite
As I am want to do, I took the long way home so to speak. I discovered Brainspotting therapy, and for 3 years went bi-weekly/monthly. 18 months out from that, now, I’m certainly back, and I consider my creativity and imagination to be even stronger now, as boundaries were also developed so I could inflate to pressurize myself to look just like me.
So, it’s imagination, and ImaginAction to me that is more than everything. Imagination commands my inner and outer infinities with fluid fluency without being vague or nebulous. A bit Neptunian, yes, though not nebulous.
So, it’s imagination and ImaginAction. They are certainly my “more than everything.”
Sidebar Takeaway to Juice & Amplify That?
Adversity doesn’t build character. It reveals it. ~ James Lane Allen
… often Powerful Witness, rarely comfortable? Nope. Comfortable in empathy, the mode of Rock of Gibraltar mode always. It’s not about not taking it personally when someone rails, is it? If you care about them, it’s Rock of Gibraltar to the Ocean-speak receiving, especially when unsaid and hearing, ”Your words, not mine. About you, not me. And, I full-on understood you trusted enough to confess that about yourself. I’m still listening.” … of course within limits. Certainly, don’t put yourself in danger.
though, what is it YOU think and feel when receiving that?
Glad? And, nothing can be moved by the ocean, no matter how stormy, kinda thing? …
as the ocean, it needed to ebb and flow,
And sometimes more intensely than others.
And, the rock? It needed to listen.
Your job is simple, no less intense for it, though simple.
Listen. Isn’t that it?
What did I tell myself back then?
Listen to what you didn’t say. And, then don’t… because you if you didn’t say it, you didn’t feel it. It never was. Don’t make things out of not-things. Instead…
Wisen your future experiences in the perpetual present by…
What do you say when you’re gifted the opportunity to listen?
What’s a no charge download and pay with value mean?
Share ImaginAction on social media, pay what you feel its value is after experiencing it in whole or part atBuyMeACoffee, or other currency? Like, comment, and/or gaze at a candle or out the window with a Thank you for the free download. That kind of energy makes the world a better place.
Poseidon welled up through my 10th House Neptune~Mercury conjunction, dutifully commanded softly… well, as softly as Poseidon is able with the full force of Nature…
Stop crying. You’re wasting water.
You need that up here. All you have is your own now. All you have is you.
All you have is your own now. Keep it.
Your job is simple, no less intense for it, though simple.
Stop bowing. What message do you have for yourself IN this experience?
Feel it. Say it out loud. Hear it.
There’s only one way to honor it and allow it to develop in your Soul Garden and amend your soil without YOU being the fertilizer…
and wisen your future experiences in the perpetual present.
I Don’t Dissolve
I’m from the depths, and I know Hades, and I know you are now nowhere near dead. Just dead tired, beaten down with and only now you are
blood and sand and wind and cold.
If you don’t make it off this pile of rocks, your message will die on the vine. Then, no use to you. No, if you croak here and become a Bio class skeleton!…
Get up to KEEP IT!!
I Rose Up & Called Out
Death is the Mother of memory, organic fertilizer, nourishes dreams, ideas, intuitions, imagination. Death does not get me now except to amend the soil in the garden of ME, but not yet WITH me!
YES!, I AM MOST LIKELY GOING TO die today, turning back up to point at the unseen summit over several pitches, though I’m going to die going fuqin THAT way!
At the Top Again
At the top, still not yet having begun to down-climb in the dark from 14,363 feet to 10k+ to base camp. I didn’t make haste. I didn’t attempt to go straight back down to safety. I suddenly got in NO HURRY WHATSOEVER. And, I took a side trip. I ambled back up to the top. Why go down when I’m already here. Won’t be able to do this tomorrow. When in Rome!
I’m Here. Experience.
I’m here. Back to the top to sit. Not for long, though I need to rest. Can’t go to sleep. Wouldn’t wake up. Important. Don’t go to sleep. Like a concussion. Don’t go to sleep! Sit. Sit with the experience NOW.
Need to sit.
I walked back up from the pre-summit mini-plateau to the summit where I had been earlier, had penciled my name in on the log sheet in the plastic envelope now flap-smacking in the wind on the pole set in rocks almost mocking me. Then,
… Oh. You’re not mocking me. You’re waving my shoestring flag of being out on a limb. That’s ma flag.. Felt the groggy pushing. Thank you.
I sat on the rocks.
What Message Am I gifted from this experience?
Well, certainly don’t pencil yourself in. Don;t allow yourself to be penciled in. Don’t do it in blood, either. Be fluid. Be direct. Oh dafuq, that’s a problem. I’m fuckin’ with myself. Big prob up here. That’s like desiccated hubris AT oneself. Not good. That tired. Too tired. Mind energy.No fighting. That’s a waste. Be. Experience. Continue.
Who was it, Brene Brown? Yes, Brene Brown expressed, Vulnerability is the birthplace of courage.
Though I may have caused a future need for Soul Retrieval that day for continually shedding whole beings of myself shedding-soul-dumping 6 times at least… l, moving slowly back up the scree field to drop weight away that day….
No. I didn’t Do that at all. Yes, I dropped whole portions of myself in positive liposuction to lighten, though, in doing I revealed myself to myself, my colors. And, 3+ years of bi-weekly/monthly Brainspotting 15 years later? I secured me back, back here WITH my imagination and creativity to come back anew. NOW! The snake my skin shedded. The snake my skin not missed for the splendor of my own colors found… the meaning is…
Across one afternoon and dusk and evening and night Where I became only blood and a sand and wind and cold… now around midnight… I found myself. I was blissful. A bit deluded and/or out of sorts I’m sure. Though, I found myself. And then? I came to. I didn’t lose all the beauty of the transcendence. Not. At. All. AND. I also found myself in seriously intense trouble. Hmmmm, so I found myself in trouble.
I don’t dafuqin waste trouble, that ‘s for sure. THAT woke me up from places beyond exhaustion. Sitting there at the summit… My SOP M.O. of DON’T WASTE TROUBLE came back on line.
Feel it. Hear it inside. I feel it. I hear it deep inside like a grown building to the beast that is me. (NO ! Need with a beast. They already are). Step back and open to resonance and space to expand until it settles. Settling. Full on chaos of Nature inside, settles, deep water silently flowing, and top of lake made of glass. Top lake of glass. The top of the lake is now made of glass, so STAND UP! Now, say it.
I’m still surprised I didn’t fall asleep up there that exhausted, though. Surprised and not that I came to. Though, how could I not? I was only half way through on the long road home. Until you’re off, you’re still on. Knock me dafuq completely out, or I’m still a problem, as the saying goes. When you’re alive, you always have something to be alive for… if none other than that you are… alive.
Keep it, I heard again. Softly at first.
Adversity doesn’t build character. It reveals it. ~ James Lane Allen’s words came through, and…
Keep it, I…
oh, no voice. All dried out. I don’t waste trouble!, I thought, so…
I Uncle Walt YAWPED IT INSIDE.
It has echoed since.
How Do You Keep Self-Geodes
you’ve Cracked Open?
What Inner Inheritances Do You Discover?
Keep ‘em yours and private if you wanna. I simply ask that you utilize them. They’re yours, on your own terms. Your Life, Your Way.
P.S.: Autocorrect often writes what I didn’t Nintendo.
Suffering isn’t always required for success if you’re allergic to boredom and challenge yourself. Discipline of the ritual, and Butt In The Chair is most likely required though — The BITCh Method. Butt In The Chair… or, wherever you create.
Sometimes. And ALSO, sometimes what does not kill us, doesn’t kill us because it likes us very much. When you don’t waste trouble, you don’t let your emotions dictate how you feel. You allow them to guide how you feel, though not get dissolved by them. When you don’t waste trouble… it’s not the catastrophe that’s the problem. It’s how you take it, what you make of it, your perspective on it. Perspective is key. How can you hold your mouth differently? Like an interrogative dog? How can you hold your mouth differently. It, literally, gives you a different perspective.
Adversity is like weather coming in, that has arrived, on the mountain, above treeline, in late October, on a 14er, at 14,263 feet above sea level, on Mt Democrat, the sun dropping behind the bowl, temp from 60s to 23 to 19, and you got stuck not getting off the mountain at 2p before the storms come in, and you’re day-dressed, shorts and a T-shirt. Nature’ll kill ya, no matter your experience level. Nature’ll kill ya. That I’m writing this? I kept going. Keep going…
Being aware of experience, though, means we’re still alive, and so does pain. You don’t need to suffer, though the best thing about pain is, it let’s you know you’re still alive, and to get Home! Well, these days, that flips itself huh? Maybe you want to get OUT of home? I rather like it. Home of house. Home of place. Home of world, etc. I suggest to entertain that… the, I’ve just had an another experience, or, are having an experience. And, one can potentially make That stronger if one discerns… What’s the workability? Not responsibility. Not accountability. Workability.
Lose the reverse gear for just a moment. What’s your perspective of your experience? Don’t be anything you think you’re expected to be. Inspect your expectations. Check ‘em at the door. Heck, shake ‘em off to reveal You. If you have to, cross-check them into the blue line wall hard enough for their helmet to shatter the glass, so you can shatter your glass ceiling(s). Shake ‘em off. Oh, and sometimes all you have to do is duck, or move out of the way. It’s nothing personal, all just some action on the ice of life. Take care of yourself out there. And, don’t be afraid to smile as you slip just to the side. My joke one year was,Go ahead. Take aim. Waste of time. I’m so shot full of holes you’re gonna miss.
What geode gems of messages have you mined and cracked open by not wasting trouble, by working at your craft not to stave off boredom, but to build value for yourself? What was/is your takeaway message gift from them? Too numerous to remember? None yet? That’s fair.
May I suggest that you have Presence As Architecture, Presence As Architecture. Keep it. Upkeep it. Enhance it and reinforce it and strengthen it. Nourish its powerful limits and boundaries. Fly as high as your roots go deep. Swim as deep And infinitely as your dreams expand within you. If your roots go deep, have a strongly developed sense of yourself, words won’t move you. You may feel them, though sometimes, still no reason than to be still. Top Gun, I’ll hit the brakes and they’ll fly right by. Next.
Why flinch or grimace or dodge? Heck, you might have already been well placed. Don’t want to move into what was going to already pass right by. Strengthen your roots, develop and enhance your sense of identity and healthy boundaries. Then, there’s no cause or reason to fear the wind so to speak.
Why move 3” when blade only 1/4” wide? ~ Unknown. Mr. Miyagi?
I have 2 Allergies
My allergy to boredom neverminds the other one Into oblivion.
Death is the Mother of memory, the organic fertilizer that nourishes dreams, ideas, intuitions, imagination.
What message do I have for myself from this experience?
Feel it. Hear it inside. GIve its resonance space to expand until it settles. Now, say it.
Dead-head your pansies in your garden, or pots, or urns, or wherever you have them. It’s a verdant gesture to keep them thriving and vibrant. There’s so much cool color when you do. So much cool color ALL the time. Dead-head the flowers as they start to wilt and drop them to the base of the plant. Death will then be the Master Gardener to nourish. Death, the mother of memory, will fertilize future flowers’ dreams. Dead-head, and that energy can go into the soil, and the energy that was going to that flower will strengthen the remaining full flowers and new growth.
Pansies Are Delicate, Though…
Pansies are delicate, though they are hardy. Pansies in the garden are no weaklings. Pansies are SO not pansies. Trauma works like pansies to a degree…
So many times after an intense experiences passes, I feel there is a tendency to say, Phhuuuuueeewww. Glad that’s over. Run away! Like Monty Python. Run away! Run away!
Is it. Is it over? Is the experience really over? Or, is The End really Just The Next Beginning? Or, is the over simply that we escaped with our life? Or, escaped to be emancipated with more life, more of ourself revealed, now more evidently present?
Maybe, instead of Glad that’s over, somewhere along the line I’ve learned to dwell IN the experience while it was still fresh just afterwards, and then not have to dwell on it as some nebulous unresolved why-dafuq-do-I-get-triggered-that-way by who knows what that reminds me subtly enough that I don’t groc it until too late, for years to come.
Feel into trauma and experience wise in time or just after. Own it. Listen to its message. Allow it to integrate itSelf on its own terms. Continue WITH it as a new asset. Feel your empathy tuned up a notch in so doing. Respect and resonate in powerful witness with the trauma messenger inside. Be grateful to the person who triggered you BEFORE you act out driven by the trauma and not the totality of what you were the moment before. Express, Thank you for digging just there. I need to breathe and feel into that. ANd, if they are a solid friend comfortable in their own skin, they’ll understand, maybe even silently stay with you for the short vigil while you acclimate to the trauma re-surfacing, powerfully and respectfully and grateful listen to it in all its ferocity and candor and quiet subtleties.
Once your trauma has re-acclimated to you as well — its birth to peel off from you to protect you and bleed off overload in the system and become a disconnected Part and be buried deep inside may Be the last time it saw you — get re-acquainted, and do so allowing the Part to lead. Don’t poison it with any words or expectations or presumptive putting words in its mouth. Allow it to speak, and do so on its own time rather than yours. The 1st session with a Part may simply be an awareness of one another session. Each encounter is different. It may leave and come back to check in later. Minutes. Days. Years. Simply reserve a place At your table for it when it presents each time.
Amending The Soil
It feels like fingers in black earth while amending the soil in the garden. If, just for a moment, I honor myself enough to be silent and still, not frozen, not in shock, silent and still, when I feel into the intense experience after I have washed up on the shore on the other side after the storm I’ve experienced has broken, I can feel-discern with a fresh clarity of vision in a new perspective framed by the experience before it evaporates. And, it informs me. It gifts me the message of my experience while it’s still fresh, instead of disappearing inside to become a trigger where the trauma is always kept fresh.
Still near it, fresh and wet behind the ears from my birth from The experience, before it’s truly past trauma, still focused by it and immersed in it rather than by me, a bit still hanging toes in the unconscious semi-liminal, it or I may gift myself a message from the experience before I fully step back over the trauma prison of Inner Beyond to here. Psychologists have plenty of titles for this. That’s cool. Creativity is not a diagnosis or a malady or a disorder. The only titles that matter to me are Tarot Reader and Author, Astrology Reader and Author (by Blog), Artist, Poet, Writer, Alchemist, Architect, someone who is Alive. Bold. Courageous. Caring. Empathic without being mushy… unless of course we have our toes in the mud… to grow a Lotus from the mud in joyous and as-if-without-thought-or will sandbox garden.
Fearlessness doesn’t apply here. I have plenty of fears. I simply don’t let anxiety kidnap them and torture and distort them into making me afraid. Guess that helps get off the mountain when those torrentially experiential storms come in rain-singing, Nature’ll kill ya. Keep breathing, and you’re still alive so you’re still a problem. Keep breathing. Nature’ll kill ya. Nature’ll kill ya. And, Nature will make you stronger when you relive yourself of the excess, when you deadhead the pansies in the Soul Garden so they keep thriving more and more strongly towards perennial naturalization each year.
I’d stay in that place as long as it took, not running for dear life to get as far away as possible, certainly not frozen, quite the contrary. Not fight or flight or freeze. Aware. Still. Focused. Patience is not docile or omissive. Patience is concentrated strength.
I in-dwell in the feelingsense home of the space, of the place, of my recent, intense experience. Sometimes 5 seconds. Sometimes an hour. Sometimes decades cycling around through its paces throughout my psyche. No deadline, no expectation. I simply make serendipitous stumbles in meditative momentS moving forward in a powerful and respectful witness of what just occurred. I don’t waste trouble.
And, I do that until I’ve psychic-gold-panned past the experience’s rough geode exterior to see beyond the rawness in the moment to the refined, potent message. I see into to the colorfully kaleidoscopic, living crystal, juicy gemstone, geode interior. And, the message comes as my head begins nodding. Almost without fail. Almost without fail is an acceptable risk to me.
I’ve had historical friends for as long as I can remember. Sometimes they are spectators, sometimes assistants, sometimes colleagues, and sometimes I’m the spectator when I Engage in process towards the message with something like: What would my friend Fred do?; How would my friend Bill B handle this?; What does CG‘s ‘Red Book’ have to offer?
How Do You Keep It?
Who Are Your Historical Friends?
How Can They Help You Today?
How do I keep it? I keep it with an open palm up to the sky where it would nestle in my hand. No closing my hand and holding tight white knuckling to possess it. That suffocates things. Embrace it. Embrace the person or thing as a talisman, a talisman of THEMself on their terms. No need to digress into Psychological Projection or Projective Identity. Those two are the horseshit born of not owning your own stuff.
How do I embrace and meet up with inner, geode messages?
Open handed, reciprocal figure to ground touch, the Both/And touch of the Yin-Yang, the apogee master violin bow single-stroke bindus connecting inhale and exhale, forming breath as prayer. That’s how I embrace and meet up with these inner, geode messages.
Adversity doesn’t build character. It reveals it. ~ James Lane Allen
Be there. Be present. The present is perpetual.
Boundaries that create separation simply induce self-imposed anxiety. Boundaries that establish identity and distinctions can dance and immerse in one another without dissolution. I love swimming. I love swimming immersed with another and their uncut intensities even more. Fun stuff.
Then, if you‘re still alive, keep it.
And, saturation needn’t be drowning in the distress of a situation. Like a high performance, high speed, X-rated radial tire — rated for speeds over 134 mph, it’s on you to take responsibility for how far you take it above that… they’re not concerned about a court case at that level above 200 mph as that’s on you top make sure — you and your tires are filled up to 33 psi for stability, and maybe dropped to 32psi for added grip in the turns in the cold? Yes. Vrooom, shift n corner, baby! Shift n corner TOGETHER!
Message Gifts Kept
From your experiences, what gems of messages have you mined to keep?
They are yours, I respect that, and ask that you do as well. No need to comment them here. Please comment only IFF if and only if you care to and are full-on comfortable to share them. Otherwise, they are yours to tune your Soul’s liquid silence with the resonant chords of you and nurture the healthy boundaries of the Royal Castle Around You forming you as Presence As Architecture, or whatever you decide you do with… (Hey presumption, get the effa outa here and know when to shut dafuq up)
May I suggest that Your Presence Is Architecture, Presence As Architecture. Keep it. Upkeep it. Nourish its powerful limits and boundaries. Fly as high as your roots go deep. Swim as deep And infinitely as your dreams expand within.
How do you dead-head the pansies of trauma to nourish yourself by respectfully integrating them?
The greatest fear for success should not be failure. It should Be succeeding at something that doesn’t matter. ~ Francis Chan
Proceed as if success is inevitable. ~ Unknown
Întention is over-rated. It’s simply far more important the way something comes across. ~ Jordan Hoggard
My process of being naturally comfortable with the not-knowing while getting things done? Maybe it’s due to having almost died on the mountain once, twice, three times? Possibly. Maybe, it’s my Natal Astro Chart config, and how I’ve come to resonate with it in myself. Maybe, it’s also due to a life of welcoming experience over worry, as I seem to get happier the older I get.
By not numbing to just ignore intense gigs because my awareness has eroded, just have become accustomed to them, and/or didn’t like the discomfort? Nope. Nope. And… Nope. In fact I notice and respond or don’t more now. 3+ years of bi-weekly Brainspotting in my late 40s certainly didn’t hurt.
I love that someone recently asked me about my 5+ year radio silence. DOOD, what DID you do while you were gone?! You’re so clear now, even in your abstract, like you really love what you’re doing and know how to care about it more. AND, we can follow and all share in that as well. You were wickedly brilliant and interesting before, though at times hard to follow. You’d Easily paint the WHOLE picture at once in a stroke, 1,000 words or 5 word metaphor, at every scale. Easily clear to you, though… Yup, YOU just saw it and felt it, though keeping up with your revs and where you were going, uh hem… and you, NOT FAIR!, speed-shifting in sync bypassing the clutch… it was exhausting at times, and actually almost impossible, though ALSO intriguing. Your simple steps were leaps of faith for me, and I’m no Evil Knievel, though I’m ‘out there, too.’ Understood, you were thinking and feeling out loud, Effin Abstract Expressionist you were, and NOW, TOO, though I feel it clearly!. I fuckin’ resonate with what you’re doing SO much more now! Glad to have you back! And, more so, glad you have a more aware clarity of what you are doing in a way you can express it to us! You also seem happier. I may like that even more.
I live my life as if my life depends on it,
as those 3 times on the mountain it certainly did.
On the 3rd one — a short time after, me still swimming in the experience still wet behind the ears so to speak from it — i paused. I felt something stir deep within me that rose to the surface like Poseidon rising up through my Natal 10th House Neptune`Mercury conjunction in Scorpio, supported by my Pluto~Pallas-Athena~Uranus conjunction in 8th House Virgo, given plenty of room by my Moon~ASC 12th House conjunction in Capricorn. And, my Chiron could not have been more pleased. My head popped up as if a long lost friend suddenly appeared as if to continue a conversation interrupted, paused to gestate and ruminate, years ago.
Yes?, I asked, all ears. The message response came back…
My rock. It was my rock. My equilateral triangle, basalt rock from out of the sand at the top of the Mt Democrat 14er scree field. Sand and blood and a rock. I kept them, blotted the blood with sand, Sand-Aid not by Curad. The rock. I kept the rock. The blood and sand healed away. I kept the rock in my left pocket for 5 years. What happened to my rock? It’s now a talisman. It’s now the talisman on my wand which is a whole ‘ other story in itself.
Similarities resonating to life after 17 years. Cicada?
Constructing the Center, Night #12, 2008
What Do You Keep?
What cornerstone do you keep in your life to brace against?
How Can You Utilize That to Further Invest in Yourself?
Adversity doesn’t build character. It reveals it. ~ James Lane Allen
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