Since there has been so much in-fighting, bickering, gossip as well as rumor spreading, I refuse to join in from here on out. I’m human, and fallible yes. But it was my Mink spirit, and Wasp – who showed it all to me. I could keep falling into old holes – but taking a step back, and thinking prior – can show you the dark looking mirror before you peer through.
But I refuse to fall into old loop-holes. I went back through old notes, and I will try to learn from old wisdom I learned years ago. Couldn’t hurt, could it?
If you want to join in, re-blog and add your thoughts.. Bringing more wisdom and deep thinking back to the ‘craft of the wise,’ or those who tout themselves as ‘wise ones’ or not, from either end of the spectrum we can all learn, and deep thinking doesn’t hurt anyone on any path.
There are twelve that I will bring up here. You are free to have your own opinions, thoughts, and completely different trains of thought processes. The point here is to get everyone thinking again.
First one: The Bones are not mute.
I look at this one more than just physical bones. It is the bones of old relationships, the bones of old towns, the bones of old stories left silent…
The bones are never silent. There is still something to be in awe about, to think about, to remember, and to stare at wondering. Even if we can’t remember it clearly.
The ‘bones,’ we know of are too well known, how many of us have ‘skeletons,’ still in the closet?
These bones are not just the reddend-white vessels in ritual. They’re more than that. I take a moment now to reflect on how many ‘bone yards,’ I have in my own history. Sigh. The bones are not mute.
Then there are the physical bones. Those skulls and bone-bundles that remember, and working with them can be a challenge; a comedy and tragedy all in one. You hold those bones and can’t explain why you giggle, or sigh, or tear up. Those vessels we use in ritual, they speak too. The bones are not mute.
The bones of our society, our human natures that are so sun-bleached we can’t recognize what they came from originally. The unanswered questions, the old memories now rife with wind blowing through them – the wasteland of human thinking. The bones are not mute.
I take this bit of wisdom to take up the bones, and keep them at home until I remember. I will speak to them, breathe life back into them – to get them to speak again. The bones spoke once, and it’s never too late to speak to them again, because.. The bones are not mute.
Will any of you think you’d like to join in?