Gaia’s infinite wisdom and essence permeates all life and universe vast without limitation for She is not a Being, a construct, an energy — She is All of these and None of these — She is form and non-form, in me and part of me, me within Her and Her outside of me flowing as the ultimate Source. She is beyond comprehension and what we glimpse of Her are facets of Her Grace, thus, the possibility of my grace, our grace.
“Know Thyself.” ~ earnest advice inscribed at the Oracle of Delphi, but a far more ancient concept.
“If that which you seek, you find not within, you will never find it without.” ~ from Charge of the Goddess by Doreen Valiente
That which is sought, the “it” is: Self, peace, love, divinity …
Through Jung and his perspectives on psychology … To be seeking Grace and the Soul in Life, in Living. Not to be trapped in the past or stuck in reviewing the past, but rather using it consciously as a tool, a mirror into revealing sacred Self and Source. There is a balance to be discovered within this exploration, one that allows peace and love to flow … if these energies aren’t becoming stronger during the times of non-reflection, then the Self-discovery is stagnant and stuck in the ego-woes of former moments. The psychological quest is meant to be a healing process; if one is not feeling the healing seeping in like a transfusion of a fresh, clean, pure blood from the heart of Gaia … then one must review where one has gone off the healing path. Jungian psychology supports the process as both: a healing journey and a spiritual journey.
E.D. #657 (randomly drawn following the above pre-write)
I dwell in Possibility —
A fairer House than Prose —
More numerous of Windows —
Superior — for Doors —
Of Chambers as the Cedars —
Impregnable of Eye —
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky —
Of Visitors — the fairest —
For Occupation — This —
The spreading wide of narrow Hands
To gather Paradise —
The first line of this poem has long been one of my favorites, ever since hearing it decades ago. I’m happy to have it come up so early in my process of journeying through Emily’s works! The infinite grace of that first line is a touchstone that typifies my personality and I return to it again and again. However, I also need to regularly encourage myself beyond its essence — and mine — because if I only dwell in possibility, then I cannot birth anything, I remain within the womb, the cocoon, the chrysalis.
Possibility is many avenues …
Possibility is a gorgeous world of imagination I can climb into always through Self or others in books. Creation of story and characters — I have rarely been lonely, though I am often alone, as I enjoy the company of imaginal visitors … This is the possibility in which I dwell, not one of poetry but of Nature and Creature and Spirit flying free within me as we explore together the potentiality that is a path of envisioning. Stories within myself that can be embellished or seen clearly — shared or remain private. All the world a story to be interpreted through the lens of imagination or experience, to pluck the buds and blossoms while fresh or deadhead them once their flush of bounty has fallen away and they, the wise ones, the unknowing ones, journey into decay to be reborn, even through a story in which they might not recognize themselves. Did they ever know themselves aside from their roles in society and the hurry of keeping busy?
Know thyself. A prime guide among many spiritual teachings from mystics to wisdom-keepers.
To “dwell in possibility” is “to gather Paradise” with these hands that weave the stories, tell the tales, share the journey that has infinite endings and know Self through all adventures learning more in every chapter and with each fork in the road as the surface changes constantly while seasons spiral, circling me round the Self witnessing, loving.
A provocative post on anthropomorphism in religion creates another of these potential openings, a portal to climb through that can lead in any direction for …
Gaia is the very essence of possibility shifting each breath, every pulse and glance and embrace. Her possibility is infinite as can be witnessed by the diversity of how She is “imagined” into being by each of us. Gaia — as Nature (or matter) and Spirit (space or non-matter) — is the ultimate possibility that grants all the rest; within field or forest, desert or ocean, the possibility of spirit-in-matter and matter-in-spirit seeps, rains, blows, burns, and lifts life into creativity where, in my case, another story begins. Our not-so-final rest within Her breast presents another facet of possibility to soar away from body and explore, whispering these new infinite perceptions to those still in form and they hear and write and are infused with the realization of the permeability that is Gaia within and without.
No matter where or how we are, our very Being is always dwelling in possibility and to refuse to see our choices as opportunities is to allow oneself to feel trapped or restricted. Let us feel into our own stories and imagine all the possibilities! Write, draw, paint, dance, build, weave, cook, birth … Release the limitations that blind us to possibility.
Now is time,
the dark moon invites us to
release what no longer serves —
She will soon shift and begin to grow
Her abundant grace for our envisioning.
Walking in dark gardens,
no moon glow to light the way,
infinite possibility is revealed
greater than in day
when we are distracted by the glare
that seeks to point in one direction …
rather than everywhere.
open to Her hidden face above and below,
and — within — the possibility is shown.
While writing and reflecting, I was presented with the image of Surprise Lilies. Immediately upon my first introduction to them many years ago, I was enamored. I love how their foliage emerges in late winter or early spring; grand verdant leaves that soon fall into dormancy and decay without any apparent result from their efforts. Then … all but forgotten, in late summer or autumn, sturdy stalks emerge and rise high holding exquisite lilies unfolding. The possibility that lay in the early foliage was often undetected, unrecognized. Yet, the Late Bloomer* suddenly emerges, tall and naked, vulnerable yet brave in her brief exposure.