The process known as the life cycle can be understood through the symbol of the seed. In order for it to live to its fullest potential it must go down into the darkest dark and wait. Time must pass in this dark place where it does not yet know what it is doing. Then, something happens to it—warmth comes. The seed does not make seasons change, life does that. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, everything starts breaking apart and all that was inside it pushes out. To someone who doesn’t understand nature, the process of life being in constant cycles of creation, those that happen regardless of desire, behavior, or choices– to this seed, it would look like complete and utter catastrophe.
Dear you, human being, do you believe you have not come from the equivalent of this seed?
“We are living in an age of radical discontinuity. The lessons come faster and faster as our souls and the universe push us into new growth. Familiar waters seem suddenly perilous, alive with uncharted shoals and shifting sandbars. The old maps are outdated, we require new navigational aids. And the inescapable fact is: you are your own cartographer now… A shift of a few degrees at the beginning of any voyage will mean a vastly different position far out to sea.”
I woke up at 5 am with a feeling of hope. The last night of The Moon of the Dark Teacher, and with it a welcome energetic shift. Dawn hasn’t happened yet but I know the world will look fresh and clean and new when the light comes to several inches of new snow on the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. I feel like I have so much more clarity today. The metaphor that came to me is that I’m just not going to be a fish. A fish can’t live in the air. All these years I’ve been trying to live under water, acquiring more and more ‘things’ to make that possible. But always feeling suspicious that my ‘things’ would fail and so getting more things to assure success. But I have wings that don’t work if I have too much weight. Irony is not without sense of humor. I’ve been trying, with only moderate success, to be a fish. It hasn’t killed me yet, but imagine how we winged ones can thrive if we stop trying to live under water! I think that is part of what my sabbatical time has meant for me. I really see all the ways I’ve tried to be normal. At last I really see how ridiculous that has been. Aren’t you as tired as I am of the weight of all of this? The water even, it is so compressing to be under it! Let’s all start filling our lungs to capacity with AIR… then we’ll buoy on the surface and slide effortlessly with the current until our wings are dry enough to work for us. I feel better just thinking about it. When I looked up what ‘wings’ mean symbolically, I found