i am chewing on your meditations around facing fear of death. and how impossible the task is (so... it's a process, not a goal?)
there is a black wall in the basement i keep hitting, or skipping off of, or diving into, during my ketamine sessions the past couple years. it is the most terrible thing, full of the horror and cruelty embodied consciousness is capable of, and also the most beautiful sparkling fractal universe in and of itself. it all depends on how i look at it. but i think i have actively avoided absorbing the full enormity of it. as if i already have seen so much why do i need to spend any more time dwelling inside it. i acknowledge it. it is but one facet of the infinite. why should i give it more power than any other? do i need to force myself to suffer more to understand suffering and fear? evil is boring. it's small and petty. shriveled and miserable. whereas the universe itself is full of infinitely more than that.
but there still may be something i am dodging like an oyster growing a pearl
Perhaps, you don’t need to do anything. Some things don’t open until the time is right no matter what you do. It’s not like you can avoid things after you provide the willingness to feel. I’ve faced my fear of death so many times, and I’m sure I’ll face it again and differently when it’s my time. It’s not a one-and-done, unfortunately. You have an inherent wisdom. You can trust that, in my experience. I feel you. Enjoy as much as you can and leave the rest to trusting that facing the fear of death is worthwhile for every aspect of your life, especially relationships. You are brilliant. I know that about you.
Beautifully written and so many revelatory components. You know how people will communicate similar ideas in a different way and it finally lands? That happened for me, here, with reincarnation. (I'm horrified by the thought of reincarnating after my death. But reincarnating during my life? YES. Sign me up. That is all about letting go and reinvention, over and over again.) I look forward to hearing about your darkness experience. I've looked into that some. We've talked about silence before. I'm comfortable with silence in small doses. I wonder what an extended experience would be like.
I’ll let you know if I ever get there. Long wait list. I agree about reincarnation after death. I respectfully decline. Thank you so much for reading and your kind words.
I love this, Susan. What a pleasure to share this piece! Your essay has caused me to reflect (yet again) on the many changes we undergo in a human life. And on how, as we follow the longing within us, our life may become multiple lives, ever drawing us towards the numinous and preparing us to move across thresholds. Your writing also reminds me that I love being a woman—here and now. An older woman, among other older women, doing some of our best work in cloaks of invisibility. So be it. What is seeing? Thank you for sharing your own metamorphoses in the spirit of service. And beauty.
Thank you for seeing so much, Robin. It is offered in the spirit of service, and I also love being an older woman. Wouldn't change it. The great thing about a cloak of invisibility is that you can take it off or put it back on. Others are not in control of this process. Tonight, I'm going to perform a story live. As I take the stage, they'll have low expectations. Then, I'll swirl off my cloak and dazzle them.
Oh wow! Susan. Knowledge and truth telling pours out rhythmically in this one. It moves along, speaking in tongues! As I read I kept imagining you on the stage pacing the entire length, running into the audience--looking to our eyes ... It's so challenging to try to describe these experiences. And then the layers of the ancients (that you know so much about) and your own journeys! And awakenings! (And I hadn't thought yet, of T. as an archetype, or a mythology--I forgot how you said it). Brava! And besides I smiled laughed so much as I was reading.(I loved how you got to stay in bed and fly places.)
I’m so glad I made you smile and laugh. Right now, I think T. Is so much archetype that he’s like one of those blown out Easter eggs. Just shell and air. Nothing left of the man except archetype.
I can only refer you'all to a moment at the beginning of "Die Towerberg se Dans" (the Dance of some of my ancestors, First Nations people): (Coming to Substack, soon ...
Wow. Thank you so much. Your response is always so generous. So beautiful Roy, I love this, and you. The women singing that prayer made me cry. It's so beautiful, I'm going to send it out into the world as a note. Your poetry always moves me. I think we are kindreds.
Susan, me / you too. Courageous (with something about 'transparent' too ... ). Thank you. The woman leading the singing (of the first line of that prayer' (solo, a cappella, upfront and central within decades of mythological, hillside 'tradition') is always enough to stir the heart. Less so as a 'national anthem,' but still ... (the algorithms prevent me sending this as a reply. I'll try as a 'Note')
This is so brilliant, a brief history of a true awakening with women at the center of it all. I am still waiting for my dark cave days. I've done many deep jungle isolation plant retreats with just tobacco, other times with Mother Aya. Your writing is so clear and FUNNY. I giggled many times as I relate, this is my Jam. I've written only a bit, so many coming homes — here, and you speak of the time needed to integrate and bring it home to daily life. So good. I love this and you.
Thanks, Prajan. I love you too. I knew you would get it. I'm glad it made you giggle. I had several giggles while writing it. Sometimes lines come and will me with glee. Of course, there's so much between the lines, which I'm sure you can also see. I'm so glad.
Witches AND mythology? In one essay? Lucky me! I keep flashing back to a scene in The Witches of Eastwick where the church congregation is vomiting cherries (I think it was cherries). Thank you for sharing your journey so beautifully. I've never considered myself a spiritual being, and so the the idea of being reborn spiritually doesn't come naturally to my sometimes rigid brain...but I have likened menopause to a rebirth, shedding the old skin for the new and so I was able to find familiarity in that. What a gift to be able to travel this road with yourselves, all of them.
OMG. Cherries. I think it was. I met Upkide once. I grew up nearby. Sweet man. I loved that story. I experience menopause as a rebirth, too, when the Great Mother gave me my cloak of invisibility.
OMGod. Susan. This is the most spiritually alive and awake and joyful essay. I hung on every word and read the whole thing twice. My mouth is agape. THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL and spilling over with love, magic, and possibility. Do you remember how I feel like meeting you was me coming in contact with "THE Mother?" That you're a teacher for me? But also, reading this piece, I'm seeing myself in so much of it. That I understand what true joy is, because I'm living it. AND you described reincarnation within this incarnation, so that I could understand the concept in a way I've never thought of before. And taking it out of the realm of Nan dies the old-fashioned way and gets buried and THEN is reincarnated (which is something I'm still skeptical about) and reframing it for me in a way where I can see that I've reincarnated at least several times in this body that I've inhabited for almost 65 years, makes so much sense to me that if you asked me today if I believed in reincarnation, I'd come back with a resounding, "damn right I do." This essay is EVERYTHING. Love you so much. xo
i am chewing on your meditations around facing fear of death. and how impossible the task is (so... it's a process, not a goal?)
there is a black wall in the basement i keep hitting, or skipping off of, or diving into, during my ketamine sessions the past couple years. it is the most terrible thing, full of the horror and cruelty embodied consciousness is capable of, and also the most beautiful sparkling fractal universe in and of itself. it all depends on how i look at it. but i think i have actively avoided absorbing the full enormity of it. as if i already have seen so much why do i need to spend any more time dwelling inside it. i acknowledge it. it is but one facet of the infinite. why should i give it more power than any other? do i need to force myself to suffer more to understand suffering and fear? evil is boring. it's small and petty. shriveled and miserable. whereas the universe itself is full of infinitely more than that.
but there still may be something i am dodging like an oyster growing a pearl
Perhaps, you don’t need to do anything. Some things don’t open until the time is right no matter what you do. It’s not like you can avoid things after you provide the willingness to feel. I’ve faced my fear of death so many times, and I’m sure I’ll face it again and differently when it’s my time. It’s not a one-and-done, unfortunately. You have an inherent wisdom. You can trust that, in my experience. I feel you. Enjoy as much as you can and leave the rest to trusting that facing the fear of death is worthwhile for every aspect of your life, especially relationships. You are brilliant. I know that about you.
You are brilliant! I’m going to be say no more in an act of silence to let the profundity of those words sink into your soul……..
Thank you. Believe me, I feel them stinging my eyes right now.
Beautifully written and so many revelatory components. You know how people will communicate similar ideas in a different way and it finally lands? That happened for me, here, with reincarnation. (I'm horrified by the thought of reincarnating after my death. But reincarnating during my life? YES. Sign me up. That is all about letting go and reinvention, over and over again.) I look forward to hearing about your darkness experience. I've looked into that some. We've talked about silence before. I'm comfortable with silence in small doses. I wonder what an extended experience would be like.
I’ll let you know if I ever get there. Long wait list. I agree about reincarnation after death. I respectfully decline. Thank you so much for reading and your kind words.
I love this, Susan. What a pleasure to share this piece! Your essay has caused me to reflect (yet again) on the many changes we undergo in a human life. And on how, as we follow the longing within us, our life may become multiple lives, ever drawing us towards the numinous and preparing us to move across thresholds. Your writing also reminds me that I love being a woman—here and now. An older woman, among other older women, doing some of our best work in cloaks of invisibility. So be it. What is seeing? Thank you for sharing your own metamorphoses in the spirit of service. And beauty.
Thank you for seeing so much, Robin. It is offered in the spirit of service, and I also love being an older woman. Wouldn't change it. The great thing about a cloak of invisibility is that you can take it off or put it back on. Others are not in control of this process. Tonight, I'm going to perform a story live. As I take the stage, they'll have low expectations. Then, I'll swirl off my cloak and dazzle them.
Oh, have fun!
Oh wow! Susan. Knowledge and truth telling pours out rhythmically in this one. It moves along, speaking in tongues! As I read I kept imagining you on the stage pacing the entire length, running into the audience--looking to our eyes ... It's so challenging to try to describe these experiences. And then the layers of the ancients (that you know so much about) and your own journeys! And awakenings! (And I hadn't thought yet, of T. as an archetype, or a mythology--I forgot how you said it). Brava! And besides I smiled laughed so much as I was reading.(I loved how you got to stay in bed and fly places.)
I’m so glad I made you smile and laugh. Right now, I think T. Is so much archetype that he’s like one of those blown out Easter eggs. Just shell and air. Nothing left of the man except archetype.
I'm saving this piece, Susan. I look forward to reading it!
Thanks, Robin. I look forward to your response.
Absolutely delightful! I will come back to this one again and again. 💜
Thank you Linnea. That means so much to me. I enjoyed writing it.
Thank you, Susan. Namaste.
I can only refer you'all to a moment at the beginning of "Die Towerberg se Dans" (the Dance of some of my ancestors, First Nations people): (Coming to Substack, soon ...
Preamble
when you were born, you cried
and the world rejoiced
live your life so
that when you die,
the world cries, and you rejoice
and sing it, in reels (da capo).
attributed to an ancient Navajo song
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Q5dk9Q6ph4)
(it's the best version I could find.)
Or just meditate on this five part riff ...
I wonder ... how many times you’ve ... danced with others?
Let’s start with the fish ... (continues ...)
sitting up high
on the hillside
on the north side
of 2nd Beach
on the wild coast ...
I watched a 25-foot hammerhead shark
lazily swimming
alongside the cliffs
and out to sea
sitting up high
on the cliff edge
many miles south
of Inhambane ...
I watched a school of kingfish
surfing and turning
turning and surfing
all afternoon
as the waves broke over the rock shelf
even further north (of Beira) ...
still, twenty foot underwater,
a huge school of magnificent kingfish
danced past my scuba-mask
in a flash ...
sitting in full lotus
next to the dirt road
in the Franchhoek mountains
late one still, crisp, moonlit night
I reached out
right across the valley
my soul merged
into the distant mountains
sitting in full lotus
beneath the oaks
next to the Bontevlei lake
one full summer’s day
I slowly lowered myself
into a headstand
then folded my lotus-legs
carefully, against me
like a clam
and relaxed.
Rooi Volmaan
September 2nd 2022
Wow. Thank you so much. Your response is always so generous. So beautiful Roy, I love this, and you. The women singing that prayer made me cry. It's so beautiful, I'm going to send it out into the world as a note. Your poetry always moves me. I think we are kindreds.
Susan, me / you too. Courageous (with something about 'transparent' too ... ). Thank you. The woman leading the singing (of the first line of that prayer' (solo, a cappella, upfront and central within decades of mythological, hillside 'tradition') is always enough to stir the heart. Less so as a 'national anthem,' but still ... (the algorithms prevent me sending this as a reply. I'll try as a 'Note')
I got the reply. Glad I did. So beautiful. I woke with it in my heart this morning. Thank you.
This is so brilliant, a brief history of a true awakening with women at the center of it all. I am still waiting for my dark cave days. I've done many deep jungle isolation plant retreats with just tobacco, other times with Mother Aya. Your writing is so clear and FUNNY. I giggled many times as I relate, this is my Jam. I've written only a bit, so many coming homes — here, and you speak of the time needed to integrate and bring it home to daily life. So good. I love this and you.
Thanks, Prajan. I love you too. I knew you would get it. I'm glad it made you giggle. I had several giggles while writing it. Sometimes lines come and will me with glee. Of course, there's so much between the lines, which I'm sure you can also see. I'm so glad.
Witches AND mythology? In one essay? Lucky me! I keep flashing back to a scene in The Witches of Eastwick where the church congregation is vomiting cherries (I think it was cherries). Thank you for sharing your journey so beautifully. I've never considered myself a spiritual being, and so the the idea of being reborn spiritually doesn't come naturally to my sometimes rigid brain...but I have likened menopause to a rebirth, shedding the old skin for the new and so I was able to find familiarity in that. What a gift to be able to travel this road with yourselves, all of them.
OMG. Cherries. I think it was. I met Upkide once. I grew up nearby. Sweet man. I loved that story. I experience menopause as a rebirth, too, when the Great Mother gave me my cloak of invisibility.
OMGod. Susan. This is the most spiritually alive and awake and joyful essay. I hung on every word and read the whole thing twice. My mouth is agape. THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL and spilling over with love, magic, and possibility. Do you remember how I feel like meeting you was me coming in contact with "THE Mother?" That you're a teacher for me? But also, reading this piece, I'm seeing myself in so much of it. That I understand what true joy is, because I'm living it. AND you described reincarnation within this incarnation, so that I could understand the concept in a way I've never thought of before. And taking it out of the realm of Nan dies the old-fashioned way and gets buried and THEN is reincarnated (which is something I'm still skeptical about) and reframing it for me in a way where I can see that I've reincarnated at least several times in this body that I've inhabited for almost 65 years, makes so much sense to me that if you asked me today if I believed in reincarnation, I'd come back with a resounding, "damn right I do." This essay is EVERYTHING. Love you so much. xo
Thank you so much! I love this response so much. The reframing says it all. And that all... is joy. Or it can be. Let's reincarnate that.
RIGHT? Let's reincarnate that. Joy. Did I ever tell you that my 12-Step sponsor's name is Joy?
No, but it sounds like a point on a compas to aim for.
xo