The sea’s been a bit choppy this last while. And it’s always a difficultdemarcation to find, between personal and public. There really isn’t a boundary at all – we just put on masks and pretend, but I know and you know that under the mask we are still the same unified person.
A long time ago I saw a wonderful and very disturbing Japanese film called “Onibaba”, about a mask that wouldn’t come off. It’s a scary thing, putting on a persona. What if you can’t take it off again?
On the other hand, the personal can be very uninteresting. We all have our good days and our bad days, little triumphs and upset tummies and finally it’s not just a mask that can be a prison, but the body itself. None of this is news, and none of it is essentially interesting, except to the people who are close to us. I guess our lives are no more or less interesting than a bird’s. “Hey, I laid four warm eggs today.” “Oh my, the eggs have hatched.” “Oh dear. One of the fledglings fell out of the nest and a crow got him.” “Uh oh, time to fly south, I guess.” “I found a new kind of spider today. Very tasty.” And finally, “Uh oh. Broke my wing. Here comes that goddam cat. Oh well.”
On the other hand the bird might speak of the navigation tools it uses to travel ten thousand miles twice a year. Of how it felt to leap from the edge of the nest and start falling, then spread its wings. It might in some way, as we do, recall its own ancestry, track back to when its lineal forbears, the dinosaurs, ruled the earth, and mammals were tiny insectivores, too small to be of interest to a dinosaur. But prey for the big insects that crawled and flew, dragonflies the size of kites, six-foot carnivorous scorpions. No wonder we are horrified by insects. What must we remember ourselves?
I’m spreading my wings. There appears to be no space in the dimension I currently inhabit – kind of like opening an umbrella in the bathroom. So, since the wings are going to open, something’s going to have to give.
Fly like an albatross overy the homeless grey sea.
The Odin conversation has become quite strong. I’m putting it in my newsletter. If you want it, go push the “subscribe” button at my website. I give away free stuff every month. Also interested in contributors – kind of turn it into a magazine.
Fives are about confinement in form, and the breaking of form. Form is great until it doesn’t fit any more. A prison. Onibaba. Five brings the gift of knowing that every form will be tested and finally broken. It’s divine justice demanding that we conform to it.
Five of pentacles is stubborn. Scarcity. Starvation. Loneliness and illness. Can’t underestimate these, or say they’re illusory, when they’re so obviously not. Physical forms are the most frightening to break. They’re tied up with our survival.
Great. So I feel strong and bold. I can see past the exigencies of material form. Bravely I open my umbrella. Excellent. So now how do I get it out?