05 August 2007
Russian voyage
10/08/07 13:46
Just
arrived back
midnight in Moscow, lunch time in LA
worked 9 'til 11 at night, most nights
standing on my feet for many hours
drinking ah so much tea, little else, eating at midnight
being
patient, attentive, present, every word translated, retranslated, queried and re-framed
surrounded by students gulping ideas, concepts, protocol as much as they can ingest
hungry for knowledge, not food
observing the many types of humanity
Tartar, Uzbek, Caucasian, Russian, Georgian
unpronounceable names, places, yet common language, states, illnesses
a chance to see the beauty of a language common to all
as mudras belied the gulf of spoken language
as they eloquently spoke with gestures their personal story.
Once upon a time
one spoke
with large end plates of the long bones, ungainly gait, disorganized step
something entered
at conception
an ice maiden
and as this inappropriate identity grew
around a wall of bone
of the selfish giant
– he elegantly crafted Oscar Wilde's
archetypal story of selfishness and a cold heart:
a giant who hibernates in a walled garden where
laughter and play no longer are heard
as children are kept out of the garden
until years gone by
with ne'er a spring lark or robin heard,
snowbell or tulip blossom
where the ice maiden's hoary breath keeps eternal
the deadness of winter
and as winter bites into the fabric of the wall
a hole appears
allowing children yet again to enter
as spring comes, the ice maiden retreats, and
the giant comes out, glad for company
plays with the children
especially one
who .. small, slight, and unable to climb a tree
is helped by the giant
whose melting heart is gladdened, softened and opened
by this child
and as years go by
the giant no longer afraid of the ice maiden, for winter is always followed by spring
lived old
and one day
nearing his death
he hears yet again the spring chorus, yet in winter
and as he looks and marvels at a blossoming tree
he sees the young child high in the branches.
He slowly comes down to the garden
and gently took the boy-child from the branches.
The child, full of light and love looks up:
"you once allowed me into your garden
and today you enter into my garden"
said the child
as the giant kissed the face of Christ.
The giant was found lying at the foot of the tree, dead.
So profound and quintessential in our own development, these stories of archetypal myths,
that they show up as an actuality in our own beings
as the coldness of an embrace
enters into the conception
walling off the spiritual axis
of love
and dynamically altering the code of the child-man to endure the similum [ homeopathic model - like to like] of the giant
- oversized growth end plates - as he labors through life to open the feelings [the garden]
walled in with tubercular certainty [miasmic constitution], to look for love [the child]
to bring this into his heart.
In this way the rhythms, uncertainties and vagaries of life [the seasons] can be
weathered and assimilated, for all is always well when Love rests within you.
So this person carried within them a force which had precipitated this unorthodox bone
growth, creating the characteristic facies and skeletal deformity that mirrored a 'giant'
because the ice maiden - a cold heart - had entered.
Phew - we have little understanding of the subtly and power of the forces.
And so, I flew back, thankful for all those who fed us
at the end of the day
talked and made fun, our long days
learnt and asked questions
observed and chipped in their observations and guesses as to the mudra to use;
I left heartened that we have strong cadre of people who are really bringing the work alive in Russia.
midnight in Moscow, lunch time in LA
worked 9 'til 11 at night, most nights
standing on my feet for many hours
drinking ah so much tea, little else, eating at midnight
being
patient, attentive, present, every word translated, retranslated, queried and re-framed
surrounded by students gulping ideas, concepts, protocol as much as they can ingest
hungry for knowledge, not food
observing the many types of humanity
Tartar, Uzbek, Caucasian, Russian, Georgian
unpronounceable names, places, yet common language, states, illnesses
a chance to see the beauty of a language common to all
as mudras belied the gulf of spoken language
as they eloquently spoke with gestures their personal story.
Once upon a time
one spoke
with large end plates of the long bones, ungainly gait, disorganized step
something entered
at conception
an ice maiden
and as this inappropriate identity grew
around a wall of bone
of the selfish giant
– he elegantly crafted Oscar Wilde's
archetypal story of selfishness and a cold heart:
a giant who hibernates in a walled garden where
laughter and play no longer are heard
as children are kept out of the garden
until years gone by
with ne'er a spring lark or robin heard,
snowbell or tulip blossom
where the ice maiden's hoary breath keeps eternal
the deadness of winter
and as winter bites into the fabric of the wall
a hole appears
allowing children yet again to enter
as spring comes, the ice maiden retreats, and
the giant comes out, glad for company
plays with the children
especially one
who .. small, slight, and unable to climb a tree
is helped by the giant
whose melting heart is gladdened, softened and opened
by this child
and as years go by
the giant no longer afraid of the ice maiden, for winter is always followed by spring
lived old
and one day
nearing his death
he hears yet again the spring chorus, yet in winter
and as he looks and marvels at a blossoming tree
he sees the young child high in the branches.
He slowly comes down to the garden
and gently took the boy-child from the branches.
The child, full of light and love looks up:
"you once allowed me into your garden
and today you enter into my garden"
said the child
as the giant kissed the face of Christ.
The giant was found lying at the foot of the tree, dead.
So profound and quintessential in our own development, these stories of archetypal myths,
that they show up as an actuality in our own beings
as the coldness of an embrace
enters into the conception
walling off the spiritual axis
of love
and dynamically altering the code of the child-man to endure the similum [ homeopathic model - like to like] of the giant
- oversized growth end plates - as he labors through life to open the feelings [the garden]
walled in with tubercular certainty [miasmic constitution], to look for love [the child]
to bring this into his heart.
In this way the rhythms, uncertainties and vagaries of life [the seasons] can be
weathered and assimilated, for all is always well when Love rests within you.
So this person carried within them a force which had precipitated this unorthodox bone
growth, creating the characteristic facies and skeletal deformity that mirrored a 'giant'
because the ice maiden - a cold heart - had entered.
Phew - we have little understanding of the subtly and power of the forces.
And so, I flew back, thankful for all those who fed us
at the end of the day
talked and made fun, our long days
learnt and asked questions
observed and chipped in their observations and guesses as to the mudra to use;
I left heartened that we have strong cadre of people who are really bringing the work alive in Russia.
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