Cosmos and Psyche by Richard Tarnas

I am reading this book now! I found out about it through a WordPress site that I visit called Holes To Heavens by Adam Sommer. Adam has a great site to visit and is an astrologer.
Cosmos and Psyche by Richard Tarnas is an amazing book about human consciousness. He takes us on a journey of the humanities and the mind, and patterns of being. Richard Tarnas is a cultural historian and professor of philosophy and depth psychology. The title of his book defines the contents of the chapters. The relationship of us with the cosmos is a fascinating subject to me.
As a Romantic, I recommend this as a must read book, and a book to have available on your favorite bookshelf. It is a delightfully wordy, intense and insightful book that incorporates history, culture and spirituality. I feel I have, so far, grasped the thesis of Richards’s book as:

Above all we must awaken to and overcome the great hidden anthropocentric projection that has virtually defined the modern mind: the pervasive projection of soullessness onto the cosmos by the modern self’s own will to power.( page 41 paragraph two)

Understanding what Richard is telling us is so very important to know. In our modern time of discord, and at times of hopelessness, we can develop a relationship with our inner world, our outer world and the cosmos in a new and creative way. In his book we find some old friends, the foresight of Blake, Jung and Goethe resonate in his book as affirmations of a new and hopeful world.

Synchronicity is like breathing…as above so below!!

Holes To Heavens

.: Home :.

Pluto and Moon

The Coming of Wisdom with Time:

Though leaves are many, the root is one;

Through all the lying days of my youth

I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;

Now I may wither into the truth.

~ William Butler Yeasts

The last times of Elton John in my life..1970s and the best of him Bernie Taupin XX

Mr. Leprechaun’s Ode to the Dandelion

I am sure there are multibillion dollar businesses to kill the dandelion. ~ Mr. Leprechaun.

I noticed that there are dandelions growing in everyone’s garden after the rain.

I have wild places in my garden where I let the dandelions grow wild again. The birds like them, and the bees and hummingbirds love them. Yellow green sturdy little wild things they are. I love them too. This is an ode to them.

While almost asleep and with the window open to feel the breeze during my nap time, I heard a little story in the wind …

Did you know that if you let the dandelion grow in your garden and on your lawn it is the perfect place for a little leprechaun to rest; in case they cannot find a mushroom that is? If you walk by and see one drinking, it may very well be dandelion beer. They will ask to share some with you. Their pints are about as big as they are. It would be about a cup full for a human being. So, the story I heard is this and it became strangely intimate.

“If you are kind enough to take a sip of me earthy brew, a couple of valuable gold coins will show up on your front door dear.”

“Really I whispered?”

“Yes, and as you pick up the gold, whisper to the wind how the beer tasted to you!”

“I see.”

“I want the truth lassie. No lies. Then I will give you two more gold coins.”

“I hear you.” I spoke.

“Share this story… if you will, Because I need them dandelions to make me brews!!”

Drink me brew, drink me brew

Three pints for me and one for you

Dandelions make a great big stew

Green, yellow and nectar too.

Birds are singing and flowers are wooing

Feet are dancing and twilight coming

We are here and dance and laugh

Rich with gold, gems and beer!!

Dandelions here, Dandelions there

Let them grow, let them grow

Me dear, me dear

Let them grow me dear!!”

Coyote Hill

Wild thistle..Watercolor by Hudley

Saying goodbye to my family home that I was born to and grew up in is difficult. Seeing Coyote Hill as one of the last hills not to be claimed by a house is rewarding and comforting to me.

On top of Coyote Hill one can almost see the whole San Fernando Valley. It is close to a 360-degree view.

The Verdugo Mountains, Warner Center, turning, Canoga Park, turning, Topanga Canyon, turning, the Santa Monica Mountains, turning and then back to Woodland Hills; then to the house where I grew up.

Climbing to the top of Coyote Hill was a natural workout depending on the time of year. In summer and autumn, it is mostly dry dirt. During winter towards spring the hill had all sorts of wild weeds, flowers, and herbs. My favorite time is when the tall green grass and the purple lupine grew. The worst time is the beautiful but dangerous wild purple thistle that tore up your legs or the fox tails that got caught in my socks.

How many times did I climb Coyote Hill to get away to the place where silence was reachable? I followed the peaceful breeze and experienced the free and wonderful cool blowing sounds of life.

Silence is a more peaceful feeling inside than the absence of sound. Coyote Hill supplied all the silence a growing child needed!

While walking or driving by in-car or on my bike, I have watched a few wild coyotes take the path up this hill. Once on the very tip-top one turned to look at me.

My mom’s dreams come true.

She told us about the dreams she had where houses would be built up all around our home. Houses cover the hills now, but not Coyote Hill. As kids, my friends and I would tear down the realtor for sale signs to stop the builders. We could not stop them.

In my dreams I see a big gazebo on Coyote Hill. A path climbs up to it and a path down the other side. It is a free place for anyone to experience wild silence. In my dream I interfere with the natural cycle and plant some native California plants mixed with lots of lavender, rosemary, and sage. I would also supply some sort of water source for the dry months of summer and autumn.

The Verdugo Mountains, image taken from my family home where I grew up.

“The Verdugo Mountains are a small, rugged mountain range of the Transverse Ranges system in Los Angeles County. Sometimes called “the Front Range,” the Verdugos are entirely surrounded by urban development. The Verdugo Mountains represent an isolated wildlife island.”

Mantis

My totem, medicine and shield

nature politics

the mantis knows how I feel…

Mantis’s August rendezvous

Big Ma Ma golden Mantis is my love of nature and she knows me!!

Big Ma Ma golden Mantis is my love for nature and she knows me!!

August is slow and not one praying mantis has come to visit me; every August I wait for Big Ma Ma golden Mantis to come visit me after laying her egg sack. (This is in case you don’t already know this… dear reader).

“Goodbye until we meet again in Spring…sweet autumn is near.”

Is what she always seems to tell me.

Today the outside sewer drainage pipe ran over, and the bowels of hell came forth. I rolled up my pants and got to work cleaning. The rubber pipe outside is under the Praying Mantis tree with purple flowers. I called Mr. Faucetman to drill the sewer line. I don’t think Lance is going to fit under this tree. So, after shoveling, digging, and cleaning, I trimmed the tree back. I was very careful to look for any praying mantis.

I also went to Home Depot to get some tree mulch to put around the pipe and two trees close by; covering anything left and to also cover some tree roots. I like how it gives my front yard a manicured, earthy, and fresh look.

I then looked down and my heart skipped a beat because I saw her on a small ash tree weed. I showed her my hand and she slowly approached and walked up to it. Then I put her up on a solid branch from her tree…. She was so close to her tree where I had recently disturbed her.

obscurity-absurdity

How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul, and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?

The limousine drove up and parked near the vegetable produce store. It was a cold morning and the mist from storm drains, coffees shops and exhausts merged and played in the air. A round woman was bending over some tomatoes and grabbed one to put in her cart. At that time, her headdress fell exposing her face and grey hair. She must have been about seventy years old.

A man in the limousine saw her before. It was part of his routine to park and look at her in the morning. He followed her routine too, yet she looked different to him of course. He sensed it and today he saw it as he thought to himself,

“Women today never age past thirty. Plastic surgery is as common as buying toilet paper. Why is she not young-looking as well?”

He was intrigued with this woman who held herself with such natural grace and wisdom. Her deep purple headdress highlighted the grey in her hair. Today he got out of his dark car and walked over near to her.

“Yes, the tomatoes look fresh today!”

“Yes,” she said with a firm look in her eyes.

He then noticed the wrinkles forming around her eyes and mouth, and as they continued to talk her words and facial expressions showed so much wisdom. He thought to himself,

“I can see that every wrinkly has an echo of many laughs and tears. Her experience from living life shows on her face. This is refreshing and honest. I think I will ask her for a ride in my car.”

“Not today but maybe tomorrow.”

This went on for a few weeks until the day when she said yes. They spent the day driving around the city in his cool limousine. He offered her pink champagne and in return she told him why.

“I am not like other women, I know. I will tell you why. As our culture became more and more obsessed with beauty, I became more and more withdrawn. I had a wild tomato plant growing near a drainage ditch near the end of my small backyard in the city.

Throughout the year I watched it grow, from blossoms, fruit and then towards slow decay. I’ve learned to appreciate the life cycles of the tomatoes plant and of nature in general. This is the tomato wisdom shared with me!

He held her softy and listened.

“How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul, and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?”

And so, the two of them found a small room in the city and grew older together. Keeping to themselves and growing a small little garden with herbs, flowers and of course tomatoes.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/12/writing-challenge-health/

Daily Prompt: Four Stars

Rings of a tree are the chapters that tell the story of a tree’s life. They live a very long time. They sleep alive unconsciously but very dependent and receptive to the physical and spiral world around them. As their physical body sways in the wind their vital body takes in life assimilates; while also being involved in the process of letting go of life: excretion.

Photosynthesis and carbon dioxide is the life of a tree. We are very dependent on trees for their processes of life. We have a physical body and a vital body too, but unlike trees we can walk, talk, and cut them down.

Hecate in general is the ancient goddess of maiden, mother, and crone. She represents the three rings of a woman’s life. Not all women take this path and some men do it better than women, I am now on the third ring. The three rings do spiral around like a tree and blend. Yet, there is a definite stage for each ring.

The image below describes the story of my life. Collectively, consciously, and unconsciously I have grown with these three different rings of life.

If one could dive into any one of the three rings of my life, they would find a different person.

Youth or maidenhood was irresponsible, wild, and free… her life seemed to go on forever.

Motherhood is when my children taught me responsibility, joy, and love.

Crone-hood is teaching me how to be enduring, respect others, to know what real friendship is and what community is,

Life is precious and every moment counts for something.

I invite other women, and men, to create a three-ring image of themselves… for those who have lived as long….

The weight of the world for the mantis species !!

Who needs to use chemicals, poisons or pesticides when you have us in the garden … there is absolutely no reason too… I go after, too many, crickets, aphids, black widows, and termites. I keep things in balance. Yes, sometimes I get a little greedy and go after a butterfly… but I am your comrade: your friend of the garden… and sometimes on tall buildings in the city I am one with superman….

praying-mantis-pink-flower-portrait-thumb7855866

There is magic in all gardens….Weekly Photo Challenge: In the Background

**One with a shadow of a tree in my garden.**

Our little Sony Cyber-Shot camera takes amazing pictures. This camera was a christmas present to my son from his grandmother. My son and I both use it. It is our creative friend.

The image is of a human shadow that is “one” with a tree nymph of a cypress tree in a garden. Two shadows merge together as one. It you study the image you will notice aspects of the tree shadow blending with the human shadow. A hand and thumb extend out from the cypress. The human is slightly bent to right with a hidden shadowy tree nymph. There is magic in this garden.

Look to the background: look towards the shadowy places in your garden.. and you will find the nature spirits there.