Well, I read the description of the subject matter and thought, oMG, even knowing the depth of the two of you, how will they pull this one off. But you entered the arena and said wonderous things. I don't remember being so sage when I was a child but I remember wondering fiercely when I was a teenager what we were doing here and I've wondered ever since. The only area I would add to becoming whole is awareness of the body and how much of art really comes from the body. When I meditate, it is often so clear to me how thin my thoughts are and how rich my sense of body and innerness is. Can't wait to read again and more in the future.
I really appreciate your lifting up the awareness of the body. I'll let Rosemary speak for herself, but for me estrangement from the body feels connected to being entrapped in language....the mind, the mouth. What about the belly? I'm grateful to have gotten this far (78 years) so that I've had some time to explore my bodily reality. This may be at least one way that this subject comes into fruition as we age.
Peggy, what delicious comments--thank you.Body awareness will be a wonderful topic to delve into for next time. At the time of the childhood experience I wrote of here, I think my body/mind were still unseparated; my response to the paints was from all of me. How that operates now is food for thought. And Susie, I hear you about the potential entrapment of language, but I feel drawn into fullness by your writing, which seems to belie your concerns. But I look forward to hearing more about your actual experience.
I lOVE this conversation. I have always written, and remember, as a child, sometimes going into an altered state when I wrote. Sort of "smoky-eyed' and in love. My primary way of helping myself when I feel I am "in trouble" these days, is to write. I kind of imagine I am talking to God, (whatever God is) and God is helping me hear myself.
You also do know, I imagine, the Jewish myth that in the womb we know everything...the world from one side to another. And just before we are born, the angels tap us on our philtrum to make us forget. That is why we have the lines on our philtrum, the area between our upper lip and nose.
Jinks, how wonderful that you describe your altered state when writing with the phrase "in love." That really gets at something true and essential; it resonates with me. I find, too, that writing (or art) helps me hear myself, to know what I'm thinking/feeling, and it does feel like a form of prayer where something or someone speaks back. Thanks for commenting and I'm so glad you enjoyed the conversation.
My Jungian analyst talks about "it all" being about listening. He says the unconscious is as real as the wood you might knock on. I think that the Divine (whatever that is) hangs out in the unconscious as well as everywhere else. It is such a wondrous, blessed process, isn't it? Is there any way to see your visual art?
Dancing has always been my way of being alive and without thought. I still dance to music on the radio and CD's that i play. I also love to feel embodied without the movement and without thought. For me that is the result of Lock Kelly's meditation study.
Frances, thanks for your comment. I love that dance leaves you feeling alive and without thought. I am not familiar with Lock Kelly either, and will look him (?) up.
Thank you both for this. So many echoes resound in me. I remember at six knowing that there was an 'other' world, feeling that life was a kind of dream. My simple (though very serious) experiment of pinching myself in order to wake up didn't work, but I just knew that I would find another way some day. Then I skipped back into childhood trusting that my questions would return some day. Which of course they did!
Thank you, Signe. I'd love to know more about your experience of "childhood trusting." Do you think that's a common experience or do you think that requires an enlightened upbringing?
I think many children have feelings, memories(?), intuitions in early childhood, but then we have to come more strongly onto the earth and learn about all that is here. Some will have lingering memories/questions ("trailing clouds of glory") that emerge in adulthood. Of course there is much in our contemporary, materialistic world that would dampen down any inclination toward the spirit. How children are educated, allowed, encouraged has a lot of influence.
Thank you for your comment, Signe. I remember hearing, when I was also about 6, about a boy in a coma, and I wondered if he was dreaming me! That wondering remained, or returned, and now I'm so curious about how life feels like dreaming and my dreams feel like life. After immersing myself in Jungian dreamwork, I feel the two as continuous.
I don't remember ever pinching myself as you did, and I admire your experimental approach! (Did you become a scientist? 😊)
As a child, I experienced wholeness in Nature. Sitting by a stream or walking on a path, losing myself for hours in the "beingness" of Nature, are the closest to wholeness that I can remember. Also, sitting with my pets and stroking their fur took me to that place.
I'm trying to recapture that flow in my art. I can get into the "zone" when I paint, but don't often feel the inspiration flowing through me. I yearn to be able to open myself to the Divine flow and be the vehicle for that flow into the world.
I love your use of the word "beingness," Sue. I want to contemplate that and incorporate it into my understanding. One of my favorite names of God is "holy one of being." Thank you, also for speaking of your yearning to be a vehicle for the Divine flow. It takes a lot of courage to write that.
Thanks for this thoughtful comment, Sue. I very much respond to what you said, and I'm especially struck by how stroking our pets can bring us to wholeness. My cats are all gone, but I absolutely treasure that very thing. Touching them was touching uncomplicatedness, pure being.
I wish you great flow in your artwork. I think "flow" is a deep and nuanced subject, a good topic for Susie and I to return to in a future conversation.
Loved reading this conversation. As a child, I experienced wholeness for sure…as the youngest of 5 kids, I had many people to depend on. I was in an Art class (outside of school) in 3rd or 4th grade and the teacher filled in the background of my flower painting one day as I was “too slow” painting each of the pansy petals. I was SO miffed and my mom called and complained on my behalf. Yay Mom.! When I was littler than that, maybe not long after learning the basics of writing, I wrote a story I called The Littlest Star, it was a classic tale about someone thinking they were not enough and learning in the end that they were okay after all. It was written on yellow typewriter paper with a magic marker I think, and I remember writing it sitting on the steps that went up to our attic, a place of mystery, wonder, heat, and old clothes. Too many times in my life I have felt like I was not enough, I should have kept that book closer! Tis gone now, but I find myself thinking about it and feeling a bit comforted by that child, now, in my semi-retirement, as I write a book about what I’ve learned directly from those who live with dementia.
Beautiful stories, Marysue. I love that they (and your spirited inner child) still comfort and support you Do you ever sit on your steps now when you're working on your book? "Heat and old clothes," so resonant!
Well, I read the description of the subject matter and thought, oMG, even knowing the depth of the two of you, how will they pull this one off. But you entered the arena and said wonderous things. I don't remember being so sage when I was a child but I remember wondering fiercely when I was a teenager what we were doing here and I've wondered ever since. The only area I would add to becoming whole is awareness of the body and how much of art really comes from the body. When I meditate, it is often so clear to me how thin my thoughts are and how rich my sense of body and innerness is. Can't wait to read again and more in the future.
I really appreciate your lifting up the awareness of the body. I'll let Rosemary speak for herself, but for me estrangement from the body feels connected to being entrapped in language....the mind, the mouth. What about the belly? I'm grateful to have gotten this far (78 years) so that I've had some time to explore my bodily reality. This may be at least one way that this subject comes into fruition as we age.
Peggy, what delicious comments--thank you.Body awareness will be a wonderful topic to delve into for next time. At the time of the childhood experience I wrote of here, I think my body/mind were still unseparated; my response to the paints was from all of me. How that operates now is food for thought. And Susie, I hear you about the potential entrapment of language, but I feel drawn into fullness by your writing, which seems to belie your concerns. But I look forward to hearing more about your actual experience.
I lOVE this conversation. I have always written, and remember, as a child, sometimes going into an altered state when I wrote. Sort of "smoky-eyed' and in love. My primary way of helping myself when I feel I am "in trouble" these days, is to write. I kind of imagine I am talking to God, (whatever God is) and God is helping me hear myself.
You also do know, I imagine, the Jewish myth that in the womb we know everything...the world from one side to another. And just before we are born, the angels tap us on our philtrum to make us forget. That is why we have the lines on our philtrum, the area between our upper lip and nose.
So glad you're part of this conversation.
Thanks for teaching me a new word! Always a treat. I do know the Talmudic tale and have always held it dear.
Jinks, how wonderful that you describe your altered state when writing with the phrase "in love." That really gets at something true and essential; it resonates with me. I find, too, that writing (or art) helps me hear myself, to know what I'm thinking/feeling, and it does feel like a form of prayer where something or someone speaks back. Thanks for commenting and I'm so glad you enjoyed the conversation.
My Jungian analyst talks about "it all" being about listening. He says the unconscious is as real as the wood you might knock on. I think that the Divine (whatever that is) hangs out in the unconscious as well as everywhere else. It is such a wondrous, blessed process, isn't it? Is there any way to see your visual art?
Jinks, you are in Jungian analysis? Me too. (My current work in life is to trust the realness of the Unconscious! Wondrous and blessed indeed.)
Thanks for your interest in seeing my art. I have a website here: www.rosemarystarace.com
I sent an Email to your Email address, Rosemary.
Dancing has always been my way of being alive and without thought. I still dance to music on the radio and CD's that i play. I also love to feel embodied without the movement and without thought. For me that is the result of Lock Kelly's meditation study.
I"m curious what you mean by "embodied without the movement?" Don't know Lock Kelly and would love to be enlightened. Thank you!
Frances, thanks for your comment. I love that dance leaves you feeling alive and without thought. I am not familiar with Lock Kelly either, and will look him (?) up.
Thank you both for this. So many echoes resound in me. I remember at six knowing that there was an 'other' world, feeling that life was a kind of dream. My simple (though very serious) experiment of pinching myself in order to wake up didn't work, but I just knew that I would find another way some day. Then I skipped back into childhood trusting that my questions would return some day. Which of course they did!
Thank you, Signe. I'd love to know more about your experience of "childhood trusting." Do you think that's a common experience or do you think that requires an enlightened upbringing?
I think many children have feelings, memories(?), intuitions in early childhood, but then we have to come more strongly onto the earth and learn about all that is here. Some will have lingering memories/questions ("trailing clouds of glory") that emerge in adulthood. Of course there is much in our contemporary, materialistic world that would dampen down any inclination toward the spirit. How children are educated, allowed, encouraged has a lot of influence.
Calling these experiences memories means a lot to me. It underscores my belief that we come out of the Wholeness and return in time to the Wholeness.
Thank you for your comment, Signe. I remember hearing, when I was also about 6, about a boy in a coma, and I wondered if he was dreaming me! That wondering remained, or returned, and now I'm so curious about how life feels like dreaming and my dreams feel like life. After immersing myself in Jungian dreamwork, I feel the two as continuous.
I don't remember ever pinching myself as you did, and I admire your experimental approach! (Did you become a scientist? 😊)
My father was a scientist, and I guess you could say I became a spiritual scientist!There is so much to explore...
A spiritual scientist! I love that.
As a child, I experienced wholeness in Nature. Sitting by a stream or walking on a path, losing myself for hours in the "beingness" of Nature, are the closest to wholeness that I can remember. Also, sitting with my pets and stroking their fur took me to that place.
I'm trying to recapture that flow in my art. I can get into the "zone" when I paint, but don't often feel the inspiration flowing through me. I yearn to be able to open myself to the Divine flow and be the vehicle for that flow into the world.
I love your use of the word "beingness," Sue. I want to contemplate that and incorporate it into my understanding. One of my favorite names of God is "holy one of being." Thank you, also for speaking of your yearning to be a vehicle for the Divine flow. It takes a lot of courage to write that.
Thanks for this thoughtful comment, Sue. I very much respond to what you said, and I'm especially struck by how stroking our pets can bring us to wholeness. My cats are all gone, but I absolutely treasure that very thing. Touching them was touching uncomplicatedness, pure being.
I wish you great flow in your artwork. I think "flow" is a deep and nuanced subject, a good topic for Susie and I to return to in a future conversation.
Loved reading this conversation. As a child, I experienced wholeness for sure…as the youngest of 5 kids, I had many people to depend on. I was in an Art class (outside of school) in 3rd or 4th grade and the teacher filled in the background of my flower painting one day as I was “too slow” painting each of the pansy petals. I was SO miffed and my mom called and complained on my behalf. Yay Mom.! When I was littler than that, maybe not long after learning the basics of writing, I wrote a story I called The Littlest Star, it was a classic tale about someone thinking they were not enough and learning in the end that they were okay after all. It was written on yellow typewriter paper with a magic marker I think, and I remember writing it sitting on the steps that went up to our attic, a place of mystery, wonder, heat, and old clothes. Too many times in my life I have felt like I was not enough, I should have kept that book closer! Tis gone now, but I find myself thinking about it and feeling a bit comforted by that child, now, in my semi-retirement, as I write a book about what I’ve learned directly from those who live with dementia.
I was outraged to hear that your teacher filled in the background of your flower painting. So glad you fought back and transcended.
Beautiful stories, Marysue. I love that they (and your spirited inner child) still comfort and support you Do you ever sit on your steps now when you're working on your book? "Heat and old clothes," so resonant!
Ha! No haven’t sat on the steps yet, but will keep it in mind!