"Rio Abajo Rio"

"Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. "

Norman MacLean, "A River Runs Through It"

The quote above has always been so beautiful to me that I wanted to meditate on it for a moment, take a look into the depths of these waters. Perhaps he speaks of what storyteller Clarissa Pinkola Estes * called "Rio Abajo Rio, the river beneath the river of the world". Perhaps "El Rio" is also what Jung called the Collective Unconscious, I don't know. But Estes' speaks of the great River of Story, the universal waters flowing beneath the surfaces of all things.

In her wonderful book Women Who Run With the Wolves *** she writes,

"Each woman has potential access to Rio Abajo Rio, this river beneath the river. She arrives there through deep meditation, dance, writing, painting, prayer making, singing, drumming, active imagination, or any activity which requires an intense altered consciousness. A woman arrives in this world-between worlds through yearning and by seeking something she can see just out of the corner of her eye. She arrives there by deeply creative acts, through intentional solitude, and by practice of any of the arts. And even with these well-crafted practices, much of what occurs in this ineffable world remains forever mysterious to us, for it breaks physical laws and rational laws as we know them."*

Having just finished my workshop sponsored by the Southern Arizona Friends of Jung, I'm always amazed at what happens when people enter the magic circle, the liminal zone outside of the mundane world, where it is possible to speak to the Goddesses and Gods, where the masks can tell their hidden stories. Whether tapping, if only briefly, the wellsprings of El Rio in grief, creativity, meditation, or through the sudden psychic upwelling that can happen when the so-called ego cracks and splinters, it is always a blessing when the waters are revealed, for they remind us of the greater life.

If the river of story has a voice, it's a voice that contains all voices, human and planetary, and the song it sings may be Om, may be "Nameste", I am Thou. Thus, Estes, who is a Jungian psychologist, believes that to simply experience this great river of being is not enough; one must also instinctively participate in some way, find some way to open a pathway, a well spring, for others.

"...[W]hat Jung called 'the moral obligation' to live out and to express what one has learned in the descent or ascent to the wild Self. This moral obligation he speaks of means to live what we perceive, be it found in the psychic Elysian fields, the isles of the dead, the bone deserts of the psyche, the face of the mountain, the rock of the sea, the lush underworld - anyplace where La Que Sabe breathes upon us, changing us. Our work is to show we have been breathed upon - to show it, give it out, sing it out, to live out in the topside world what we have received through our sudden knowings, from body, from dreams and journeys of all sorts."

I respectfully submit that this is so for any creative person, this is the work of the SEER, residing within each of us. The River beneath the River of the World.

* (p.30, below)

** (p.96, below)

*** Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype, Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Hardcover, 560 pages, Random House Publishing Group, 1992

**** I find I've been pulling out these drawings that I did  in the 70's.  Maybe, my desire to renew this acquaintance with my younger self is also an effort to see the River that runs through it.........sometimes, in looking at old work, one can be amazed to see the same storyline...........

Felicia Miller 1952 -2010

For three weeks

the cool moon
bound by occult cords
moves through the houses
of memory and sleep
distills night in a bowl

But on the night of the full moon
what is mirrored
in a still pool?


Felicia Miller (1972)

A friend I reconnected with several years ago, Felicia, a friend I knew more than 30 years before in the Halcyon days of Berkeley, when we were both very fortunate to be young in that creative ferment of place and time, a friend whose poetry travelled with me, like the paintings I did of her so long ago, down and up the road, companions..........passed away a few days ago after a long struggle with cancer.

When I saw Felicia in D.C. this past fall, she was very thin, very tired, but still generous with her time and thought. I remember pulling out one of her poems, and reading it to her and her friend. She said she hated it. I felt sad to think that all these years I've cherished work she abandoned, disavowed, long ago. Still, I think it was important that I read the poem, remind her perhaps of that work, that self............I don't know.

Brilliant, mystical Felicia was entirely a creature of water. Our meetings always seemed to occur by oceans, whether at a 1975 Rhododendron Festival near Mendocino, or in 2008 at a cafe near the famous surfers beach in Rincon, Puerto Rico . I remember her best on the streets of Berkeley, with her ubiquitous necklace of sea shells, telling us stories from her treasured, antique book about the Undines , the people who lived beneath the waters of the Danube. I've always secretly felt that Felicia was really a mermaid herself, one who left her element to walk on the land for a while, perhaps, never entirely comfortable away from her true home.

I painted Felicia several times, once as "The High Priestess" in 1975. By a strange and lovely synchronicity, I heard, just a few weeks before her death, from a long ago friend, Richard Meyer, who I also painted as a Tarot archetype at that time - Richard became "The Magician". When I told him about Felicia, he called her also, after 35 years.

El Rio Abajo,

The River Beneath the River of the World.

The River we all hear, some more than others. Felicia, I'll miss you. Swim free and wild, now.
We love you.

The green plants

magically

from water air

the soil

from water earth

air

earth water

air light

earth and sunlight

sunlight

vibrating waves

shimmering

grasses in the sun


Felicia Miller (1970)

Someone was the Sun
calling from across
the little island fields

we turned and took the last
glimpse of the closing lid

"Let's go, shall we?"

I could not answer,
but only followed after
just some one's glance

along the rock path.



Felicia Miller (1971)

Did I see you?
feel your smile
as you
fell?

People cross bridges
cars pass under them
or water
you waited
then jumped

(it must have happened quickly)

but what was it that rose in you

like a slow Phoenix
new wings

outstretched?

Felicia Miller (1971)

"Then in the half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops.

Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters. "

Norman McClean
"A River Runs Through It"

A little Web sight........

Here's one of those interesting things that happen with the internet......a little syncronicity. This photo of an unframed painting was sent to me by someone who told me it had my name on the back, and was given to him by his brother back in the late 1970's. He apparently carried it around, rolled up, for 30 years.

I had no recollection of either him, or his brother, who lived at the time in Santa Monica. But the painting is clearly mine. I have no idea what its travels have been, but it's good to see, as I prepared to teach my "Masks of the Goddess" workshop again, these Goddess "faces" surface, surprising me. I see that I was following the same kinds of threads, long ago, and had forgotten all about it, just as I had forgotten this painting.

Upcoming Workshop and Lecture in Tucson

Valarie James as "Sophia", 2003

ARCHETYPES OF THE DIVINE FEMININE
A Lecture and a Workshop

LECTURE: Fri., Feb. 12, 2010, 7:30pm—9:30pm

$15.00* members / $20.00*

Lecture held at:

Bloom Educational Center
Grace St. Paul’s
Episcopal Church

2331 E. Adams St.

TWO-DAY WORKSHOP:

Sat., Feb.13 & 20, 2010
9:30am—4:30pm

Tucson Mountain address to be given registrants.

Archetypes of the Divine Feminine—Lecture by Lauren Raine

Lauren Raine’s book Masks of the Goddess: Sacred Masks & Dance has helped people explore and choreograph archetypes of the Feminine Divine and the Great Goddess in workshops, theatre, ritual and dance. Her project included creating thirty masks that highlight the importance of the goddess studies to women and to our multi-cultural world. She will share info about the masks, goddesses and the Divine Feminine. There will also be discussion and personal
applications.

"Saraswati" (2006) (India)

The Goddess Within — A Two-Day Workshop

The workshop is a chance to explore “the Goddess within.” We will draw on the power of our mythic imaginations as we explore archetypes of the Divine Feminine through mask making and storytelling. In this workshop you will:

• Sculpt a mask from your face
• Explore personally significant stories of the Goddess
• Learn approaches to working with sacred masks
• Experience the transformative power of working with aspects of the
Divine Feminine, and take home the means to continue your exploration.

Note: There is a $10 fee for supplies. Bring a “Goddess story” of your own—mythic, contemporary, or personal— that matters to you, along with found and natural objects you might want to use in your mask.

For more information see www.rainewalker.com.

*MEMBERS’ COST:

$60.00 early bird registration, $80.00 later. *Membership is $25.
$20 for senior or student.

NON-MEMBERS’ COST: $90

To register or for more information—see www.safoj.org or call 520-327-3485.
Mail pre-registration information (name, address, phone, and email) and check to:

Southern Arizona Friends of Jung • P.O. Box 64267 •Tucson, AZ 85728-4267

Amaterasu, "Great Woman Who Is The Sun" (Japan)

Conference 2010 Presentation

I had a wonderful time at the Conference for Pagan Studies at Claremont College in California this past weekend. So many inspiring presentations! My gratitude to so many of the people I was privileged to meet there, and especially Kahena, who organized the event - I can hardly wait for next years conference.

A friend asked if I would post my Power Point presentation, and I'm most happy to, since I'm proud of the sequence of images that represent my 5 year project dedicated to Spider Woman. So here it is reduced to jpegs.

Orbs?

I felt like pulling out one of my "orb" photos, sent by a friend who used the mask of White Tara in a performance a few years ago.

Many people believe that these round objects, which have begun appearing since the invention of digital photography, are of spirits or elemental intelligences. In all fairness, there are many who also believe they are specks of dust. Having encountered some pretty dramatic "spirit photos" of my own from a 2004 performance, I keep an open mind. Personally, I think that whatever they are, they seem to be attracted to positive energy and receptive hearts.

Here's a link to a Orb Movie - takes a while to download - by a dedicated collector. I also saw a movie at Lilydale in New York last year, called The Veil is Lifting.




" The Veil is Lifting" (http://psychedelicadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/orbs-veil-is-lifting.html) is the first full-length film that brings together scientists, spiritual teachers, and experts to explore the fascinating Orb phenomenon. The film consists mainly of lots of Orb photos interspersed with interviews with people who have studied them. Among them, Miceal Ledwith, of What the Bleep fame, who has taken over 100,000 Orb photos. It's a lovely film.

This photo was sent to me by a friend who shared a ritual in her home - you can see the orbs around the ritual implements.

Soul Cakes

"A soul, a soul, a soul cake,
please good mistress, a soul cake"

I woke up at 4 am singing this song, and wonder why it just keeps replaying in my head. 4 am is an honest, if dreary hour. So, if dreams and discovering oneself singing weird songs are postcards from the unconscious, I have to ask the morning - what's a "soul cake"? And as I get caffeinated, the answer pops into my mind: soul cakes are real nourishment. Food for the soul that is authentic, food that sustains the spirit, found in nature and often in solitude. Or, in company, from generosity and mirth, from genuine warmth that offers a place at the hearth and a plate at the table.

As I write this, I think of the contemporary word "authenticity", which I've been hearing a lot lately. Authenticity, like "natural", has become a buzz word, and any word that becomes a buzz word in our "brand" conscious, consumer culture bothers me. I'm a natural born contrary, so I feel obliged when encountering buzz words to find alternatives that are not used to sell glitzy workshops or "natural" cosmetics in expensive plastic jars that will take hundreds of years to biodegrade.

But what other word is there to apply? Integrity? Passion? Honesty? Not quite.....what is meant when people talk about "authenticity" is, I think, a truly curious and contemporary concept, something unique to the peculiar time we live in. It means something "real" to be found in the dark forest of cyberspace and Walmart. Something digestible in a chemical feast of processed foods. Something that is not pre-fab, plastic, virtual reality, "reality show". Something that does not keep replicating because an anonymous hand pushed a button somewhere.

The quest for this kind of "authenticity" is something that did not exist in the not-too-distant past.

As I pursue this idea of a kind of essential authenticity, I wonder where "it" can be found within my own human psyche. I cannot say this quality is ultimately found in what I believe. We place great value on belief and faith, and belief and faith provide a backbone with which to stand and take a stand. But from a pragmatic point of view, a belief system is a habitual system of thought that enables one to organize their world, collectively as well as individually. Belief systems are mutable. I don't think "authentic" has to do with ethics either, although living with integrity does. And I know "authenticity" can become entirely lost in the towering abstractions of ideas. I suspect being authentic isn't even about emotions - any one who has ever sat with aching legs doing Vipassana meditation knows that emotions come and go, as impermanent and conditional as the breath.

"The brain isn't just in our heads. The brain is the entire body, which includes the aura, the etheric networks that exist between us and all life. Whether we're talking about a forest or another person, the abstract/cognitive removes us from that experience of communion, the ability to sense what is going on. Abstractions become what is going on. We can objectify at the drop of a hat. We have no problem making an object of anyone or anything. "

Rafael Montanez Ortiz (in a 1989 interview with the author)

Children are authentic, because they respond to their environment directly. A child experiences, without any filters, the love of Mom and Dad, and the waves of familial pain, denial, and suffering as well. Every impression is left in the psyche of a child to form, like an onion, layers of personae. Taking the masks off later, if they no longer serve us as adults, if the maturation process demands it.......... that can be hard to do.

So, perhaps the "authentic" I'm trying to describe here ultimately has to do with instinct. I might define instinct as being in tune with a fundamental survive-able/thrive-able/alive-able force, along with every other living being on our living planet. The will to en-joy, to take in the life force and participate with it. As I write this, I remember stories of what Clarisa Pinkola Estes called "instinct injured women" in her famous book, "Women Who Run With the Wolves." As she pointed out, there are many, many life denying themes of sacrifice, masochism, and surrender of self that are handed out to women, mythologies and belief systems that are destructive to the fundamental will to live.


"Instinct injured" includes men, and the collective psyches of cultures as well. How else could we be evolving a world civilization that is reaching the point of unsustainablity? How else can we evolve philosophies and religions that reject the immanent sanctity of world as "illusion", that seek martyrdom or salvation in some imagined "paradise". How else can we evolve economic systems that are founded upon unrestricted consumption of resources and unrestrained growth? How else can we be, as John Steele wrote in his 1989 book Earthmind (with Paul Devereaux and David Kubrin) , "geomantic amnesiacs"?

I think, in seeking my own "soul cakes", deep nourishment, I seek something many others also seek, something that has to be reclaimed deep within the roots. An instinctual theology, if such an idea is not a paradox.

"Carl Jung, one of the founders of modern psychology and dream analysis, used to say that we all drink from the same source. To explain this concept, he developed a theory whose origin can be found in the work of the ancient alchemists, who named this source the “soul of the world” (Anima Mundi). According to this theory, we always try to be independent individuals, but part of our universal memory is the same."

Paulo Coelho, "Warrior of the Light"