“ Love is extravagant, in the price, it is willing to pay, the hardship it is willing to endure, and the strength it is willing to spend. Love never thinks in terms of “how little”, but always in terms of “how much”. Love gives, love knows, and love last…”
-Unknown Continue reading Sir Gawain and The Perilous Bed
Gahmuret and the Lady Herzeloyde are the parents of Parzival, who will one day find the Grail and ask the ‘noble question’ of the Fisher King. Upon the death of Gahmuret in battle, Herzeloyde abandons her kingdom, taking her son to a deep wood and raises him under nature’s cathedral in hopes that Parzival will never know the word ‘Knight’ or hears of this exclusive group out of fear that he’ll suffer the same fate as his father. But strange things happen in the dark woods especially when we find out that Merlin is lurking about. Continue reading Sir Gahmuret and the Lady Herzeloyde
“The right-hand path is living in the context of the mask of one’s village. The left-hand way is of the individual quest. So the mask of the individual’s own life pulls against the mask held up by society”.
“As we drive toward the apex of a six-lane span over the St.Johns river, the wind picks up in gust and the bridge suddenly divides. One turn is a slight turn to the right. The other turn is to the left, a very sharp turn through the yellow cables, as yellow as the morning sun.
Such is life, two sides of an interchangeable cultural coin as symbols and meaning constantly trade places. What’s in vogue today is out tomorrow as each turns to the other for its’ title. This is a dance and society is leading the orchestra to a beat that holds everyone under its pulsating rhythm of fear. So the music doesn’t change as though someone requests the same song in repetitious frustration because he can’t hear the real song in his soul.
When the flip of a coin is realized and understood one is left somewhere off to the side of the road, disheveled and seeking. The empyrean of pure fire and light at the farthest boundaries of the heavenly sphere await your question; for the gods reveal themselves only when summoned, waiting for you to turn the key and open the inner door to a mythic adventure where demons, dragons, and fairies encountered in the regions of the soul. This is the path beyond the border of societies misinterpretations, the inner life or mythically speaking “the left-hand way.
Our newfound wisdom comes from the inner vision the mystics speak of. It is a lonely path in so far as the mask one longs for from the past. But loneliness soon turns to solitude in this darkness of the soul’s flight and in our emptying out we become filled with the spirit. This is Perceval quest and was only satisfied when he went against the social sanction of not asking questions, as expected of a Knight of the Roundtable and asks the Fisher King a left-handed question, “what ails you, my king”.
Society is a disguise for something deeper that can’t be held overtly for all to see. For many are indifferent and without the subsistence to keep from falling asunder. The older man has discerning eyes and by the light of a full moon whose light is derived from the sun ask the hard questions from which descends the wisdom to see life’s exceptions, discarding all that we cleave to that subsequently blinds us to who we really are. Heaven and earth, left hand in right hand will reveal their bounty as society opens to serve the individual quest. The goal must be a noble undertaking, a pursuit exalted before the heavens to begin at the point where it arcs across the earth. Many cultural layers, many situations, many lessons uncovered and either embrace or abandoned as we ascertain the left side of the self.
Photo source: Pixabay
We enter here, we enter there
The road ahead, it never cares
There’s a turn for you, a turn for me
A turn for all who care to see. Continue reading Enlighten Rogues
A friend of mine called one day and stated in a matter of fact tone, “you have to read this book; it will change your life”. The book was ‘The Power of Myth, by someone named Joseph Campbell. I was just divorced and trying to find my way in a strange new world after 13 years of marriage, a world in which I felt as one of the lost boys in Peter Pan. I was ready for something of substance but had doubts as to my friends implied assertion that this one book would open a new world of meaning to me. I was familiar with the works of Thomas Moore and M. Scott Peak so I wasn’t completely unacquainted with the idea of mythology as a psychological tool. But little did I know I was about to submerge into uncharted waters, pushing me intrinsically through the door into the abyss. Continue reading Hey Joe
“If you get the inside right, the outside will fall into place.”
When I wrote ‘Private Tremors of the Frozen Man’, I introduced a litany of symptoms prevalent to Parkinson’s disease that most people didn’t know or realized were just as prominent as a tremor in the hand. As time goes on, I discover new symptoms, some I experience and other I may or may not ever play host to. All in all, it’s an education for me and a vicarious one for you, the reader. As I’ve often said, when I was diagnosed back in October of 2012, I didn’t know anything about Parkinson’s except for the handshakes. Now I can see someone on the street and pretty much can tell if they have Parkinson’s or not. Continue reading The Frozen Man- Go to the Mirror
There is something about the grace and serenity of water; it seems lazy and peaceful in one moment and then in the next, it shows great strength and power. Water is perseverance, patient, and adaptable; just think of the Colorado River creating the Grand Canyon. And most important of all, water is fluid… ever changing as the universe. Look up ‘fluid’ in any thesaurus and this is Continue reading Silent Fluidity
To be happy is to know where we should be on the path even with pain, in effect living from the still-point of our eternal flame. This is where we grow, step-by-step closer to the Grail… JC
At times the refusal of the journey is the most important part of the path, a turning point that can never be rescinded. The Continue reading The Road To Anjou
“…but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing.”
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Trains, the hypnotic sound of steel upon steel, a lonesome whistle crying through the night. All who take this journey have a story to tell. It’s the road taken, an enigma, even after all these years… I’ve stopped trying to understand it’s wanting Continue reading Reflextions On A Train In The Night
This post is part of a series of guest post authored by myself and other bloggers, published to my friend Monica’s blog site,‘look around!’Do yourself a favor and check out her blog at: https://lookaround99.wordpress.com and my post On The Shoulders of Giants at:https://lookaround99.wordpress.com/2016/08/29/on-the-shoulders-of-giants/-look around!.
In time I also heard a singular voice whisper to me as though it were an echo of words spoken long ago that keeps going and will forever sound through the epochs of time as long as love and compassion inhabit this Earth… “There are many ways to touch and kiss the sky!” -JC
Continue reading On The Shoulders of Giants… look around!