Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

guest re-post: Herman Hesse on trees

February 3, 2019

Herman Hesse on trees  

When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live. When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.

~ Hermann Hesse

via Philip Carr-Gomm

the-wind-garden-hero

Advertisements

guest post from OBOD: AWEN leads to Phoenix art school

August 23, 2018

How Druidry Helped Create a Successful Art School in Phoenix, Arizona

metroarts1-1

Metro Magic and the Subtle Laws of Manifestation: The Story of How Druidry Helped Create a Successful Art School in Phoenix, Arizona
by Matthew Thomas Baker – Druid and Arts Educator

excerpt:

Looking back, years later, I have come to see that we learned in those early years, to live on the creative edge of life itself. There were many other small and medium-size Metro magical moments over the years. Once we became more established they seemed to move from securing our site and on to manifesting for the students themselves. Time and time again the right students have found their way to us. We have grown to over 250 students aged 13-18, and they are all engaged in the creative process. Through the art-making process, they explore the invisible curriculum that teaches how to live on the edge, take risks, and listen for what wants to emerge in their art and by extension their lives.

The school has, of course, gone on to deal with other serious challenges, for each stage of organizational growth presents its own unique hurdles to overcome. Yet, in all those stages the underlying faith in the process that was established in the early years continued to guide me and the school. Even in the face of deep criticism and even betrayal, we have continued to listen for what wants to arise in the space. At each hurdle we have found a way through or around the challenge. The path has always been one of learning, the most meaningful of which has also been deeply humbling, for it is always something just out of one’s capacity to see or understand that must be learned.

Creative transformation is the underlying process and purpose of magic. It is, in essence, what the universe is up to. After all these years of connecting to the source of my own inspiration and letting the AWEN flow through, I have come to see that magic works because we align ourselves with what is already happening and wants to happen. Sometimes, we do not want certain things to happen, but we cannot see all the ways in which the unfolding of the story is part of the larger tapestry of our growth and development.

Perhaps, in the end, we are all destined to become both mystics and magicians. Perhaps we are designed to connect with the radiant source of our inspiration while we learn to midwife the inspired dreams of our shared hearts into existence. If we can sense and trust what wants to emerge from within and learn to rest in the underlying unity of what is, then we can develop the magical capacity to shape our world into a more beautiful and elegant place.

Epilogue:

Metro Arts continues to thrive and has moved into stage three of organizational development. This later stage of growth ensures that Metro will last long after the founders are gone, and will continue to be of service to the many young people who find their way to the school. Today Matthew Baker continues as Head of School, while at the same time he feels called to the next stage of life’s adventure. He has co-founded a new institute which is committed to braiding together the insights of the Nondual mystical traditions with the creative and deeply transformative capacities of the Shamanic traditions. These two wisdom streams have been and continue to be an integral part of the development and management of Metro Arts. Matthew’s goal is to develop tools and pathways that help others help themselves to bring their own authentic contribution to the world, and in that process develop meaning and purpose in their lives.

https://www.philipcarr-gomm.com/how-druidry-helped-create-a-successful-art-school-in-phoenix-arizona/

art by Frida Kahlo

Spending a year with Dame Judi Dench’s trees

March 22, 2018

Judi Dench: My Passion For Trees Full Program

They begin at winter, the traditional Druid year’s beginning.   It’s excellent.

Groves are communities indeed,  even scientifically.  On World Water Day, blessings from my grove to yours.

the-wind-garden-hero

Samhain wisdom from the Crafty Kitchen Witch

October 31, 2013

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave …and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye – 1932

(6) Facebook.

The veil between worlds thins. Ancestors visit. Beloved and not so beloved dead are close enough to touch.

(6) Facebook

What will you let in, what will you banish, before the wheel of the year turns deeper into the winter’s dark?  Choose wisely.   Leap high over the fire.

  Seeds of spring are tucked in now to rise again after the season of sleep.  On the other side of the world they are already rising.

Make room.

A Great New Anti-Fracking Initiative in the UK | Philip Carr-Gomm’s Weblog

October 14, 2013

A Great New Anti-Fracking Initiative in the UK | Philip Carr-Gomm’s Weblog.

See If your UK postcode is vulnerable to hydraulic fracturing and register your legal objection.

It’s high Summer: Do you realize?? – The Flaming Lips[lyrics] – YouTube

July 8, 2012

Do you realize?? – The Flaming Lips[lyrics] – YouTube.

The time of Lugh the Long Hand, practitioner of all arts, is upon us, in the midst of Leo, ruled by the Sun. This particular year there are excessive floods in some places and scorching drought in other. But upon the whole, Earth continues to spin. Those in Southerm hemisphere are welcoming back

flame

longer days. Here where my Grove is, the heat is at its peak, flowers bloom and wither, fruits swell and first harvest is upon us, as in the lovely video.

This year it feels too hot for Helgaleena to emulate a Burning Man. I will celebrate with a flame in my heart and wish to the sodden regions that they keep the candle lit.

Lesson 277: Infinite Peace

In the center of the rose
a diamond burns forever
larger than all the worlds
more brilliant than any sun.
In the Divine Heart
of the Beloved
Infinite Passion arises in
Infinite Peace.

– Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
(Translated by Andrew Harvey from A Year of Rumi)

The Carrot, the Egg and the Coffee Bean; a Kitchen Fable– with bonus Chickpea.

October 24, 2011

I found this on Facebook in a group called Exceptional Living and promptly decided to broadcast it.

Story: Handling Adversity: Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots. In the second, she placed eggs and the last one, she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what you see?”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted they got soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma.

The daughter then asked, “What’s the point, mom?” Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity–the boiling water–but each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its insides became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water. “Which one are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?

Or am I like a coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.

When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

~ Author Unknown

Speaking for myself, my ego would like to be the coffee bean who changes the water that boiled me. However, in the process I would lose my shape completely and be thrown out while the water would be relished. I think the lesson here is that no matter what sort of effect the boiling pot of life has upon us, it renders us more palatable than we were before. Cooked carrots and eggs are good, and coffee is great!

Here is a famous poem by Rumi about boiling chickpeas. http://wildriceblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/chickpea-poem.html

A chickpea leaps almost over the rim of the pot where it’s being boiled. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The cook knocks him down with the ladle. “Don’t you try to jump out. You think I’m torturing you.

I’m giving you flavor, so you can mix with spices and rice and be the lovely vitality of a human being.

Remember when you drank rain in the garden. That was for this.”

Grace first. Sexual pleasure, then a boiling new life begins, and the Friend has something good to eat.

Eventually the chickpea will say to the cook, “Boil me some more. Hit me with the skimming spoon.

I can’t do this by myself. I’m like an elephant that dreams of gardens back in Hindustan and doesn’t pay attention to his driver.

You’re my cook, my driver, my way into existence. I love your cooking.”

The cook says, “I was once like you, fresh from the ground.

Then I boiled in time, and boiled in the body, two fierce boilings. My animal soul grew powerful.

I controlled it with practices, and boiled some more, and boiled once beyond that, and became your teacher.”

Rumi

Eclipse transmission

July 23, 2009

http://www.towleroad.com/2009/07/watch-longest-total-solar-eclipse-of-the-century-darkens-asia.html

Eclipse to Me :

my darling hush

for you have lived

to be old

still wear

your rainbow crown

streams still flow

pains dissolving risen remain

and there will be

places to see

people to do

first fruits to pluck

wicker men to burn

and stories