human nature

what makes me sad:

that i cannot fly.

we have to walk

slowly, step for step

and ageing makes

the weight too much.

gravity grips me

at my throat.

so we must learn

to go slow

and see more

and learn the way

to leave,

to be awake

with heart and mind,

bleeding but free

enjoying each step

in the moment

as there may not

be another one.

still it makes me sad

that i cannot fly

and must move

alone.

a horse

is better company,

it does not talk

nor will it think.

a human

is a fickle being,

unsafe and dangerous,

it stumbles too often

and puts its feet

across our way

not on purpose

but by clumsiness.

this is my nature,

human failure,

ungracious

and knowing death

this is all i know, the story unfolding

and when he had served the queen for seven years, she had taught him the magic to die and to be reborn. he grew very strong. she refused him, and her refusal ignited his spirit. 

he said good bye. to be polite and grateful he spoke to her: you taught me how to die, i cannot serve you : as a dead person i am of no use. and thus leaving he knew he could fly.

he did and died again, touching the ground. then he stood up and walked into a strange and unknown place, he lived from wild honey and herbs, drank from

rivers and springs, slept under talking trees, kissed by wind and stars . after forty days he climbed a mountain above the sea where he settled down to sleep. 

this is all i know.

the messenger of god, Indalo

     

   incarnated, the messenger.

   in truth i feel that nothing is not

   perverted in life and through   

   experience,

   nothing is pure but inside, not only

   in and with me but in and with all

   humanity.

More: Joseph Campbell, The Hero with the Thousand Faces

well, i did him a bit of injustice.

after all he started off with the Princess and the Frog, and now he does an elaboration on Psyche and Cupid.

so he didn't forget women so much.

reading i make of course parallels to my own life and other humans' i know.

i am not so sure of how good i am of a 'hero'.

after all, self destruction is not the aim,

just happens on the way, stages of a journey which will end with death, the annihilation of all ego.

Santa Apólonia

my friend went to go shopping for the journey. a train had just arrived. suddenly my eyes caught this beautiful old lady, maybe more than 80 years old, towing behind her a trolley suitcase, a bent back but a swinging gait and eagerly alive eyes, so bright . walking she smoked a cigarette with absolute delight and such great enjoyment: i wish i could one day be like that. she made life and age look better.

Sunday, Lisboa

Saturday

Friday

Pink Floyd, Goodbye Blue Sky [Video]

Pink Floyd , Coming Back To Life

Saint Germain ,So Flute - HD

on: Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces

By now i thoroughly read about the first 50 pages. Before I was just browsing.

In advance-to make my following points not so heavy- it is for sure
an enlightening and rich text on the nature and gift of myths.

What i don't like at all is his emphasis on psychoanalysis and his overenthusiastic
concept on the doctor to be a true healer and shaman in this process
which i am tempted to call "treatment".
I am a doctor, in this present time and culture, and i know we are not healers,
neither of humans nor of society. Nor are Psychoanalysts, no, not healers.

Then i see so far (!) that the only the heroes in this book are  male.
Not so intelligent as myth is also valid for women.
After all, it is about a deep spiritual and soul process,
and women don't experience this?

Then there are for sure facts given which are just wrong.
Humans being the mammals with the longest breastfeeding period is not true.
I know Orangutans  do it for seven years!

Otherwise: i am fascinated. Only, it takes careful reading.

More to follow.

Van Morrison , Hymns to the Silence - original

Van Morrison , Wild Honey

Bach's Neverending Canon

The Shanghai Restoration Project (with Amos Winbush) - Voices

today...