“Very often we look God-knows-where for the solution of our problem and do not see that it is right in front of our noses. We are not humble enough to look downward but stick our noses up in the air. That is why Jung often told the beautiful story of a Jewish rabbi who was asked by his pupils why in the Bible there were so many instances of the apparition of God, whereas nowadays such things did not happen, and the rabbi replied, “Because nowadays no one is humble enough to bend down low enough.”
~Marie-Louis von Franz, The Interpretation of Fairy Tales
Woke up this morning feeling so small I couldn’t reach the light switch. Tumbled out of bed into the darkness of my bedroom and tripped over my shoes. I ate up the shoelaces for breakfast and the coffee maker was busted so I got into an argument with my girlfriend who had left me 20 years ago. In my head she sat on my shoulder like a dark crow shadow, cawcawphoning laughter into my ear. I flung a bust of Neitzsche at her with a heaving sigh, but missed and only succeeded in concussing my own poor shallow skull which soon shattered into seven several shards that knelt on the floor, prostrate in a puddle of broken dream. The next time I wake up, I’ll know better, I told myself before turning off the alarm clock and falling off the mattress onto the hard cold floor.
. . . from a really nice minimalist graphic novel by Mette Norrie. Really moved by the way her use of image and color captures the essence of solitude and transformative experience. . . beautiful! (click on the graphic to visit. . . ) Her website is here and has some really nice artwork. . .
So this morning during assembly, one of my fellow teachers says, “I just thought it was hilarious when all those student protests were going on this weekend, my husband, H. was out buying himself a new gun. . . ” and then she cackled with continuous glee like a sad, sick, demented hen.
There is a darkness to these times – a suffocating tightness of the chest – a drifting cloud of foul smoggy gas – a dark toned feeling of loss and despair in the absurdities leaking forth from the media and the minute by minutia of the news.
There is a newness to the light of these times as well, a piercing shine that is not quite a glare in the early morning of just now spring, a gleaming gold reflected from windowpane and tree leaf and grass blade, a glimmering of hope that rings through clear in the songs of the mind and the hot beating of the heart.
And so I choose the latter vision and now refuse to be manipulated and swayed by the darkness of the media tunnel vision delusion. I choose to be aware and active in the here and now. To breath in and know that I am breathing in. To breathe out and know that I am breathing out. To simply smile and be at ease with what is and let the warm light flow, the snow drift, and the river run.