Saturday, November 10, 2007
Stay close, we'll look for a welcome shore
Oh BOY. Spent all day today in myth and fairy tale, with Dr. Lionel Corbett at the helm of our Jung class. He has a wonderfully British sensibility and is terribly funny. I took fifteen pages of notes, and have so much more I feel like I need to find and read! I love this PhD program more than the Master's already, and this is session number two. It's going to be quite a journey, I can tell.
On that note, I will briefly speak about water, an element that keeps coming up in my dreams, and my thoughts of dolphins.
Something in the stars lately must be acting up, because I there has been much too much pain lately. Some has been the pain of transition, and transformation. Remember being a kid and feeling your body growing, your bones aching as your body readjusted to its new shapes and sizes? Growing pains, we call them. So what do we call them later, when it is our soul, our capacity to endure, our capacity to love or forgive, that find themselves stretched?
There have been tragedies amongst my community of friends, and I witness one of the phenomena that makes me feel the most alive, the most grateful.
I call it "dolphining", because to me, it's a noun we can just go ahead and make a verb. When one of the pod is sick or mourning, the rest of the group circles, protects, lifts, and serves to hold and care for. When I witness or participate in this kind of loving, it humbles me, and reminds me of human vitality, and my utter, naked thankfulness for being alive.
If not for this community, this love, we may just drown when life drags us out into the rough water. I am reminded to turn to my friends in my joys and in my disappointments, my tears and my laughter.
And to remember the many qualities of water. And the many qualities of dry land.
Thankful and exhausted,