Things are happening! This is the time of change you have been waiting for. Keep up with it. In your own way support it and supplement it with your own changes. Even incremental change matters. Just look around you at the way nature is changing every day, the hint of spring in the air, the buds that dare to form, the nesting birds, the return of that which was so deeply asleep waking up now. Wake up too, for these are the changing times. Plant a seed of change within the self and nurture it through all the phases of growth. That’s how to change, one small step at a time. And put some energy into it too! The whole universe is supporting you!
An eager workshop attendee once asked the Nagual, Carlos Castaneda, “Should we recapitulate what’s happening right now?” Carlos hesitated, then said softly, “Not yet,” with no further explanation. I knew in that moment that Carlos was saying that the luster of the myth we were all participating in would fade once recapitulated. He wanted us to enjoy the energy we were in for just a while longer. Isn’t that what we all seek when we fall in love, to enjoy the energy of it just a little while longer?
The truth is that once we have sat upon the immovable spot, as we sit beneath the Bodhi tree of our recapitulation, the energy and allure of the old illusions are released from our newly enlightened selves. We are freed from the terror, longing, and both negative and positive beliefs of old energetic attachments. We are able to walk out of the myths that once governed our lives into whole new worlds of possibility, real worlds of possibility.
Carl Jung recognized that all lives embody a core myth. If we look around to the cast of characters we were born into and the formative events of our lives, we can begin to identify the myth we were born into. Perhaps it’s our karmic challenge to solve a problem that has held us in check for eons. How could it be possible to be freed to new life if we have not cracked the nut of an old problem—our mythical nemesis? There is no escape from an unsolved problem; we continue to meet it everywhere. If we are convinced that we are unlovable, no amount of attention will convince us otherwise. If we are to be loved, we must first free ourselves of our attachment to the myth of the ugly duckling.
This requires recapitulation. We must be able to be present to all the truths to free ourselves from the myth we have been captivated by. Those truths might include that the mythic giants who conceived of us in this life were, indeed, quite flawed mortals without a clue. We’re all equals now, outside the myth of familial promise in the nursery; equal beings who are going to die; equal beings trying to crack the mystery of our myths, seeking new—real—adult life.
The violent, unrefined destructive energies of new life are boiling beneath the surface of spring. Birth is an aggressive, violent process—let’s bust any romantic myth to the contrary right now. The energies of earth quake beneath the surface, the intensities of storm surround us. Right now, at spring’s awakening, we all sit upon the immovable spot.
If there is to be new life, the rigid ground of myths that no longer channel life must be cracked. New life promises Abundance, the 3 of Cups, the first Tarot card that I pulled on the first day of spring as I contemplated writing this blog. However, the rigid structures, the myths we have clung to, must be sacrificed, the Hanged Man, the second card I pulled. We must allow our ego attachments, the myths we cling to, to be busted by the living waters rushing beneath the surface. Like a crucified being, we must sit upon the immovable spot of recapitulation that will allow the truths to set us free to new life. To achieve this we must allow for clear and truthful communication, The Magus, the third card I pulled, the winged messenger of Mercury, to deliver the truth clearly, to allow the Rites of Spring to be performed, busting through the old myths, bringing new life in abundance.
I love this time of year, the end of winter, the first signs of spring. The birds are fast returning. We have bluebirds checking out the nesting boxes. The geese have been flying south, their travels etched across the sky in long arching Vs. We’ve noticed that the vultures are back too. Where they go during the coldest months I have no idea, but they are noticeably absent in the dead of winter. The daffodils are poking through the ground. The first chickweed is growing close to the house where we get the most sun. The deer that have overnighted in the woods at the back of the house all winter have moved on. We’ve sighted our neighborhood foxes, ready to start the mating process again. We expect to soon see baby foxes playing about as we do every year. And we’ve smelled skunk, a sure sign of spring!
In the dead of winter I began laying out bread crumbs for the birds, only occasionally. I didn’t want to start a new habit after spending so much time breaking myself of the old habits of a lifetime. I noticed that the crows were always the first to arrive. They’d take what they wanted and then the jays would arrive for second pickings. After that, the brave little juncos came and so on down the line. After about an hour there was generally nothing left.
I started to hear the crows calling at about 6:30 every morning, sometimes earlier. “Where’s our bread, Jan!” they seemed to be saying. “We’re hungry!” And so a little guilt crept in; now I felt I had to feed them. I knew our yard was only one stop on their daily rounds through the neighborhood, but I saw that they liked punctuality and that they actually depended on the meagre crumbs I put out. It was exactly what I was trying to avoid—being predictable. But these sentinels of nature, ever watchful, would not let me be so aimless and irresponsible. And so they call me out each morning, very loudly commanding that I contribute to their welfare, that I meet their demands.
We don’t actually eat much bread, so on days when none is available I scrounge through the fridge and pantry looking for something that might appeal. I refuse to buy commercial birdseed, with its chemicals and corporate intent. I believe in recycling. The other day I put out some sweet potato fries. “Thumbs up!” the birds said. “YUM!” Then I put out some stale tortilla chips. “Thumbs down. YUCK!” they said, and the pile of yellow corn chips lies there still. I’m sure that the Jehovah’s Witness who stopped by the other day and stuck a flyer in the door wondered just what that pile of chips—organic too—was doing there!
My observations of nature during winter lead me to write this blog today. I’ve noticed how beneath the snow there is vibrant life, energy gathering for the moment of emergence. When the time is right, the tulips and daffodils poke through the frozen ground, the wild onions pop up, and the first wild garlic-mustard turns toward the morning light. I was thrilled the other day to see just these signs of life as the snow finally melted in our yard. It got me to thinking about us, how the human condition is much like nature.
We too have lots of things inside us struggling to emerge, secrets waiting to reveal themselves, beauty waiting to blossom, desires waiting to be lived, repressed memories waiting for the right moment to be known. We too hold back until the time is right. Can I dare to be the person I truly am? Must I wait another season before I finally give myself permission to do this or that? How long can I hold back that which is stirring inside me?
Nature doesn’t think. Nature acts. Nature doesn’t hold back. Nature is in constant flux and change. Nature is constantly transforming even when we think it’s dead, in the dead of winter, frozen and covered in snow. So is our physical body like nature, constantly changing and transforming. Our cells slough off and regrow, our organs totally regenerate every few years, some quicker than that. We aren’t even aware of how like nature our bodies are. Without thought we are like the seasons.
There’s another part of us that lies inside the physical body, our spirit, and even deeper than that lies our soul. Inside this vehicle we call our body these two parts of who we truly are, our ancient reincarnated selves, lie waiting. More deeply hidden from our awareness than even the mysterious workings of our physical bodies, these parts go along with us as we face the world each day and go about our lives. But these are the parts of us that are like the crows calling, asking us to attend to them, urging us to become predictable and reliable sources of nurturance. “Wake up and feed us!” they say. These are the parts that lie below the frozen surface and wait for the warmth of spring. These are the parts that when we are ready will pop up and take us forward on new journeys of transformation and change, in both our inner and our outer world.
In recapitulation, these are the parts that emerge alongside our memories. These are the parts that lead us down the paths of memory and retrieval of self. These are the parts that teach us that we are all the same, that we are all beings of love and compassion. These are the parts that at some point in our spiritual evolution must become the most important aspects of being human. When we are ready we will know them more fully. When we are ready our own springtime will arrive. Until then, I suggest tossing a few morsels of sustenance, a few hellos, a few nods of recognition. “I know you’re there, I’ll be back someday soon.”
It’s okay to wait, but be aware that until the time is right for these parts to emerge and inform us of what we must learn about ourselves, preparations are underway. We may already have received many knocks at the door, asking us to venture deeper into our physical bodies and discover what’s there. We may have already been invited deep inside, gone down to our roots. We may have already gotten to our core issues and our core reasons for living this life we live now. We may have already done a recapitulation or be in the midst of doing it.
The real key to being human is that we are not really like nature at all. We have the ability to think, to reason, and to explore our inner world. We have parts inside us asking us to work with them, to make something happen that will transform us. We have free will, the freedom to learn how to enact our own transformation so we can be different, so we can live our lives in a new unpredictable way, yet fully in alignment with our true spirit and soul nature.
And so, even if it may appear to be quite impossible that we could ever change our circumstances, we really do have the ability to choose how we want to live. We can choose to live as if it were springtime all the time. In fact, I believe this is what our spirit and our soul ask of us, to always be connected to them, to know them in the deepest way.
They ask us to not forget that they are what make us who we are, make us human, for they are the energy behind our human physical body. They ask us to be aware when the snows come, to be ready to thaw the ground and let our flowers blossom in spite of it. They are like the crows calling us to responsible tenure, to attend to these most important aspects of our human condition. It is here, in our spirit and soul selves being allowed to live, that we will truly evolve.
We will know when the time is right to answer the knocks on the door, either in this lifetime or another, but eventually we will all have to answer. We will all have to feed the crows of recapitulation, the spirit connectors that come asking us if we are ready yet.
Today the crows got bread! And my spirit and soul? They got to express themselves in this blog.
From the heart and soul of me, I wish you well,