Matrignosis: A Blog About Inner Wisdom

Think Pyschologically; Live Spiritually

Keeping Score June 11, 2013

big-spiderA BIG black spider crosses the porch toward me. What if it climbs up my leg while I’m absorbed in my book? My territory. I consider stepping on it. This feels harsh. Maybe I’ll just relocate it. I slide a piece of paper under it but it leaps onto the nearby wall and scuttles beneath a plank of cedar siding. I turn my rocking chair to watch. Why did it come here? Is it looking for food? A place to weave a web?

“When you have the experience, don’t miss the meaning.” John O’Donohue

This area of the Smoky Mountains is home to the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Nation, a culture rich with legends about animal helpers and teachers. In “Living Stories of the Cherokee” by Barbara R. Duncan, storyteller Kathi Smith Littlejohn tells about a time long ago when there was no fire and everything was dark and cold.  The animals knew there was fire on the other side of the world so they decided to get some.  Buzzard went first, but when he tried to carry hot coals back on the top of his head, he burned all the feathers off. The little black snake, who wasn’t black then, tried next, but the only place he could carry coals was on the back of his neck and it burned his body black all the way down. To this day he’s still black.

Then Grandmother Spider said, “I’ll get the fire.” Of course, the other animals laughed at her, but she said, “I may be small, but I’ll get it.  You watch me.”  So she went to the river and made a little pot of clay. She carried it on her back to the other side of the world, put some hot coals into the pot, and carried them back. That’s how she brought fire to this side of the world and gave the Cherokee people the idea of making pottery.

The mythological motif of the smallest one succeeding when others fail is universal. It teaches that when your intention is sincere and benevolent, fierce determination, careful observation, and creative thinking count more than size, age, gender or physical strength. Can I learn something from careful observation and creative thinking about this spider?

I watch her explorations until I lose her. What did I learn? I think back. I’ve been worrying that my preoccupation with writing dulls my appreciation for the life and beauty that surround me so I came out to the porch to get out of my Mind. One point for Nature. But I brought a book with me! One point for Mind.

My first instinct was to kill the spider. Instincts are Nature.  Point. But when I recognized my instinctive response I decided to spare her. Choosing to override an instinct comes from the Mind. Point.

I reflected on this experience.  Reflection is both Nature (according to Jung it’s a natural human instinct) and Mind (it requires a deliberate choice to use cognitive skills).  Point. Point.

Three points each so far.  But here’s the tie-breaker:  I took notes! Then I turned the experience into another blog post.  Darn! My writer animus is relentless!  As usual, Mind trumps Matter.

I worry. Is this imbalance in my personality a bad thing? Just as taking action satisfied Grandmother Spider’s need to bring life-giving fire to her community, writing satisfies my need to understand myself and help others acquire self-knowledge. So what’s the difference between us?  I worry about which aspects of my personality are dark, which are bright, and which side’s winning. She’s too busy doing her thing to worry. Here’s Grandmother Spider’s message to me:  “Keeping score is more appropriate to gaming than living.  Your job is not to perfect every aspect of your personality;  it’s to do the work you are uniquely suited to.”

You can find Healing the Sacred Divide at this Amazon site and at Larson Publications, Inc.

 

Love Letter to the Unknown June 4, 2013

87175589My dear friends and followers,

Three and-a-quarter years ago, on March 10, 2010, my spirit stepped out on a new adventure. With a minimum of technical expertise and a maximum of self-doubt, I published my first blog post. The idea came from my agent and editor, Paul Cash, who thought a blog would be a good venue for my writing and a place where potential publishers could see samples of my work.

At his suggestion, a few months earlier I had hired a social media trainer. With infinite patience and remarkable skill, Dawn Jensen gently nudged me into the new and exciting world of the internet, the vast potential of which I was previously barely aware. Initially, the challenges of writing and publishing two posts a week, (which seemed doable at that time), plus learning and navigating the intricacies of Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn, were enormous.

Obstacles presented by my personality were equally daunting. A major hurdle was my distaste for self-promotion. But since publishers are rarely attracted to writers who hide their lights under bushels, I knew this was something I needed to overcome. Another problem was that, conditioned from youth to keep my most meaningful truths to myself, I rarely expressed them in public lest I be misunderstood, ridiculed or criticized. Of course, it was initially daunting to share them in my books, but I soon realized that when it comes to avoiding immediacy and intimacy, a book works even better than a persona because it gives you much more time to think before you “speak.” However, two appearances a week can severely test the vigilance of even the most scrupulous mask-wearer.

Fortunately, in matters of real import to my soul, my self-doubting Orphan rarely bests my intrepid Warrior and he pushed on. Had he not, I would have missed one of the most soul-satisfying experiences of my life. I’ve said this before, but to be sure you’ve heard me I need to say it one last time:  my relationships with the people I’ve met through this blog have become, like my grandchildren, the love affair of my old age.

Nonetheless, for several months now, Changing Woman has been eroding the boundaries of my routine and nudging me into new terrain. I can’t see the path yet, but I can read the signs: Warrior needs a rest and Wisewoman wants to move on. Neither will be left behind because both have more work to do, but for now, more balance is required.

As this chapter ends I don’t yet know what the next one will bring, so in this time of transition I ask for your forbearance. Traveling alone used to be enough for me but now I cannot imagine continuing without the companionship of fellow travelers. Perhaps we will meet only once a week for a while, perhaps less often. But I’ll still be here and I hope you’ll still want to connect. Your kind and timely thoughts, like the call I synchronistically received from my dear friends Sam and Eleanor as I was finishing this just moments ago, have made a profound difference in my life.  For all who have shared your journey with me here, I send this blessing:

For a New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,

Where your thoughts never think to wander,

This beginning has been quietly forming,

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety

And the grey promises that sameness whispered,

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream,

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear

You can trust the promise of this opening;

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning

That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will be home in a new rhythm

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

   John O’Donohue

                              Benedictus:  A Book of Blessings

 

 
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