With autumn upon us, the nights have grown colder; the days are shorter. The trees transitioning their resources creates a spectacular array of colors as this cycle’s growth gives way to make possible next years blossoms. Death, one of the more well known archetypes of the 22 in Tarot’s Major Arcana has found their season. Versions of the archetype are seen decorating homes of many people around me. Each a uniquely grotesque memento mori that I have found delightful at times when human society seemed more distant from our dance with death. Death, considered as one of a quartet, among War, Pestilence, and Famine, from the Christian myths, seem to be quite active in different parts of our shared garden at the moment. As clouds grow in one region, some take my metaphor literally and welcome the destruction, others may pray the winds of fortune blow in a different direction. Historical memory, if extended far enough, reminds that fortune is a temporary respite from apocalyptic storms. Perhaps it is not utopian to dream that these tendencies can be transcended? Equally possible we will be destroyed in the process; or turned into something unrecognizable. Perilous times require detailed maps and careful navigation.
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My own mystical map, often considers “Death” as part of a triad; one of three bridges used to navigate a territory. All of us will cross Death, and any who appear immune are likely on a perpendicular path “The Devil.” The most unfortunate of individuals in this territory, often find themselves experiencing “Destruction” at the base of this triangle (known as the Tower to tarot traditionalists), with “Death” or “The Devil” as more advantageous paths considered from their current trajectory. As with any bridge one can cross in two directions, “The Devil” can be redeemed just as “Death” can lead one to a transcendent position. Both of these bridges can lead different individuals further apart or together. While we often don’t get to choose when the “Wheel of Fortune” throws us into the territory of this triad, we always have some choice where the bridge leads. I have recognized, in recent years, that my own aims - coupled with my location in spacetime generally preclude me from talking about specific global issues, many of us might be mentally grappling with. Rather, I hope that myths and archetypes will help us see beyond our current perspectives.
I am personally fortunate to currently feel separation from literal death, though it finds us each in time. I experienced a recent spiritual destruction of sorts; I’m used to moving through some version every few years. Most recently I performed, by myself: something I haven’t done in 20 years. The dress rehearsal went well, not miraculous, but a good if not very encouraging showing. There were things I would seek to go better on the following night. Slow calm drilling occupied a couple hours of my day preceding the performance. At 6:40 I sat to meditate preceding our 7:10 start time. I stood up with my legs asleep, which I have in hindsight attributed to the complete lack of stability to my performance of the Biber Passicagalia. I do not note this troubling my mind or spirit heavily, but it took attention and focus away from my best showing. The Bach began came next with memory loss that had never happened and in hindsight seems very foolish. “To act “The fool,” may be thought of as an archetype mirroring “Death.” “The fool,” also like “death” has a perpendicular path “The magician.” All artists in performance may be seen to take on one of these roles. Those deliberately seeking to embody “the magician” find it fairly troubling when they seem to be acting “the fool.” “The magician” not unlike “the devil” acts in a calculated fashion. “The fool” more akin to “death” in this manner, is subject to the shifting winds. In my aforementioned violin performance, as my memory became more in doubt I would occasionally succeed in dissociating and allowing the “fool” to just move his fingers in an order and timing that felt right/familiar. When “I” would think about the process “The magician” would come online questioning what was happening. As identities clashed, the more lost I became. The closing applause was torturous, my invoking of a personal Mephistopheles would like Saturn’s ring, a halo now a noose; I have likely been ungracious in receiving most praise about this event. I’ve been told many were moved and seeds have been planted, despite my own subjective experience. From my own perspective it was a monumental failure. I allowed myself to quit the violin for 24 hours and thought I have played relatively little since the event something is returning. I’m still processing what the end result of this new growth will look like. My instinct has been to take the path of “The Devil” and calculate how to create some phoenix arising from the ashes, but history reminds me that “Death” is also possible, perhaps even preferable sometimes. In experiencing “Death,” one is invited to feel without reacting or attempting to fix the situation. With winter approaching I feel closer to death, sad - but not destroyed. Underneath the soil my roots have grown more connected in the past year’s cycle.
*Days after writing the last sentence, older roots have reconnected and grown more complex in their relationships. Sometimes a simple acknowledgment of death allows something new to be born. I’ll be joining an old friend, former student, current colleague, and a current teacher of mine in a collaboration. Alex Brazinski a skilled healer (Acupuncture and Bodywork), thoughtfully patient teacher (Yoga/Dance/Movement), and beautifully practiced mover - will be presenting an acrobatic dance performance and I will be lending sound to his magnificent visual. More on this soon.*
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If you are reading this, our roots are connected. When winter arrives appearances may seem less vibrant but the underground network is growing increasingly vital. Like plants communicating through a mycorrhizal network; Our individual expressions become possible through what has been shared, exchanged and gifted. We use these resources sustaining roots until any fruit can be produced for the broader community to consume. Thank you for the notes and gifts sent through the virtual world and the words and kind touch in the physical. I’m grateful to the spaces that have served as shelter in the past and those standing as current sanctuaries. Together or apart I carry all this with me, it purifies the air we share. This air comes from the same place that winds carry storms. In Yoga, Prāna (breath/life force) interacts with the vāyus (winds). As we turn our focus back to the societal storms, I hope we can find the same grace that so many display on a personal level. When destruction becomes detached from the personal, such as with disease, war and other (even if not entirely remote) more abstract crises - it seems routine to treat individuals effected as abstract entities/data and statistics at best and ideological casualties at worst. In this respect our online personality often finds the worst avatar of humanity. Sharing information may at times feel essential, we each wish to share awareness about a cause that is close to our hearts. Even a meme may feel warranted, as it can cut to what we see as a core truth - but who will be lost in our efforts? I have often thought which friend could receive a meme with an experience of camaraderie and which might feel alienated by the idea it conveyed to them. I am against most forms of censorship (I suspect more than your average person who thoughtlessly says “all forms”) but I am more strict on self-censorship, mostly for strategic reasons. My goals tend toward balance, and even if I may feels strongly about an issue (like I have many times over the past several years of increased self-censorship) - that which pushes further toward polarization is against the goal. The perpendicular pillars of our aforementioned triangles have middle paths, it is possible to travel on a north south access for those of us not directly affected by a current cultural/societal destruction. The “high priestess” and the art of “Temperance” provide maps to different approaches.
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At a young age, while listening to beloved music that created an impression I was indoctrinated that “silence can be violence.” I am only able to resonate with this sentiment today because Zack De La Rocha was more careful in his words than I remembered. I falsely remembered him saying “is,” but he knew to remind the deep listener that words are symbols: “some speak the sounds but speak in silent voices.” Though I believe he meant this line to speak about those who would oppress his speech, its inverse is equally true. Those who seek to bridge the seemingly unbridgeable - recognize that words can be violence and strong action can be done in silence. I’ve spent about 1000 hours in the past year with the music I presented on October 15th for an hour and a half. I perceived that .1% of time to be an incoherent babble - compared to the eloquence displayed at the dress rehearsal on October 14th another .1% of a whole that can only be understood by those who practice in silence for some Devilish attempt to transfix an audience with something magnificent. Preparation will never be complete, but it means nothing if one never speaks their message. - that said… The hardest things to say require immense care and preparation, we may fall short of our intentions but often, if the effort has been applied, our message will move our audience.
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Header Image: by Joe Longo 2016 (a harrowing year of personal destruction (divorce and other divisions to follow), since bridged and transcended).
An earlier draft of this blog was made to Patreon a week earlier
Upcoming event:
Breathing with Intention
December 10th 3-5pm at Burning Lotus Studio in Furlong, PA
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New Studio class Monday 6pm at Cocoon Philly in Germantown, Philadelphia
(starts November 6th with a full month of bring a friend for free).
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Small group Architectural Movement classes continue to be held in Germantown, Philadelphia at Root and Branch Bodywork
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and
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Noah