Over the holidays, I've had a chance to catch some of the programming on the History channel. What is up with the latest trend in all their programming? Their theory is that all the wisdom from ancient mystery schools was given to humanity by "extra terrestrials or aliens." I hear this, and think: maybe they mean "multidimensional beings" -- which are not really the same as "aliens." And when they show Viking burial sites that have rocks surrounding the mound in the shape of a "boat," I don't see a "boat." I see the symbol for the Vesica Piscis. The Vesica can be found in in doors and windows in Churches, Mosques, Pagodas, Tabernacle's and Temples world wide. Check it out. They should pepper their programming with experts on Sacred Geometry.
Also,on Brad Meltzer's Decoded, they discussed Da Vinci and made a (brief) reference to a drawing, or invention, of his that is a tetrahedron, and as I watched I thought: "oh, the Merkaba." But they didn't discuss that. I first learned of the Merkaba through Drunvalo Melchizedek (on You Tube). Now, THAT is some interesting programming!
There was a lot of speculation about the Mona Lisa and the water in his painting, and they postulated that the painting was possibly a self-portrait. So, while they were thinking that Da Vinci was a cross-dresser, I'm thinking that yes, he was leading us to his "feminine side," or what we commonly refer to as Intuitive, receptive ways of knowing, or the Feminine Divine. Their interpretation was that Da Vinci was warning us of a cataclysmic flood, end of the world type stuff. Using my Intutive faculties, my interpretation is even more esoteric: Da Vinci is possibly warning us about the consequences of not being able to tame our emotions and our more base desires. Water = emotions (and the subconscious) in the world of symbolism. Water, the seas, etc. can be dark and mysterious. If we are UNAWARE of what is lurking in the waters of our unconscious selves, these primal forces can cause great storms in our lives, individually and collectively, or if we choose to "see" what is down there in the murky depths (instead of denying it), we can work with it, deal with it, face it, and have something nurturing and sustainable come from what may have once seemed impending doom or calamity. The world (starting with myself) needs to start looking more at its own Shadow side, rather than projecting our worst fears and anger (and other bullcocky) onto others. The roots of environmental devastation are a result of the fact that collectively, humanity is afraid to look at its Shadow side. Changing the INDIVIDUAL Self is changing the world ... one by one. Ghandi knew what he was talking about: "Be the Change." (But, that's just my opinion.)
So, Brad Meltzer or History.com: hire me to be your Symbologist -- and you'll get a WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY!!!
Showing posts with label Alchemy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alchemy. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Inner Genius
"In ancient times, everyone was considered to possess inner genius. It was a kind of guardian spirit that accompanied a person through life and helped one overcome odds and achieve personal heights. We've lost touch with this original meaning of genius (related etymologically to the fabled genie in the lamp) in all our concern over IQ testing and similar nonsense. It's time we brought it back."
Thomas Armstrong, PhD
Recently, a man who had read part of a play that I am currently writing, asked me: "how can this character claim to be "every-woman"?! If she can be "everyone," then what is to stop me from being you or you from being me?" To which I replied, "Exactly!"
Exploring this question is what motivates my very life and has led me to explore and experience myself as a poet. It occurred to me recently that years of experience in the Theater as an actor helped me develop me the very tools I would need to tap into the "poet within." It would seem that in terms of my own evolution as an artist and a human being, I am no longer happy to merely regurgitate and interpret other people's words. I have a compelling need to discover my own "voice" through poetry, which for me, is a spiritual journey.
Ever-fascinated by all subjects esoteric and mystical, I feel I am exploring the pathways that connect us all through poetry. When people say that we as a human race are "one," I believe that. I feel that by exploring the poetry that exists with in me, I am actually practicing a form of ancient Gnosis where the self is the ultimate portal to higher consciousness. The adage "know thyself" is Gnostic and contains more wisdom than people realize. Through the relationship I have created with the deepest, most cavernous places of my own being, I am learning to navigate my own inner labyrinth, and in doing so, seem to have found a portal, a tunnel that seems to lead me to a universal consciousness.
As an actor, I sometimes had what I like to call "quantum moments" onstage where I was able to exist for a few moments in a state of consciousness where it seemed that the "I" that was fearful and small and separate, no longer existed. In these moments, the "I or "me" that has a distinct form with visual and physical boundaries, would fall away and be momentarily forgotten, like I imagine an out of body experience might be. I focused my attention so deeply inside myself that there was only consciousness and a sense of calm and contentment. In every-day life we seem to buy into these walls and boundaries that show where you stop and I begin, to say this is where my country ends and yours begins, to state: "this is my home, not yours." Or, we observe these lines that tell us this is my skin, and that is the bark of a tree, and they are not the same. Many spiritualities teach that this thinking is an illusion, that the tree and the human, the bark and the skin, are facades in this 3D world of form that mask the consciousness that lies within. It is consciousness that unites us all. There really is no separation. This is the greatest fallacy, or dilemma, facing the human race, preventing our evolution, and allowing us to stay under the control of an elite few who know that if they keep us distracted from our true power via media and marketing, we will never tap into our true potential as spiritual beings. And by subjugating our own power, we enable them to remain in control, and allow them to continue the patriarchal profanity that they call "reality." Television and all of the gadgetry that creates constant noise, prevents us from hearing our own voices, our own wisdom. This wisdom begins to ring out loud and clear when we tap into the silence of our being. Poetry is but one means of tapping into that eternal source of power and wisdom.
When others hear my poetry and respond to me with an embrace, I see that gesture as confirmation that I have tapped into that universal stream of consciousness that is available to all of us. I have gone so deeply inside myself that I have touched a place not unlike "deep space." I imagine this place to be Carl Jung's "collective unconscious" which refers to that part of a person's unconscious that is common to all human beings. Jung said that it contains archetypes, the language of dreams, and these symbols are manifested by all people in all cultures. These symbols are said to exist prior to experience and are instinctual.
Sometimes I access this symbolic language through my dreams. Some of my best work comes out of the symbolism of dreams. Sometimes I access this symbolic language while awake. I see pictures or images in my imagination and then try to translate them into words. Other artists translate their visions into paintings or sculptures. But, the medium that seems to best suit my nature is that of words and language. As an actor, I used visualization techniques to refine my performances in my head before performing them in reality. Now, I improvise dialogues in my imagination with characters of my own creation, and sometimes these visualizations become a poem or a play.
Conversely, I have also created poetry by first allowing my mind to quiet itself of all thoughts and dialogue, to become a "tabula rasa." Eventually, out of the darkness and quiet, pictures or images emerge, and flash across the movie-screen in my mind. (For this reason, this coming to know the quiet and darkness within, I am absolutely not "afraid of the dark." For what lies within the darkness can be illuminating. I know that what happens inside me is reflected in external reality. For instance, people often chastise me for walking by myself at night or for hiking alone. To which I say, "Pshaw!" for I know that walking alone at night or hiking alone is an external reflection of what is happening inside me - a reflection of my learning to navigate through, and becoming comfortable with, the darker spaces of my being . Jung called it "integration." It is the process of coming to know the yin and yang, the dark and light, the feminine and masculine energies within myself. The more I learn about and befriend the darkness within myself, the less I fear the "shadow" in others). Mining myself for the poetry within, allows me to observe images in the darkness of the movie -theater in my mind (my imagination). At first, I just try to observe the images without attaching any meaning to them or trying to "figure them out." I find that if I jot these images down in a journal, then put them aside for a few days, oftentimes the images will manifest in my waking world when I travel to a new geographic area I have not been to before; or I may meet someone while I'm running errands who says something that creates an "aha!" moment, and my mind jumps back to the image I saw while I sat in quiet contemplation and some meaning begins to evolve. Often, these "aha" moments turn out to be a clue to an answer I am currently seeking in my life, or, it can be like a breadcrumb, leading me down a new path in life. After a few days of allowing the images to gestate in my subconscious, I will actively free-flow associations onto paper. For me, writing it all out in long-hand feels organic. Then, after having written a page or two, when nothing else seems to want to reveal itself, I actively attempt to craft a poem. At this point, I can see a message beginning to take shape out of the free-flow. This process of crafting the poem is exciting, like solving a mystery.
In the past I have been inspired by Hemingway's terse, clipped, journalistic style of writing, and I let that inform my poetry. Efficiency of words is key in poetry. Also, as an actor, I am always inspired by Shakespeare, who knew not only the current vernacular-usage of a word, but also knew the etymology. Thus, when Shakespeare chose a word, he chose the one that would embody double-entendres or convey triple and quadruple levels of meaning. He was also a mystic. He knew the ancient wisdom of the cycles and rhythms in nature. He was often commissioned by Royals to write plays, but within these political plays one also finds the language of ancient alchemy, the tarot, and astrology - which all carry within them the language of dreams, archetypes, and symbols. Elizabethan audiences understood this language very well as the more intuitive forms of knowledge were still within their ever-day lexicon. Shakespeare's plays were poetry. Poetry is alchemy. And the purpose of alchemy has always been a search for the mystical correspondences between the material and the immaterial.
Kathryn Preston
Thomas Armstrong, PhD
Recently, a man who had read part of a play that I am currently writing, asked me: "how can this character claim to be "every-woman"?! If she can be "everyone," then what is to stop me from being you or you from being me?" To which I replied, "Exactly!"
Exploring this question is what motivates my very life and has led me to explore and experience myself as a poet. It occurred to me recently that years of experience in the Theater as an actor helped me develop me the very tools I would need to tap into the "poet within." It would seem that in terms of my own evolution as an artist and a human being, I am no longer happy to merely regurgitate and interpret other people's words. I have a compelling need to discover my own "voice" through poetry, which for me, is a spiritual journey.
Ever-fascinated by all subjects esoteric and mystical, I feel I am exploring the pathways that connect us all through poetry. When people say that we as a human race are "one," I believe that. I feel that by exploring the poetry that exists with in me, I am actually practicing a form of ancient Gnosis where the self is the ultimate portal to higher consciousness. The adage "know thyself" is Gnostic and contains more wisdom than people realize. Through the relationship I have created with the deepest, most cavernous places of my own being, I am learning to navigate my own inner labyrinth, and in doing so, seem to have found a portal, a tunnel that seems to lead me to a universal consciousness.
As an actor, I sometimes had what I like to call "quantum moments" onstage where I was able to exist for a few moments in a state of consciousness where it seemed that the "I" that was fearful and small and separate, no longer existed. In these moments, the "I or "me" that has a distinct form with visual and physical boundaries, would fall away and be momentarily forgotten, like I imagine an out of body experience might be. I focused my attention so deeply inside myself that there was only consciousness and a sense of calm and contentment. In every-day life we seem to buy into these walls and boundaries that show where you stop and I begin, to say this is where my country ends and yours begins, to state: "this is my home, not yours." Or, we observe these lines that tell us this is my skin, and that is the bark of a tree, and they are not the same. Many spiritualities teach that this thinking is an illusion, that the tree and the human, the bark and the skin, are facades in this 3D world of form that mask the consciousness that lies within. It is consciousness that unites us all. There really is no separation. This is the greatest fallacy, or dilemma, facing the human race, preventing our evolution, and allowing us to stay under the control of an elite few who know that if they keep us distracted from our true power via media and marketing, we will never tap into our true potential as spiritual beings. And by subjugating our own power, we enable them to remain in control, and allow them to continue the patriarchal profanity that they call "reality." Television and all of the gadgetry that creates constant noise, prevents us from hearing our own voices, our own wisdom. This wisdom begins to ring out loud and clear when we tap into the silence of our being. Poetry is but one means of tapping into that eternal source of power and wisdom.
When others hear my poetry and respond to me with an embrace, I see that gesture as confirmation that I have tapped into that universal stream of consciousness that is available to all of us. I have gone so deeply inside myself that I have touched a place not unlike "deep space." I imagine this place to be Carl Jung's "collective unconscious" which refers to that part of a person's unconscious that is common to all human beings. Jung said that it contains archetypes, the language of dreams, and these symbols are manifested by all people in all cultures. These symbols are said to exist prior to experience and are instinctual.
Sometimes I access this symbolic language through my dreams. Some of my best work comes out of the symbolism of dreams. Sometimes I access this symbolic language while awake. I see pictures or images in my imagination and then try to translate them into words. Other artists translate their visions into paintings or sculptures. But, the medium that seems to best suit my nature is that of words and language. As an actor, I used visualization techniques to refine my performances in my head before performing them in reality. Now, I improvise dialogues in my imagination with characters of my own creation, and sometimes these visualizations become a poem or a play.
Conversely, I have also created poetry by first allowing my mind to quiet itself of all thoughts and dialogue, to become a "tabula rasa." Eventually, out of the darkness and quiet, pictures or images emerge, and flash across the movie-screen in my mind. (For this reason, this coming to know the quiet and darkness within, I am absolutely not "afraid of the dark." For what lies within the darkness can be illuminating. I know that what happens inside me is reflected in external reality. For instance, people often chastise me for walking by myself at night or for hiking alone. To which I say, "Pshaw!" for I know that walking alone at night or hiking alone is an external reflection of what is happening inside me - a reflection of my learning to navigate through, and becoming comfortable with, the darker spaces of my being . Jung called it "integration." It is the process of coming to know the yin and yang, the dark and light, the feminine and masculine energies within myself. The more I learn about and befriend the darkness within myself, the less I fear the "shadow" in others). Mining myself for the poetry within, allows me to observe images in the darkness of the movie -theater in my mind (my imagination). At first, I just try to observe the images without attaching any meaning to them or trying to "figure them out." I find that if I jot these images down in a journal, then put them aside for a few days, oftentimes the images will manifest in my waking world when I travel to a new geographic area I have not been to before; or I may meet someone while I'm running errands who says something that creates an "aha!" moment, and my mind jumps back to the image I saw while I sat in quiet contemplation and some meaning begins to evolve. Often, these "aha" moments turn out to be a clue to an answer I am currently seeking in my life, or, it can be like a breadcrumb, leading me down a new path in life. After a few days of allowing the images to gestate in my subconscious, I will actively free-flow associations onto paper. For me, writing it all out in long-hand feels organic. Then, after having written a page or two, when nothing else seems to want to reveal itself, I actively attempt to craft a poem. At this point, I can see a message beginning to take shape out of the free-flow. This process of crafting the poem is exciting, like solving a mystery.
In the past I have been inspired by Hemingway's terse, clipped, journalistic style of writing, and I let that inform my poetry. Efficiency of words is key in poetry. Also, as an actor, I am always inspired by Shakespeare, who knew not only the current vernacular-usage of a word, but also knew the etymology. Thus, when Shakespeare chose a word, he chose the one that would embody double-entendres or convey triple and quadruple levels of meaning. He was also a mystic. He knew the ancient wisdom of the cycles and rhythms in nature. He was often commissioned by Royals to write plays, but within these political plays one also finds the language of ancient alchemy, the tarot, and astrology - which all carry within them the language of dreams, archetypes, and symbols. Elizabethan audiences understood this language very well as the more intuitive forms of knowledge were still within their ever-day lexicon. Shakespeare's plays were poetry. Poetry is alchemy. And the purpose of alchemy has always been a search for the mystical correspondences between the material and the immaterial.
Kathryn Preston
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Child of Nature
When we last checked in with our protagonist, she was in Marble, CO at the Kiva contemplating the play “Our Town,” and the character Emily Gibbs asking, “Does anyone ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?” And she was sure that there were people who did. Thornton Wilder may have been one. Buddha, Jesus, the Dalai Lama, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, the avatars in India. She longed to be like them, to fully realize life and her soul’s true purpose.
Today, we find our beloved heroine standing in the middle of the North Star Nature Preserve near Aspen, crying. Elated and saddened at the same time, she feels so alive with the energy and beauty of natural-majesty all around her, yet feels her spirit being bludgeoned by this repetitious pattern of having to take meaningless jobs where she caters to people’s superficial egos and meaningless desires.
She is standing in the middle of Creation, at the edge of a pond, searching the protective peaks all around her, pleading with Jesus and all the ascended masters: "how do I create the reality that I want to live, the one where I am like Anne Labastille in Woodswoman, or like Drunvalo Melchizedek, who gave up mundane society and walked off Into The Wild to live in the mountains and forests? How do I get back to the Garden?”
Ever the rebel and freedom-fighter, she’s not even remotely interested in the never-never land reality of some glamorous second-home-playground to the rich and famous, but is soulfully and ardently enchanted with the thought of living in harmony with nature, in living simply, in living off the land, not taking any more than she needs, and enjoying the roses along the way -- like Henry David Thoreau. She knows in her heart she will be living her Truth when she is learning how to navigate wild terrain, living off the land, chopping her own firewood, because she never feels more alive than when engaged in a nurturing dialectic between Mother Nature and her own Wild Nature. How many times has she envied women who know all about herbs, berries, trees, and all the wild plants of the earth: which are edible? which are not? which are good for tinctures and medicinal uses? which make the best pies? To be able to read animal tracks and habits, to understand the cycles within cycles and seasons within seasons the way tribal peoples do. She has been longing for a teacher, a soul-mate, a miracle, a deus-ex-machina to appear and lead her to that cozy little log cabin in the woods that she yearns for. Not a log-home Mc Mansion, but a rustic one-room cabin, with a woodstove and enough room for herself and her fellow mischief-maker; a place of simplicity and clarity from which to learn the ancient ways.
She recalls days in childhood when she was taken to the woods to cut down trees for firewood, calling “Tim-berrrrr!” at the top of her lungs; the gorgeous scent of pine-soaked days making her ecstatic; days spent gathering sap in buckets to make syrup; days in the forest picking blueberries; endless hours spent traipsing through the woods following myriad paths, seeing miracle after miracle … these have been her happiest hours on Earth.
She hikes into the unknown with reckless abandon, exploring a new and mysterious path, and suddenly her "baby" shows up after been "on assignment." She grins as she slowly sizes him up while he approaches; he radiates warm sunshine, and she is ecstatic. He winks at her and says, "Hello, my Love. Did you miss me?"
Like her, he is a journalist/photographer: an imaginative Intuitive, a creative-writer, an visual/abstract thinker. He longs to live in a log cabin in the woods, where together they can pursue their love of writing, and their desire to photograph and be-one-with-nature, with full fervor. After sharing the trail and baring their souls over countless hours, he stops her dead in her tracks and tells her that she is his best friend and ally, and asks if she really wants to be free!?! And if she does, will she go with him and really do what they’ve been talking about doing? She doesn’t even hesitate. She smiles that secret smile. In her mind, they're already gone. They are already deep in the beautiful wilderness, miles from anywhere, building their dream homestead, and they are oh so blissfully happy.
Today, we find our beloved heroine standing in the middle of the North Star Nature Preserve near Aspen, crying. Elated and saddened at the same time, she feels so alive with the energy and beauty of natural-majesty all around her, yet feels her spirit being bludgeoned by this repetitious pattern of having to take meaningless jobs where she caters to people’s superficial egos and meaningless desires.
She is standing in the middle of Creation, at the edge of a pond, searching the protective peaks all around her, pleading with Jesus and all the ascended masters: "how do I create the reality that I want to live, the one where I am like Anne Labastille in Woodswoman, or like Drunvalo Melchizedek, who gave up mundane society and walked off Into The Wild to live in the mountains and forests? How do I get back to the Garden?”
Ever the rebel and freedom-fighter, she’s not even remotely interested in the never-never land reality of some glamorous second-home-playground to the rich and famous, but is soulfully and ardently enchanted with the thought of living in harmony with nature, in living simply, in living off the land, not taking any more than she needs, and enjoying the roses along the way -- like Henry David Thoreau. She knows in her heart she will be living her Truth when she is learning how to navigate wild terrain, living off the land, chopping her own firewood, because she never feels more alive than when engaged in a nurturing dialectic between Mother Nature and her own Wild Nature. How many times has she envied women who know all about herbs, berries, trees, and all the wild plants of the earth: which are edible? which are not? which are good for tinctures and medicinal uses? which make the best pies? To be able to read animal tracks and habits, to understand the cycles within cycles and seasons within seasons the way tribal peoples do. She has been longing for a teacher, a soul-mate, a miracle, a deus-ex-machina to appear and lead her to that cozy little log cabin in the woods that she yearns for. Not a log-home Mc Mansion, but a rustic one-room cabin, with a woodstove and enough room for herself and her fellow mischief-maker; a place of simplicity and clarity from which to learn the ancient ways.
She recalls days in childhood when she was taken to the woods to cut down trees for firewood, calling “Tim-berrrrr!” at the top of her lungs; the gorgeous scent of pine-soaked days making her ecstatic; days spent gathering sap in buckets to make syrup; days in the forest picking blueberries; endless hours spent traipsing through the woods following myriad paths, seeing miracle after miracle … these have been her happiest hours on Earth.
She hikes into the unknown with reckless abandon, exploring a new and mysterious path, and suddenly her "baby" shows up after been "on assignment." She grins as she slowly sizes him up while he approaches; he radiates warm sunshine, and she is ecstatic. He winks at her and says, "Hello, my Love. Did you miss me?"
Like her, he is a journalist/photographer: an imaginative Intuitive, a creative-writer, an visual/abstract thinker. He longs to live in a log cabin in the woods, where together they can pursue their love of writing, and their desire to photograph and be-one-with-nature, with full fervor. After sharing the trail and baring their souls over countless hours, he stops her dead in her tracks and tells her that she is his best friend and ally, and asks if she really wants to be free!?! And if she does, will she go with him and really do what they’ve been talking about doing? She doesn’t even hesitate. She smiles that secret smile. In her mind, they're already gone. They are already deep in the beautiful wilderness, miles from anywhere, building their dream homestead, and they are oh so blissfully happy.
Monday, February 15, 2010
intoxication of illusion
Intoxication of Illusion
by Kathryn Preston
The magical prescence manifesting
mirrors the poet-picasso-passion-power
invested in me by a universe experiencing ecstatic intimacy
through this heavenly body
and my divine polarity.
Cosmic counterparts coupling,
uniting, inviting
primal explosions:
portals of expanding consciousness
transcending, transforming, transporting,
penetrating deep within the world-womb,
the source of knowing,
the secret-soul-center,
longing for liberation from limitation, separation,
and the intoxication of illusion.
by Kathryn Preston on Monday, February 15, 2010
© 2010 Kathryn Preston
by Kathryn Preston
The magical prescence manifesting
mirrors the poet-picasso-passion-power
invested in me by a universe experiencing ecstatic intimacy
through this heavenly body
and my divine polarity.
Cosmic counterparts coupling,
uniting, inviting
primal explosions:
portals of expanding consciousness
transcending, transforming, transporting,
penetrating deep within the world-womb,
the source of knowing,
the secret-soul-center,
longing for liberation from limitation, separation,
and the intoxication of illusion.
by Kathryn Preston on Monday, February 15, 2010
© 2010 Kathryn Preston
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