“However the psychology of the individual corresponded to the psychology of the nation, and only the transformation of the attitude of the individual could bring about cultural renewal” ~ Jung
Getting older makes time faster. Cars seem to race around the neighborhood faster. Red fire trucks, and alarms ringing, race faster. Around and around as I look at my youth trying to look outwards away, instead! To new things as centripetal force pulls me into the middle. Reflect, reflect and reflect painfully. Sucked into the layers of faces, words and feelings.
Wings extend out in moments of inspiration. Doing art is sharing; is support. I fly. I read that it is not until you show your art that it is complete. A finished piece of art has to be viewed.
No time for the past and youthful dreams. Now the future moves faster and inspiration to share parallels this reality. In my world, in my neighborhood, in my city, state, nation, and earth… the cosmos even!!
I fly with inspiration.
Yet contrary to this is the middle….Slow down perching as wings begin to fold inward. Time to view feelings and think quality of time with each heartbeat.
The mind is designed to lie.The heart has a mind of its own and when you put the mind and heart together strange things can happen… but then there is the sex organ mind that has a power pull of its own too. Then there is the conscience mind that an episode of X-files defines as:
“Conscience is dead people whispering to us.”
The dead may see things and know truths that we alive humans can’t understand. Not just the dead but nature and characters such as Jiminy Cricket and billions of crickets chirping every night help us with our conscious mind.
Why?
Maybe because we should not be telling lies!! It is an impossible situation. Listening to crickets chirp at night for about 15 minutes can help us to become more aware. The overwhelming gravity of constant sex calls throughout the night can force our thinking inward.
Helping us to feel regret about some of the lies we said that day. Maybe there is something to those old fairy tales after all. Who wants their nose to grow every time they tell a lie?
Some well-seasoned anxiety sprinkled on top.
Then there is the gut. We all can feel that gut feeling. Do we listen to it? I have a fine-tuned gut, well not physically but intuitively. I know when something is not right by listening to it. I know when I hear a lie. It feels like chaos and looks like the fog with well-seasoned anxiety sprinkled on top.
I prefer following my gut.
Lies are not all bad. We have all told them to protect people we love. Here comes Santa Claus, There Goes Peter Cottontail and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas are humongous subtle lies some of us tell our children. (Even though I still believe in them personally.)
The lies that really hurt us, others or the world in general are the big lies that suppress us as a people. Governments, corporations, and organized religion are good at these types of big black widow lies.
These are the kind of lies our government told to our American Indian brothers and sisters.
The throwing in the wrench lie.
Then to conclude this little essay I will speak about the throwing in the wrench lie. It is when you tell a lie in order to see how gossip spreads. This is a fun one to practice. This is what gangsters do in order to find out where their loyalties lie. I have done this a couple of times to see where my loyalties abide but I prefer following my gut. It never lies!
“I guess every form of refuge has its price…” ain’t that the truth…
On the way home from picking my kid up from school we talked about Ancient Egyptians. He is learning about different aspects of their culture. He is studying mummification. He explained to me in detail how organs, such as the brain, were pulled out of a dead person’s nose. All organs were taken out or the body before starting the process of mummification. He said the heart was not removed because they believed that the heart was the most important organ. It did the thinking. What a wonderful thing for my son to realize. Egyptians understood life with the heart not so much the brain, defiantly a lost art in our culture. They loved cats… even the mummies I hear!!
SPell 186 from the Egyptian Book of the Dead
Hathor; Lady of the West; She of the West; Lady of the Sacred Land;
Eye of Re with which on his forehead; kindly of countenance in the Bark of Millions of Years;
a resting-place for him who has done right within the boat of the blessed;
who built the Great Bark for Osiris in order to cross the water of truth.
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