We were having some plumbing work done, and I was in the basement doing the laundry. And then I hear a scratching sound. Thinking it was mice I looked for its source, only to discover the sound was coming from inside the waste water pipes. So that meant rats. I went upstairs, saw that the s-bend had been removed below the kitchen sink, and immediately covered it. You see, when the s-bend is removed the air begins to flow again, and rats further down the pipes feel it. So they come to investigate. Why does this matter? Simply because there is a flow that we can learn from. Clean water comes from the taps, is used, and flows to waste. The same thing happens with our energy, our thoughts and our inspirations. We constantly receive them so that we can use them and then make space for new ones. But if this flow is interrupted then we don't get just stasis - we get rats climbing up the pipes. We invite destructive energies in - and they will come. Use this metaphor in your life. Accept the flow of energy and don't stop it or try to control it. That will only invite the rats in.
I have a now gas stove in my house and yes, it is very pleasant. Yet -- a couple of things have stayed with me through the process of buying it. Many stoves that look nice actually only have huge gas rings to deliver the heat. This means that unless you have a huge, flat-bottomed pan much of the heat will go around your pan and cause the food to get burned on to the side wall of said pan. So not only are you wasting heat, but you're causing a dishwashing nightmare for later. This is easily cured. For folks like me who need to heat up a small quantity of something all you need is a smaller ring. Yet -- try finding a stove that has those and looks halfway decent. An idea that is even better is that each ring can be made of two more more concentric flame rings. Big pot? Light them both. Small pot? Just light the smaller one. In Europe, where power is expensive, they've had this system for a long time. Why not here? In fact, think about that for a second: in Europe there are cars that routinely deliver 60 mpg, and have done for decades. If I were paying $10 a gallon I'd want that too. But here energy is still cheap - laughably so. Energy efficiency is being quietly subverted by simply not offering products that are truly energy efficient. Big business wins again.
I keep exploring these ideas, since they run counter to everything we take as "normal" -- and yet some of those ancient beliefs powered successful civilizations for far longer than our present, post-reformation belief system. How would our world be if we shifted away from "me" and "us" and "success" and such constructs? How would life be if we placed peace and sustainability first? What would happen if we focused on handing over the planet to our children and grandchildren in better condition than we found it? And better does not necessarily mean more concrete or more billionaires. One of the sacred symbols of the Eleuisian religions seems to have been the pine cone. Think of it: a protective structure for seeds; one that opens and closes in response to weather; one that is linked to an evergreen; one that decays to provide rooting for the seeds. What a great symbol that is of caring for the next generation, linking us to mortality and immortality. There's a huge example of one of these sacred pine cones, preserved in (of all places) the Vatican, which has a special courtyard for a very large bronze/gilt rendering, mounted on a stone plinth. The whole thing is about 25 feet high and dates from about the First Century AD. The pine cone was venerated for the reasons we have deduced already, and almost certainly for others. For example, its value as a symbol of renewable nature turned it into a favorite phallic symbol for the Greeks, when mounted on the top of a Thyrsus or pole. Fertility was on their minds, and that ties in pretty well with the Nature worship cults it was part of. And beyond that, perhaps, lurks a simple lesson: we are vessels (one way or another) for the generations that will follow. Anything we do must be in service to that. This is conveyed in a rather humorous version of this idea, one that dates from 480BC. A Menead thwacks a Satyr (always an image of sexual voracity) with a Thyrsus topped by a pine cone as if to say: there's more to the honoring of fertility than just individual pleasure.
Most mornings I look out and see the same procession. First comes the black and white collie dog; 15 yards behind comes its owner, the frail-looking lady who lives around the corner and who also dresses in mostly black and white; 15 yards behind her is a grey long haired cat, trotting along, but diverting into the front garden bushes if a car comes appears. The cat likes walks, too, it seems. I look across my own yard where, usually, the wild rabbit is chomping away in a favorite spot. I don't know what to make of this, but I do know that if it were to stop then I'd miss it enormously.
Mel Robbins (no relation to Tony) has some rather good Youtube videos about "The Five Second Rule". Briefly outlined - if you do not respond to an inner prompting within 5 seconds your brain will find reasons not to do it. This tends to work with things like exercise, where you want to do it but of course you can always find reasons not to. So you don't do it. Conversely, if you crave chocolate then you tend to put activating energy into those first five seconds even if it takes you a few more than five second to get to where your candy stash is. And chocolate is your reward. Mel's advice, then, is to act within that five second span before you talk yourself out of a great idea. This is the route to success. This is how I used to be. I used to act immediately on such inner promptings. What I learned, as time went by, was that doing so can be deeply annoying to one's nearest and dearest, who keep saying things like: calm down; can't you relax; and variants thereof. I'm tempted to conclude that "success" may be delightful, but if it comes at the expense of alienating household members, friends, and so on, then it might be a bit of a Phrryic victory.
I've been investigating early spiritual belief systems as reflected in European archaeological remains. This is a tricky topic - it's a bit like trying to imagine the original landscape after the developers have moved in, built high rises and parking lots and created a water-park. But it can be done. As I've been pondering Nature-based religions I'm struck by a couple of things. The first is how primal they are. Anyone can experience a state of wonder when looking at a flower - if you allow yourself to do so. Anyone can feel at one with the Natural world and its beauty, if we pause. The next step is the most challenging for us, though. If we accept that Nature is huge and that we are part of it, then we become part of the miracle. The trouble is we have to see that we're only a small part. Very small. We will die, like the flower, and our ultimate "value" is not in whether or not we leave behind copies of ourselves or our achievements for the next generation. Perhaps the flower will be eaten by an animal; perhaps it will decay and power the next series of plants. Who can tell? It serves its purpose one way or another. That's a very threatening idea to the ego-based consciousness that currently runs the human race. The ego wants to be validated. And that may be a clue. The powerful modern religions of the western world tend to focus on the stories of individuals: Moses, Jesus, Mohammed - even the Buddha in that belief system that isn't a religion. When we shift from the appreciation of Nature to focus on a specific life story (Jesus and the saints; the Old Testament patriarchs and prophets, etc.) we make the belief system more accessible, more personal. That's good. But we feed the ego of the worshipper as we do so. To say "I am like Jesus and will try to be like him" is very different from saying, "I am part of the vast miracle that is Nature". Humans have been around for a very long time, but the distinctive male-based monotheism that characterizes the West has not been around for very long. 5000 years seems to be the upper calculation. Perhaps it was that way of seeing which led us astray?
A large tree grows near my house, but on my neighbor's lot. For some time the lower branches on one side have reached over to my house. I've wondered about the damage that could happen when the branches bash against my house in a gale, and about the squirrels climbing onto my roof and into my attic. All those worries. Then, yesterday, I noticed the the squirrels have taken to trotting down the offending branches and ripping off the bark to line their nests. This kills the branches, which will soon drop off and so -- no more branch problems and no more squirrel fears. Worry is so unproductive, isn't it?
History - and things historical - seem to go through phases. Here's an example. An object is manufactured and several hundred thousand are sold. After a while they get old and people chuck them away because, "There are so many of them". Wait a bit and suddenly there are very few left, and those few are declared to be "classics", endangered, desperate for conservation. Whether it's a Rolls Royce or a table the same thing happens. Why do we do this? Why do we wait until the last Dodo or the last rhino or the last Pearl Harbor vet before we pay attention to what is before us? And that's the human tragedy. So let's make it personal. You may gather wisdom and learning beyond measure, but the chances are that no one much will listen to you until, when you're buried, they try to dredge up what you said, did, or wrote. Only a civilization that is confused about how to respond to death would be so irrational.
After taking a break from blogging and Facebook posts and so on -- what do I notice? I notice how much time I have free. Well, says I, that's nice. Now I can do all those other things. Then follows a pause. What other things? What do I actually feel like doing? I know I used to have a million thoughts about stuff that I wanted and needed to do. That to-do list still exists. Somewhere. What has changed is that I don't feel like doing them anymore. In fact the blogging and FB posts (and the marketing of books, the writing of articles and so much more) took over a portion of my life and displaced all the things I actually liked doing. I discovered I'm out of the habit of doing things that re-create me. The question is a real one: can I get back to me? Well, of course I can, but while I do that I'm left noticing that, like any addiction, this one caught me hard in its grasp, and I liked it. Like any addiction it wasn't until I noticed the other costs that I held back from what I was doing. All that time at a keyboard? It was starting to give me aches and pains from too much sitting, typing. My exercise routine was disrupted by interviews and deadlines and just one more thing that needed to be written. Shoulders, eyesight, back, hips, knees, fingers -- all began to show signs of distress. I move around more, now. The aches are almost all gone. My doctor (who was all set to do surgery and give me medications) things it's a miracle. It's not. It's just about getting back to being healthy - which sometimes means treating one's body and mind as if it deserves rest, gentle treatment, and diversion.
I can honesty say that I do not understand money at all. Example: I had some money in a Bank in England. It was inherited from my mother's estate. I looked at the economic situation in England, at Brexit, at the collapse of the markets and the flight of financial institutions to Frankfurt and concluded: the British pound is dying. So I got my money out. Guess what? Since then the value of the pound has continued to go up. At the same time I thought about the US dollar. Trump in charge (nominally) and the economy in tatters for most people, with only the super wealthy likely to benefit.... I concluded that the dollar would weaken, and that the small amount of Canadian change I had left over from my last vacation would be worth even less since Canada depends so much on the US. Wrong again. The value of the Loony (as they call it) went up. Now, none of this made much of a difference to me. I think the loss in each case was equivalent to about a round of drinks and a plate of nachos. But I shall think again when I hear of markets responding with "irrational exuberance". Money has laws of its own that have little to do with reality.