Enso
Mixed Media
Bury? Lay rest? Plant?
Underground… Your Imagination
Let Your Imagination Rest… Let it Root as far as it can go.
Come back for it… when you have travelled with what you carry now.
What will carry you throughout the season?
Can you let the mysteries surrounding you, remain a mystery? Do not answer for your losses – take your depth and put it deeper.
Anchor…
Ground-work… Burial… Put your Imagination to rest where the Myth Lives…
I am struggling to find the right prose for this purpose. A finality to the ‘Halcyon’ days – a new understanding from an elemental formation of time. I have been given free reign over my understanding of how this word desires to live within my Being… I have been given a chance to see my life lived through its agedness…
Halcyon: A definition from Oxford – “denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.”
Yet, as well – “a mythical bird said by ancient writers to breed in a nest floating at sea at the winter solstice, charming the wind and waves into calm.” Which, of course, I connect to deeper.
I love the recognition of these juxtapositions in time. One test being the past, and One test being the mythic present. One creating the “idyllic” time, and One creating the “charming” time. I would go forward to say the ‘courting’ time. Yet both give equally to the nesting of ease – to bring the “waves and winds” of time into a presence of calm.
I am living a time, right here and now, where life is being thrown at me, through me, again to full force of my responsibilities and forcing my energy out. I lose myself to the imagery of gales; rampant, uncontrolled waves – banishing the land to the sea. My life is a storm – even among the stillness – and all I can do is continually learn to traverse my own leavening to the direction it pulls.
And Pray for the Animals of my Contentment to Life.
I sit to write – and I am distracted by my attempt to connect to what I deem valuable.
I look outside from my families dining room table (where I do all my writing), central – literally the center – of the house. One could call it the hearth – where all should be comfortable, warm, and welcoming.
I always tend to look outside for levels of comfort – to ease my levels of disconcerting with my life. Situations of stress, pain, and mitigation from my chronic illness.
(Seems this writing must start with an extricating journal session, helps to reduce the mental and physical blocks to find that taproot in the dark of my wanderings –
I know I am the garden of my being
the ebbing transgressions where I overlook the rotten
digging up soil early, checking for the disease)
Outside – I give recognition to the ever shifting. I’ve peeked into the sky and the clouds so often from this window-box. One tree – across the street – the foreground to the sky above – the ever-present, ever-shifting reality I can only reflect on.
If I wanted my imagination to rest – How deep do I have to go in order to let it roost outside my body?
I can tell this is dangerous. To use the word ‘repulsive’ – it gives a feeling of ‘vomit’ from a source deeper than I can even begin to experience. There is a feeling that – if I start this purging– there will be no end. No End to how deep I have to go to find the emptying of myself. Where there is nothing else to give, nothing else to gift, no more to extricate from my body – until I am the shivering, bone-stricken, depleted form of myself. All that purging – only to find safety in emptiness – to fill up again with a new imagination of what “I Desire”.
A dangerous game of supplementing myself with what “I Desire” over the ‘Fate and Destiny’ of my Birth-right.
It is time to drop the reigns, let wander the powers that be living from me…
I am along for the ride –
ease-less
form-less
idea-less
to be the empty, to be the vessel,
to become my own nest.
And if I become the nest, I can become the bird, and I can become the courting song. Yet with that, I must become the gales – become the waves – become the turmoil itself that I am yearning to court into ease.
So that this present Halcyon Moment can become the remembered Halcyon Moment.
I would like to take my imagination – and let it rest. I know it has worked so hard this last year. As I continue to force and flex it like some overused muscle – it needs time to recover.
The question is – shall I bury it in the cold Earth? Dirty my hands, lick the peat from my fingertips as I try to leave behind the long-lost year. Let rot the decrepit and unneeded, let root the sturdy and everlasting.
Or shall I leave the imagination to roost and prepare for flight? Let live it by the warmth of the nesting bird. An -out-of-season- cultivation. Giving familiar animism to an unfamiliar time.
As I learn to understand my own misunderstanding, my own confusions in the wanderings of living – being lost is Divinity given. Being forgetful is Divinity given.
It is a way to the re-experience of Awe.
This Winter season – I do not want to know anymore.
(I will continue to learn, read, and experience the living of my form and mind and ways of living – yet reinforced with the fact that “I Desire to let it all go”)
I Desire to let the formation of my Being – go where it needs to go – unforced. Within myself – Outside myself.
That the Halcyon itself – within myself – can rest where it needs to rest (without my saying so).
(I think this is my life pattern – or at least the grandest factor here and now – “How to Not-Be”)
I want to breathe within the caves of my body – mildew and agedness unknown to me – as I am permeated by the true essence of my being – permeated by the ‘One True Surrounding’ that is Me.
That simplicity that follows “I just Am”
Halcyon – as a Radical Acceptance of what ‘Courts Your Being into Being’.
Whether that be way you greet the morning Sun – to what you read – to how to speak – to how you walk. These rituals that Court your ‘momentary awareness’ where ‘You are You’ and how to create – that Being – expressed into the world around You.
Halcyon – The Courting Days of Living ‘What You Are’
Not What You Desire to Be(come)
To Let Rest - on the Waves of Your Essence – the Song formed within the Year
Blessed Be
Oh Restful One