2008. Oh my goodness.

Yes, it HAS been a while since I've written on this little site. Very neglectful of me, I admit. Let's see if we can remedy this...

To catch you up: holidays in Santa Fe, back in San Francisco trying like mad to find the next nest. Hurrying through my papers for school (due tomorrow -it will happen), and eager to get back south to get things all aligned for the next chapter. Strange thing about 'next chapters'; you usually start living them before you officially recognize that you do. So as much as I have been working toward a certain type of future, I think I've embarked on living the life I want already.

So I've got THAT going for me.

In my research and analysis of the Grimms' fairy tale "The Goose-Girl", I stumbled upon these words, from the ever-provocative Marie-Louise von Franz:
If, out of mental laziness, you simply sit back and hope that the spirit of unconscious will maneuver you through all the difficulties of your life, then it will play you tricks. But if you make your utmost effort to face life on your own with great courage, but find that you can't, that you are up against a wall and it's beyond your capacities, then, generally, these helpful gifts emerge from the unconscious. (APinFT)

What the hell is she referring to, you may be asking yourself? Well, von Franz is referring to the magical gifts that assist the characters in fairy tales as they rescue the princess, or spin straw into gold, or kill the dragon. Like a ball that rolls where they are supposed to turn, or a stick that renders them invisible to their foes. So, if I am the princess in my own little fairy tale, what gifts have emerged for me? Because I certainly have had the experience of trying to work something out by myself and maybe making it worse through my own myopic ways.

Movement. The Greeks believed it was the expression of the eternal; the flow of water in dreams often refers to the movement in our lives -of our emotions, our creativity, our instincts. I am deeply aware of psyche's gift of meaningful dreams, acceptance from my beloved friends, new friends who make me smarter, make me glow, keep me accountable, and some who grace me with the gift of their eyes, smiles, and erotic energies (that's the creative eros, you know, not the xxx-theater kind).

So, dear readers. 2008 starts off with a wealth of opportunity, determination, acceptance, gratefulness, and thirst for meaning. Quenchable, lovable thirst. Yet another aspect of desire that, in my estimation, moves us, sustains us.

Desire without attachment. Don't try it the other way around. I promise it's not a great idea.
Love what you love, move a little today with your whole heart toward something that FEELS good, not something that makes sense. My goal for the year is to follow my heart wherever it leads me. Logic has been banished to the backseat. My emotion and desire are back in charge.

I'll keep you posted. Sure to be a wild ride.
Stephie

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,
Steph