I love the last two quotes that you shared. “Poverty as the practice of inner emptiness and the procession of everything at once.” They truly go together, don’t they. The mandorla as the gateway, the overlap of emptiness and everything. How many times do I hold on to things, life, ideas, etc.! Yet, when I let go, I enter into a greater connection and beauty that only becomes possible without the clinging.
As aforementioned : (and pardon my own expulsions of self) I live in a world of pain - coming and going as consistently as the sun rises. Dependently, Primordial - always in it's Honesty. As much a burden as it is Blessing. Throes and through's a connection to reality. As much as it is my story - and as much as I wish to cast this life unto others - I cannot push this burden into the Body of others.
It goes to say then - that shared Breathe... often shallow - yet can be filled with "reverie". As each one can ease us into and through to become a 'byproduct' of the pain.
As you eased through that into the emotive pain-work... Bless You. As often as it is easy to ignore the simplicity that is the body. Moments by moments - by moments breathe -
How much more 'Becoming' can there be - by Being within this 'Body Hostage'?
What else is there to lose in the 'place of poverty'?
How much longer can we Behold this 'Shared Embodiment'?
What a beautiful, wrenching, tender reflection from you, knowing as you do through the lived/living body a world of pain as expectant as the rising and setting of the sun. Thank you for this. Nothing I offer here would add to your reflection.
Renée your reflections are so profound, so deeply resonant in my own body and experiences of pain. Shedding, always shedding us until we empty into our evrythingness.
I recognize this experience as I have also been so sick that all I could do was lay there and focus on my breath. This went on for so many hours that I was transported to that sacred, quantum world between my physical body and the atoms that compose it. Sure, I try to go there in my daily life with contemplative practice, but this was different. This was the sense of BEing there fully. I have found this difficult to access in my regular, daily life and am grateful to have had that experience so I my thinking mind, and heart, know deeply how it feels.
I am so glad you are getting well Renee❤
Congratulations on this amazing live event! Sadly I won't be able to make it from Canada (this time!).
Donna, thank you for sharing. I labored over whether to offer this reflection, hoping that it would land in just the way you have shared here: "Sure, I try to go there in my daily life with contemplative practice, but this was different. This was the sense of BEing there fully." And then, you offer being grateful for the experience. This is the gift. Isn't it? So beautiful, and I thank you. I understand completely about traveling all the way across this land. It may be that there is another that happens nearer to your part of the world later. . . .
Once again, you use language that confounds me while simultaneously bringing the focus and clarity of simplicity laid bare. Your writing calls to the fore my desire to offer word-ly insights re: "In the imaginal cells of the collective human psyche, a profound shift seems to be cocooning." And barring that, to learn the patience to choose silence. You've offered a relatively short treatise on an infinitely rich topic. As always, thank you.
Becky, thank *you* for your thoughtful and reflective read. I am drawn to your phrase: a patience to choose silence. It is. We can see in these three themes, silence, solitude, and simplicity (as we are exploring it), a common theme of absence that becomes (perhaps!) a fullness once entered. It's the patience to enter (the silence, solitude, simplicity) that seems to be our task. Many thanks to you.
I love the last two quotes that you shared. “Poverty as the practice of inner emptiness and the procession of everything at once.” They truly go together, don’t they. The mandorla as the gateway, the overlap of emptiness and everything. How many times do I hold on to things, life, ideas, etc.! Yet, when I let go, I enter into a greater connection and beauty that only becomes possible without the clinging.
Hope you are feeling better Renèe.
Julie,
"the overlap of emptiness and everything." Yes! Whereas we might tend to conceptualize a gap, it is an overlap. Thank you for giving language to this.
And thank you for your sweet well-wish. I am feeling fine now. 🙏
Renée,
As aforementioned : (and pardon my own expulsions of self) I live in a world of pain - coming and going as consistently as the sun rises. Dependently, Primordial - always in it's Honesty. As much a burden as it is Blessing. Throes and through's a connection to reality. As much as it is my story - and as much as I wish to cast this life unto others - I cannot push this burden into the Body of others.
(If you want to divulge into some deeper body Ecology/Ecodelic - termed by Sophie Strand : https://substack.com/@sophiestrand )
The Body Hostage
The Tender Poverty
The Shared Embodiment
It goes to say then - that shared Breathe... often shallow - yet can be filled with "reverie". As each one can ease us into and through to become a 'byproduct' of the pain.
As you eased through that into the emotive pain-work... Bless You. As often as it is easy to ignore the simplicity that is the body. Moments by moments - by moments breathe -
How much more 'Becoming' can there be - by Being within this 'Body Hostage'?
What else is there to lose in the 'place of poverty'?
How much longer can we Behold this 'Shared Embodiment'?
Jacob,
What a beautiful, wrenching, tender reflection from you, knowing as you do through the lived/living body a world of pain as expectant as the rising and setting of the sun. Thank you for this. Nothing I offer here would add to your reflection.
Renée your reflections are so profound, so deeply resonant in my own body and experiences of pain. Shedding, always shedding us until we empty into our evrythingness.
Kimberly, thank you for sharing this. You phrase it beautifully: "always shedding us until we empty into our everythingness." Yes.
I see a new "In Defense of" in my inbox and am so looking forward!
I recognize this experience as I have also been so sick that all I could do was lay there and focus on my breath. This went on for so many hours that I was transported to that sacred, quantum world between my physical body and the atoms that compose it. Sure, I try to go there in my daily life with contemplative practice, but this was different. This was the sense of BEing there fully. I have found this difficult to access in my regular, daily life and am grateful to have had that experience so I my thinking mind, and heart, know deeply how it feels.
I am so glad you are getting well Renee❤
Congratulations on this amazing live event! Sadly I won't be able to make it from Canada (this time!).
Donna, thank you for sharing. I labored over whether to offer this reflection, hoping that it would land in just the way you have shared here: "Sure, I try to go there in my daily life with contemplative practice, but this was different. This was the sense of BEing there fully." And then, you offer being grateful for the experience. This is the gift. Isn't it? So beautiful, and I thank you. I understand completely about traveling all the way across this land. It may be that there is another that happens nearer to your part of the world later. . . .
Once again, you use language that confounds me while simultaneously bringing the focus and clarity of simplicity laid bare. Your writing calls to the fore my desire to offer word-ly insights re: "In the imaginal cells of the collective human psyche, a profound shift seems to be cocooning." And barring that, to learn the patience to choose silence. You've offered a relatively short treatise on an infinitely rich topic. As always, thank you.
Becky, thank *you* for your thoughtful and reflective read. I am drawn to your phrase: a patience to choose silence. It is. We can see in these three themes, silence, solitude, and simplicity (as we are exploring it), a common theme of absence that becomes (perhaps!) a fullness once entered. It's the patience to enter (the silence, solitude, simplicity) that seems to be our task. Many thanks to you.