It's high noon. In the dream it's always high noon. And I am inside of a school, a home - different settings with the sudden need to go outside. I open the door to step out and instead of the light of "high noon" there is nothing but pitch black. Inky, thick, darkness. What??? And I think to myself, "this is not going to be an ordinary day..."
It's high noon folks. And there's a lot of darkness out there. You can feel it - it's palpable: the fear, the worry, the concern. If you don't feel it, it must be because you're too busy shopping. But then you're probably not here reading the ramblings of el poquito. So for you quaking in our collective boots, I offer this silly little blog.
"Maybe I should take a break from it all and try to mend my heart."
Hmmm... mystery words that arrive in a dream worth considering. Stepping back from terror always begins with that - stepping back...."maybe I should take a break from it all..."
Interesting advice when one is stuck in darkness at noon like a fly to flypaper...
That is the story, again and again. How do we step back against the onslaught of life's wounds and injuries, when it jostles us about, as it, lives us? Yes, sometimes life lives us - despite our tantrums, our pleadings and supplications and our positive thinking. It still lives us, over and over again. And that part can be frightening. The surrender necessary, is over most of our heads We are a people of get and have, a culture of not enough, living under a banner of victors and winners. But how do you break the darkness that reaches across the sky at high noon when you can't bend the universe to your will? There are some forces that are just too big.
I take to heart, concentration camp survivor Dr. Victor Frankl and his advice that the key that unlocks the prison door is in our response to the horror we find ourselves living in. It's in the response. One more time - the ticket is in the response. My response will determine my next destination, and my chance out of this darkness. Much can be lost or stolen, but the one thing that we can determine never to lose is that small, still place within us where our dignity and hope live with our ability to determine our next response. This is the only worthwhile ticket. The others are only fantasy 5-day cruises. Tempting, but they only offer 5 days. I'm holding out.
It's not in the willful attempt to create my reality where I will find relief or sustenance or joy. It's in my response to the life living me.
Step back - and try to mend the heart.
Which brings me here. To this. To you in this "Blogs 'r Us" world. The past almost three years has been a rugged journey for me. For many I have disappeared, especially in this past year when my physical limiting conditions caused me to "step back". It's been a year of retreat, rediscovery and reconstruction. A big restoration project - not as before, but with some of the old parts torn down with some new wings and additions added. So you, dear reader, I invite you to this place with el poquito to "tizitl blogspot". Tizitl is nahuatl, an indigenous language of Mexico and the southwest. Tizitl means healer. I want to carve out one more piece into the darkness surrounding, a place to touch upon healing - for myself and for all of us. A healing garden, hence flower and song - an old tradition of Mexico: flor y canto.
I leave you with this:
the word holy
all have the same root -
and if one is the same as the other
or cousins at least
then the holy
is the wholly
from the sacred
to the profane.
Tiahui (forward in courage - your next nahuatl vocabulary word)
tiahui, always forward, always forward....
Come join me at el poquito's table... we have much to share.