Weaving Gold

Mokosha, Anastasia Sophia, and Me, Natalia . . . while the books are written

Expressing What Lives Inside Me

IMAGE CREDIT: Carol Cavalaris

IMAGE CREDIT: Carol Cavalaris

If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.
~ Gospel of Thomas

Inside each of us simmer and rattle countless ideas, initiatives, and impetuses clambering to be brought forth. No one story, poem, song, sculpture, painting, relationship, business, or adventure is enough. We are never done, even if we can call it quits at any time. I am perpetually, simultaneously saving and destroying myself. I bring forth, and I repress. I create, and I oppress. I think too much, and do too little.

Because the books that want to be written are foremost in my mind, when I read bring forth what is within in you, I think I need to write this book, or the other, now. I think I’m destroying myself by not writing. I tell myself my delaying, my ebb and flow are resistance, my writer’s excuse. I scoff at my fears: they are not real.

IMG_0489Rock Climbing

This summer, at age 46 and moderate (at best) physical fitness, I tried rock climbing for the first time. It was a modified, safer kind of rock climbing, but I found it exhilarating. A few weeks ago, I began indoor climbing with my fifteen-year old son. He could climb 45-feet to the top on the first day. I’m — not quite there. (Okay. Not even close.)

My favorite things to do are read, sit on the beach, laugh during dinner with my family, and walk in the woods. I am not a thrill-seeker. My adventures are safe and tame: trying new foods, travel to calm places, snorkeling, fishing, kayaking. And yet, I’ve been driving to the climbing gym twice each week. I’ve been strapping myself into a harness, and letting my son belay for me. I’ve been climbing with trembling, jelly arms.

While I’m on the wall, I feel fine. But a night, or when I am quiet, I am TERRIFIED. Yes, all caps, full-body, heart-thumping, mind-reeling SCARED. Fear rolls through me. I imagine, without wanting to, falling, being shattered. Worse, much worse, I imagine my son falling.

With climbing, the dangers aren’t metaphorical. I have good, logical reasons to be afraid. Writing is terrifying, too. What if my books are published, and hated? What if I write for the next three decades, and no one reads, no one cares, my work doesn’t affect anyone, in any way at all?

The Two Sides of the Coin, again

Everything matters, and nothing matters. I don’t have to write or climb or cook dinner for my family, but if I don’t enough, I will surely let repression destroy me. And so, I do. I climb, because daring dwells inside me. I cook, because love dwells inside me. I write, because stories dwell inside me. I save myself.

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Time to See

54210051 (1)If only I knew the secret,
If only it could be told,
I'd know when to rest, be dormant.
I'd know when to burst forth, be bold.

If only my insight were crystal,
microscope-telescope-blade,
I'd slice off distortion, see clearly the truth,
Remember how this game is played.

The rule books are mistranslated.
Pages are missing, words marred.
The time is returning, fog clearing,
Re-livening that which was charred.

When I recall my knowing,
See with eyes that are closed,
Rainbows shall sing, quarks will sparkle.
All secrets shall be exposed.
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~ Seek, to Find

~ Seek to Find Seeking to glean inspiring wisdom Upon the ancients we all must call Scribed in tablets, papyrus, conceptions Alchemy, the philosopher’s stone recall Seeking that which evades Humanities For lack of modern day misconceptions Thirst must be satiated in the present Though upon the past lie inspirations Someday therefore upon a precipice […]

https://ladyliterati.wordpress.com/2015/10/30/seek-to-find/

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Aware of Myself

0495f949f6d45af589dd208e5a861345Prompt 5: The Emperor is a director and overseer, bringing order where chaos can reign supreme.  He’s logic, reason, experience, and boundary protection. Write about where you could use the energy of The Emperor to protect your boundaries. Where are you allowing energy or time leaks to occur?

October 7, 2014: Chaos is reigning in my beautiful, orderly life. It is rampaging through every cell in my body. It is wreaking havoc, destroying every idea and ideal that I’ve held.

October 27, 2015: I have been leaking, bleeding, energy and time, for almost four years. I have been purged, emptied, and depleted. My boundaries have kept me safe, and isolated. No thing and no persons were allowed in, even when I yearned to be nourished, replenished, and connected. The Emperor did his job well.

Now is the time to be the Emperor. I do not need to fight against anybody or anything. I am rising. My true nature is revealed. I shall live in accordance with my magnificence.

“One cannot be humble and aware of oneself at the same time.”
― Madeleine L’EngleA Circle of Quiet


Writing Prompt from Lyn Thurman. You can receive the full prompts from Writing the Wisdom of the Soul.

Images are from the Osho Zen Tarot, an amazing, consciousness-expanding deck.

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Stillness is Possible

c0c92aebbaf31181b608ee46b10be7fdPrompt 3: Channel your inner High Priestess and ask her to reveal your potential, the wisdom written on the scroll. Write her wisdom.

October 3, 2014: Symbols slide around the page. I roll down the bottom rod, scanning vanishing words. The images are baffling and before I discern meaning, the scroll bursts into flame. (But I see and hear something.)

October 22, 2015: Don’t look. Your eyes will deceive you. Even your inner vision will lead you astray, programmed as it has been with all you’ve seen, seen, seen through millennia of deceptions and distortions.

Listen, but not to the first words  you hear. Listen deeper. Feel the resonance, there for a second, then seemingly gone, but ringing true, radiating out.

Stillness is possible.

Soar.

The flapping days are over.

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Writing Prompt from Lyn Thurman. You can receive the full prompts from Writing the Wisdom of the Soul.

Images are from the Osho Zen Tarot, an amazing, consciousness-expanding deck.

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Alchemy of Three

FullSizeRender

Prompt 2: The Magician brings the tools to write the story. Write about the miracles you want or need to manifest with your miracle-maker kit.  What’s going to make your journey sweeter?

October 2, 2014: The magician has delivered my miracle-maker kit. I am grateful for each item, but I’ve been on The Journey long enough to know that it is I who am the miracle-maker, or not. Tools can be useful, but they are inert. I must determine how and when to wield them.

October 21, 2015: I need a miracle, specifically, to be infused with an alchemical blend of inspiration, passion, and stamina. I thought, almost wrote, that I need inspiration mixed with discipline, but discipline is a stale ingredient, one that served me well in my old world but has no place here, now. In my old world, requirements were clear. I understood the rules, operated in accordance with them, and achieved expected outcomes. In the world that is emerging for/in/through me, rules have been scattered in winds, sizzled in infernos, drowned in tsunamis, suffocated in swamps.

Not long ago, most people grew, sewed, built, and otherwise created what they needed. Today, I can subsist without creating anything. But subsisting is not satisfying, so I must create meaning-beauty-luminosity with/in/through me. It has become impossible to fake it, bewildering to know which way or why or how to go.

I need a miracle. I need to be infused with an alchemical blend of inspiration, passion, and stamina, so that I may write, create, and live.


Writing Prompt from Lyn Thurman. You can receive the full prompts from Writing the Wisdom of the Soul.

Images are from the Osho Zen Tarot, an amazing, consciousness-expanding deck.

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Here I Go Again

IMG_1316In the cycle of seasons, autumn is a time of completion. Trees bear last fruit and drop leaves. Gardens yield late produce. Animals prepare for hibernation. The time for dormancy approaches.

Inculcated with decades of September school-year starts, I am out of sync with nature. For me, fall is the time for beginnings. I am dusting off works in progress and fall cleaning. I am preparing to write and create.

Last autumn, I participated in Lyn Thruman’s October Writing Challenge: Writing the Wisdom of the Soul, a writing journey through the major arcana of the TarotThis morning, sitting in silence, I pulled the Fool Card from my OSHO Zen Tarot deck and was drawn to the begin a new loop of the journey. Here I go again.

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OSHO Zen Tarot

Prompt 1: Write about a journey you want to take in life…

October 1, 2014: The journey I want to take has been called “the longest journey you will make in your life.”  The path I wish to travel is from my head to my heart.

October 20, 2015: One year later, I want to take a more tangible journey, one with a simple (if not easy) goal. I intend to travel metaphorically, literally writing to the end the novel I started almost a year ago.

I had mixed feelings about joining NaNoWriMo last year, but a story dropped into my head, so jumped in. I intended to complete a light-hearted novella by November 30, 2014, for a NaNoWin. The idea introduced itself to me as fun and easy, a way to play with writing before I got back to my Big Serious WIP. The concept is fun and easy, but writing it has challenged me.

I wrote, and then I didn’t write. I was inspired, and then I was drained, distracted, and detoured. My excuses reasons are common. Life/obligations/laziness got in the way. Sometimes, I neglected butt in chair time, but often, even when I sat, everything perfectly prepared and aligned, words refused to come. I half-wanted to quit many times, but the idea of Zirka’s Zany Zenanigans is persistent. It wants to see itself in print.

Recently, I’ve been re-inspired. Playing Menna van Praag’s Sentence Game reminded me that writing is fun, and Menna has pointed out that I’m good at it. I’ve also been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic podcasts and book. I am in love with Liz’s approach to and relationship with creativity.

So, here I am on Day 0, stepping off the cliff, leaving past failures and uncertainties behind (may they become compost for a field of poppies). I trust that I will travel by typing to the end of my manuscript and that Zirka’s Zany Zenanigans will soon be in the hands of an agent and publisher. One. Two. Three. Step.

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Staying Alive

IMG_1411I am somewhere; I’m not sure where. It doesn’t seem to matter. Nothing matters, and everything matters. This I’ve learned: there are two sides to every coin. What I want to know is, what’s in the middle? What’s between/inside the head and the tail?

I am somewhere; I’m not sure where. I see a pink sky and yellow trees. The path before me is purple. There is a hum-buzz in the air. I am immersed in a magical place, in a splendiferous time. I stand rooted, immobilized, magnified and compressified. I am taking in oxygen, but I can barely breathe. Nothing matters. Everything matters.

Shall I send down roots, plant myself here, now, stay forever, fornever? Shall I soar into the pinkness, munch the yellowness, and/or charge onto the lavender lane? Shall I breathe, once more, or shall I cease? Shall I listen, or bury my head in the sand? Am I to live in this Some I-don’t-know Where, or can I figure out how to creep, intrude, insinuate-infuse myself into the mysterious center?

Writing Prompt
“I am somewhere; I’m not sure where, it doesn’t seem to matter.”
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I’m the one?

Having fun with Menna van Praag‘s Sentence Game. Today’s sentence: 

“Mrs Whitaker found the Holy Grail; it was under a fur coat in her closet.” Smoke & Mirrors, Neil Gaiman

Mrs. Witaker found the Holy Grail; it was under a fur coat in her closet. She had not known she was looking for it, had never thought about the cup of myth and legend, had not known she needed it. But, oh! She recognized it immediately, knew exactly what it was, and remembered, in an intense, dramatic whoosh, why she needed it. It was personal and global. Planet Earth needed the Holy Grail at this moment. And she was the one who was worthy and capable to wield it.

Her body trembled, resonated to a note struck somewhere in the cosmos. She felt herself coming alive, growing, glowing.Now is the time. Recall your powers. Embody your essence.

She felt the words. Ha! — Mrs. Whitaker leaped and grinned. She had long sensed that she was much more than a librarian. She had the skills to tap into and harvest the wisdom of the ages.

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Surviving the Storm in the Sea

I am
overwhelmed,
and underwhelmed.
overwrought,
and pervaded with deep peace.
fearful at every turn,
and confident that all is well.

I desire
the riches of a queen
the wisdom of a sage
the flexibility of a yogini,
and I want for nothing.

I seekmaelstroms_doctors_cove
reasons, explanations, knowing.

But there is no clarity in a maelstrom.

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