It is a cool and misty autumn day here in the Pacific Northwest. A few minutes ago I hand-delivered my "Vote by Mail" ballot to the County Courthouse, a day ahead of the day on which the American voters will decide who shall be the next President of the United States.
Now I am looking out of my office window at the river and the Oregon cliffs on the opposite side. There is a slight breeze stirring the yellow leaves in the trees. Since we've reverted from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time yesterday, it will be getting dark earlier than usual this evening; but it's already fairly dark now at 4 PM because of the overcast sky.
I am still recovering from the "big wind" last week. I am aware that the physical turbulence of the weather mirrors the turbulence, chaos, and constantly shifting energy that is all around us. That seems to be operating and manifesting on all levels right now ... from the weather to politics to physical health; quite a few people I know are feeling tired, out of sorts, if not ill and taking a while to recover. It applies on both the collective (even global) and individual levels.
The metaphorical image that has been coming up for me lately is mud. Mud is complex and confusing -- it's made up of all sorts of stuff, all mixed together. It is hard to navigate through, slows you down (you can even get stuck in it), and is downright messy. You can't drink water that's muddy or bathe or wash clothes in it. But as any potter or farmer can tell you, mud is also fertile. It's a substance which can be shaped and formed by us in the service of our creativity. It serves as the womb of our creativity.
A randomly-chosen chapter of the Tao Te Ching:
14
The ancient Masters were profound and subtle.
Their wisdom was unfathomable.
There is no way to describe it;
all we can describe is their appearance.
They were careful
as someone crossing an iced-over stream.
Alert as a warrior in enemy territory.
Courteous as a guest.
Fluid as melting ice.
Shapable as a block of wood.
Receptive as a valley.
Clear as a glass of water.
Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?
The Master doesn't seek fulfillment.
Not seeking, not expecting,
she is present, and can welcome all things.
And the words of the medieval British mystic Julian of Norwich:
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
Anyone up for making mudpies?
I'll throw some figurative mud around. The thing is you never know quite what it'll turn into! ;)
Posted by: Nick | Wednesday, November 05, 2008 at 04:41 AM
That's part of what makes it fun. :D
Posted by: Kitty | Wednesday, November 05, 2008 at 04:52 AM