there was this one time, after Mama died, where I felt I flew off orbit and, after having tried and tried looking within, I finally looked for "guidance" externally, in various places and books and people.
one of these was a Jungian dream psychoanalyst. there are at least 3 kinds of jungian psychoanalysts. 30000? archetypal intuitives with a sense beyond humanity yet obviously including it, Human ones who believe western society is perfect, and so-so ones. plus a billion others.
my lady was very much a product of something very modernly human, understandably, I guess, but irritatingly too.
here's the thing: once I told her I had this Feeling, a strong urge, to go Really North, and lie beside a river covered in broken ice, just looking at a white sky, lying in the white snow.
I hadn't yet thought about meaning, but felt it very peacefully.
She told me it meant Death. In a bad way.
Like some dead Shakespearean maiden image, a girl who's given up. Ophelia, she said. (Who said I was giving up? ?? giving up What??)
But No.
On 10th thought, it occurs to me now, that there is a Purpose for North. (well, it occurred to me before, but this purpose is different).. like the 4 directions, north has a spirit. The spirit of the north is contemplative, doesn't lie, is stark, pure, etc.
just because it's cold doesn't make it dead. things hibernate. life will return, and anyway, it's already present. life is just quieter than usual and hidden. it's beautiful in its minuteness and seeming invisibility. you have to be really really quiet... and are spirits dead? (...no...?)
When a close family member dies at a crucial time in your life, it will change you- I think you have the right to find your own peace and take the time to find it.
Dream lady said basically, "Get on with your life and go get a well-paying job to support yourself. now. join the group."
I even tried. but I would bawl when I saw a person. violin lessons with tons of mamas with their kids. MAYBE I am hypersensitive...
?
No..
and I am glad I took some time to wait.
oh ps I read this beautiful essay called "The spirit of the north" (not the glenn gould one) and it inspired me.
North is beautiful.
I still need it. I love winter.
the rush of the first snow.
one of these was a Jungian dream psychoanalyst. there are at least 3 kinds of jungian psychoanalysts. 30000? archetypal intuitives with a sense beyond humanity yet obviously including it, Human ones who believe western society is perfect, and so-so ones. plus a billion others.
my lady was very much a product of something very modernly human, understandably, I guess, but irritatingly too.
here's the thing: once I told her I had this Feeling, a strong urge, to go Really North, and lie beside a river covered in broken ice, just looking at a white sky, lying in the white snow.
I hadn't yet thought about meaning, but felt it very peacefully.
She told me it meant Death. In a bad way.
Like some dead Shakespearean maiden image, a girl who's given up. Ophelia, she said. (Who said I was giving up? ?? giving up What??)
But No.
On 10th thought, it occurs to me now, that there is a Purpose for North. (well, it occurred to me before, but this purpose is different).. like the 4 directions, north has a spirit. The spirit of the north is contemplative, doesn't lie, is stark, pure, etc.
just because it's cold doesn't make it dead. things hibernate. life will return, and anyway, it's already present. life is just quieter than usual and hidden. it's beautiful in its minuteness and seeming invisibility. you have to be really really quiet... and are spirits dead? (...no...?)
When a close family member dies at a crucial time in your life, it will change you- I think you have the right to find your own peace and take the time to find it.
Dream lady said basically, "Get on with your life and go get a well-paying job to support yourself. now. join the group."
I even tried. but I would bawl when I saw a person. violin lessons with tons of mamas with their kids. MAYBE I am hypersensitive...
?
No..
and I am glad I took some time to wait.
oh ps I read this beautiful essay called "The spirit of the north" (not the glenn gould one) and it inspired me.
North is beautiful.
I still need it. I love winter.
the rush of the first snow.
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