Welcome to 2013, and to what might very well be one of the most pivotal, exciting and sometimes perhaps even downright terrifying years of our lives, if not in human history.

Everywhere, it seems, we are approaching a cliff or a wall. Due to the failure of its leaders to reach real compromise, the United States continues to teeter on the edge of a “fiscal cliff” that threatens the stability, not only of its own economy, but that of the rest of the world. Meanwhile, even greater and more chronic failures on the part of world leaders everywhere are carrying all of us towards even scarier cliffs – ecological and social cliffs. How much longer can we continue to defy the biophysical limits of our planet, or the limits of the growing ranks of the marginalised in our societies to tolerate injustice and inequality, before we tip over the edge? Often, it feels as though there is far too much momentum going in the wrong direction; the Great Turning will require far too wide a berth, and before the stern even begins to hint at an alternate course, it will be too late. To the exhausted and overwhelmed activist at the helm, the situation can at times feel titanically hopeless. 

And yet, it is not hopeless at all – and that it what is so exciting about the times we are living in! As author Anthony Weston declares in his inspiring book Mobilizing the Green Imagination: An Exuberant Manifesto, humankind has been drastically underutilising the enormous power of its collective imagination. Just think: everything that we now see in our human-created environment, from immensely complex cities to high-tech gadgetry to the words you are reading on this screen has its ultimate origin in the human imagination. Humanity has used the power of its imagination to transplant itself from its ancient cradle in southern Africa to now inhabit every climate on Earth, right down to the least hospitable; our imagination has even taken us to the moon.  

On the other side of this two-edged sword, one could say that our runaway imaginations are what got us into the messes we’re in now. 

But could we not instead put our imaginations to work in the other direction, that of radically re-imagining our relationships with the Earth and with each other? Charles Eisenstein speaks of graduating from the conception of Mother Earth to that of Lover Earth – maturing away from the childlike attitude that Mother Earth is there to provide for all of our needs in a unidirectional parent-child relationship of giving and taking, and embracing Lover Earth instead – the Earth as the cocreative partner of humanity, to whom we give back at least as much as we take, and give joyfully. What sparks of the imagination might be kindled in our lover’s eye, as we allow our love to guide us to the healing and regeneration of the wounds we have formerly inflicted? 

The only thing now in the way of such a new, mutual and fruitful relationship is the lack of imagination. 

Too often, environmentalists find themselves tinkering at the margins, trying to mitigate and preferably neutralise our harmful impact on the Earth: zero waste, zero carbon, zero footprint. What if, as Weston suggests, we were to fire up our imaginations a bit more and begin to imagine ways of doing things that do not merely have a neutral impact on the Earth, but a positive, regenerative impact on our planet? What if, far from becoming waste, every product we use were to end its lifecycle in a compost pile, yielding its nutrients to other useful, beautiful and/or tasty things? What if, instead of making our buildings energy self-sufficient, we designed them to produce a surplus of clean, renewable energy to share with others? What if, instead of contaminating water, our cities and households became like wetlands, cleaning the water that passes through them? What if, instead of building expensive dikes to protect our low-lying cities from the pretty much inevitable sea level rise, we began re-imagining those cities to, like Venice, embrace the encroaching waters? Richmond, the Venice of the Pacific, anyone? These are just a few of the ideas that Weston throws out there in Mobilizing the Green Imagination, hoping to provoke a few in our own fired-up imaginations. 

Now how is this, then, for a collective New Year’s resolution:

Having been spared the end of the world in 2012, let us embrace 2013 with a new lease on life! Let this be the year of letting go of the old stories, the old patterns, the old limits, and the embracing of a new story for humanity and the planet. Let us dust off our fantasies, pull our dreams out from under our beds, drag our shy imaginations away from the walls and out onto the dance floor. Let us awaken the Lover within, and scheme constantly of ways to give joy to Lover Earth, and to each other. Let us consciously, at every moment we can, kick up our exuberance levels at least a few notches.

Let 2013 be the Year of Remagination!

In the first part of this series I examined the sale of the painting “The Scream” by Edvard Munch in light of the ancient greek myth of the Minotaur. In this entry, we look to decode the myth in more depth, and look at the messages it offers us on how to navigate the world that for so many provokes no other response then a scream.

Ariadne, the daughter of King Minos, fell in love with the handsome Theseus the moment she saw him disembark from the boat that had brought the pitiful group of Athenian youths and maidens for the Minotaur. She found a way to talk with him, and declared that she would supply a means to help him back out of the labyrinth if he would promise to take her away from Crete with him and make her his wife. The pledge was given. Ariadne turned for help, then, to the crafty Daedalus, by whose art the labyrinth had been constructed and Ariadne’s mother enabled to give birth to its inhabitant. Daedalus simply presented her with a skein of linen thread, which the visiting hero might fix to the entrance and unwind as he went into the maze. It is, indeed, very little that we need! But lacking that, the adventure into the labyrinth is without hope.

If it is true that ‘little’ is indeed all we need for the journey, then discovering that small clue is imperative for all who undertake the labyrinth adventure (which is, eventually, all of us according to Campbell -whether we like it or not). If all the majority of modern individuals can hear is “the great scream in nature”, it is likely that they are unable to hear nature’s whispering messages indicating the direction in which our little clues can be found; An impossible task so long as we see our relationship with nature as adversarial rather then one of divine co-operation. In a lecture by the great zen master, D.T. Suzuki, he comments on this dilemmna: “God against Man.  Man against God.  Man against Nature.  Nature against man.  Nature against God.  God against nature–very funny religion!”

An important thing to remember is that Nature, like myth, is a metaphor that is transparent to transcendence. By learning to view and engage with Nature (as expressed through natural law) in more en-lightened way we begin see into the world behind the world; becoming co-creators in dancing the dream. We address a tree as a friend, the sun as a saviour, the flower as a lover. The forces of nature become somewhat personified so that an actual relationship is possible. We like to think of this as becoming intimate with our illusions; either we learn to play together with them, or submit to suffering from them.

Joseph Campbell illustrates this point when he says:

The ancient myths were designed to harmonize the mind and the body.  The mind can ramble off in strange ways and want things that the body does not want.  The myths and rites were means of putting the mind in accord with the body and the way of life in accord with the way that nature dictates.

Understanding and harmonizing with the archetypes of Nature (which transcends and includes human nature), as expressed through her laws, is the path towards understanding what Latin philosophers termed sumum bonnum - the principle of goodness in which all moral values are included or from which they are derived; the highest or supreme good. This is certainly one of the principle aims of Treeuth, as it appears to be the closest method by which we can obtain the clues needed for both our individual and societal evolution. The journey into the psyche is fraught with dead-ends, twisted turns, and halls of mirrors that require us to meet ourselves at each step of the way. We must formulate our own skein/klew of thread,  woven from direct knowledge, practices,  myths and stories, that support us on the hero’s journey through the labyrinth.

In the next part of this series, we mine the myth of the minotaur yet again to discover the illusions that we encounter and what the plight of the individual characters have to teach us.

Artwork from Entheos 2011 / Photo: dooq

“The Entheos Gathering community is shocked and deeply saddened by the tragic events that took place on the festival grounds on the morning of Sunday, June 24. Our thoughts are with the family and friends of Bradley Ross, wishing them peace and healing in this difficult time.” – official statement by Entheos Collective, following the death that occurred on site of the Entheos Gathering, 2012.

Bradley Dean Ross, 25, of Alberta was found stabbed in a tent Sunday morning at the Entheos festival.

In response to the grief and shock that reverberated from this loss, communities in and around Vancouver gathered on June 29, 2012 to create a space for members of the Entheos and other intentional festival members to heal, discuss, to give support, and to learn from the tragedy.

The Beaumont Studios is the venue for the evening, complete with astro-turf in the entrance and a multitude of mandala paintings hanging on nearly every wall of the entire studio. In the large main room the community gathers; few, scattered and wandering uneasily at first, to quickly form indistinguishable lumps of bodies resting on one another for support and solace.

A collective altar rests at the centre of room, where a bowl of water is placed to serve as a container to hold the grief that many may experience throughout the evening. Though there is much love emanating from all those gathered at this council, there is an apparent underlying elephant in the room reminding us all that we have been assembled under painful circumstances.

A prayer is first offered to the land where Entheos 0 was held, Sandy Pines Campground, to heal and dispel the negative forces. A secondary prayer is made in honour of Bradley, for his soul to be carried directly into the arms and heart of God, or the Divine. The sound of the drum-beat commences and the four directions are called into the space, marking the opening of the Entheos Post-Integration Council.

More community members trickle in and find their grounding, as we are introduced via Skype to the Victoria tribe, who are simultaneously holding their own council to undergo the same debrief process as Vancouver. On an adjacent screen is a community in Grand Prairie that has been affected by the loss of their friend, and on another are members of Bradley’s family that have also been invited to be part of the meeting.

A microphone is connected to amplify the Skyped-in groups, which also acts as a talking stick, of which Sobey Wing, co-founder of Tribal Harmonix, is its first holder. He poses the question: opening the floor for discussion on what lessons this community can learn from this event.

Those present at the council took turns sharing their thoughts, emotions, conclusions, lessons and offerings to the community. With the help of the talking stick/microphone, each person who wished to speak was given a chance to, and this process made up for the majority of the meeting, aside from song and meditation. Following are some of the messages that were shared, whom their originators will remain nameless.

1) The Need to Acknowledge and Ground Violence

The contrast between love and violence at the festival was felt in a very sudden and extremely polarized way, with very little transition time in between. This has shed insight into the quality and also the prevalence of violence; violence is a part of every community. Violence is a part of each of us as individuals, and a part of all of our lives.

Violence is a part of the human condition, and as humans, we are subject to it. We must absorb and accept violence, send it back to the collective consciousness, and ground the violence within and without. We must do this in order to release the separation that blinds us, and finally acknowledge our true selves as one.

2) To Heal Each Other

During the Entheos Gathering, we came into the Blue Hand Wavespell as per the Dreamspell Mayan Calendar. This Wavespell marks healing and transition, and this can be manifested as a recognition of the healers in this tribe. As Blue Hand cycles continues and closes–which is a helping hand–we can see this as an invitation to feel the pain of others, to support and heal one another.

The year of 2012 is advancing and gaining momentum, which will propel us to a high frequency, causing the lower frequencies to snap. By raising our consciousness in tune with one another, we can raise our frequencies, and emerge through as a stronger community. This event is product of society’s hurt. We can heal by simply looking in our eyes when we see each other, by being real and truly connecting together, by seeing and honouring one another.

3) Security

From an organizational standpoint, attention must be brought to the fact that security at Entheos was not sufficient. Security is the responsibility of the organizers, on whom the festival goes invest their trust. When organizing, awareness is paid to the entirety of the event; the organizer’s perspective is larger than the individual experience, recognizing that there are always multiple layers of every moment.

An act of senseless violence can take place at any time. There is a huge need for a stricter security container, as well as an ownership of our character as individuals. This is an opportunity for us to step in our power, and to own our security. We must not take these gatherings for granted, for there are many places in the world where gathering in this way is impossible–these festivals are a privilege.

4) Authenthic expression of trauma

We must allow ourselves authentic expression, by vocalizing, writing, through physical movement, or by any medium that speaks to our creativity. The importance lies in not censoring ourselves, and we must surround ourselves in a supportive environment–we will only release when we feel it is safe to do so. Vulnerability shows true strength and only love will melt our armours, we must take realization of where our closures and barriers to love are.

There is a huge need to facilitate our emotions on all spectrums, not only joy, bliss or happiness as is most often felt at festivals; we must also express our suffering, pain and grief in a constructive way. However deep this pain and loss may feel for some, let us acknowledge the speed at which we are healing and have transitioned out of trauma.

This rapid transition could only have happened from the outpouring of love that has been taking place, from our compassion, our care, and also our willingness to move forward. May we feel pride for this community, and dare ourselves to imagine what we can create with all the love and beauty that is clearly held within it.

5) Move beyond drugs

The need to move away from chemical drugs, and instead be pure, sober and present, is becoming inherent. There is much talk of creating a new community, of emerging as a new society and building a new paradigm or reality, however we must do our work to get there.

Integrating the lessons and messages that have been shared during this council is crucial; these truths must become a part of our daily lives in order for us to shift forward in a huge way. Does this community have the courage to dedicate energy to being, acting, and walking the talk? There are many indigenous communities that have an intact, deeply rooted and ancient spirituality and culture, that are dying today.

If we are going act and hold space in a spiritual way, it is not be done lightly and just for fun. A place to start is expanding the Vancouver tribe outside the city and closer to nature, and to strengthen our networks as a community, we can utilize each others’ gifts and talents instead of relying of the monetary cash system, which would allow us to save our pennies to buy land and truly be the resilient community that is so often spoken about.

EDITOR’S NOTE – After a few comments below, Adelie offered this response:

I would first and foremost like to extend my gratitude to all those who have been contributing their comments, thoughts, feelings and concerns to this article, both on this website and on Facebook.
Articles are also written to raise awareness, facilitate consciousness and understanding, and to be used as platform for creating dialogue; they are only as useful as the individuals who take the time to read them.

Articles are also written to connect people to events that have taken place, and most importantly to transmit information on any subject to advance the general knowledge of the public. That being said, as a writer reporting in a journalistic style, it is my primary duty to simply act as channel to transmit what has happened at an event in order to provide cognizance to those who were not present. I merely played the role of a megaphone, to the best of ability, to amplify the voices of the community so that their powerful messages were heard beyond the circle that was held. The reason behind this gathering is significant to this culture on many levels, of which the integration is as important as its cause, and therefore merits equal attention on a public scale. I recognize that this is a sensitive issue, likely to cause many personal and emotional responses. However I do ask for your understanding that in no way is this article a critic, comment or attack; it is but a mosaic representing the many potent and important lessons learned and shared by various individuals in this community.

I feel blessed to have been able to share with the public the insight that was found – may these messages help elevate our collective understanding, healing and integration. Again, I thank you all so much for continuing this process with your comments, this is truly the aim of such an article.

Also, watch the complete talk from Dr. Lee Brown who compares the four rounds of the sweat lodge and the four years of the IILG. He advocates the unity of the human family and speaks to the indigenous prophecies as well.

For more info, visit IILG.

Zamir Dhanji relates his experience at the 4th annual International Indigenous Leadership Gathering in Lilloet, Canada.

We sit in silence in the pit-house, our eyes dancing with crackling flames as we await more offerings of tobacco, sweet grass and cedar, infused with prayers to be smoke-signaled to the spirit world.

For the last two nights of the 2012 International Indigenous Leadership Gathering, the pipe of the great Lakota warrior, Crazy Horse, has been the center of ceremony for those who wish to pray with this instrument of power. In the sweat lodge last night, the pourer mentioned that pipes were so valued by his people that he had seen new trucks traded for one. Sensing surprise, he said that most don’t understand the value a pipe; never having truly prayed with one in the proper way, its power remains unrevealed.

For the First Nations people, the pipe ceremony is a sacred ritual that connects the physical and spiritual worlds. “The pipe is a link between earth and sky, nothing is more sacred. The pipe is our prayers in physical form. Smoke becomes our words; it goes out, touches everything, and becomes part of all there is. The fire in the pipe is the same as fire in the sun, which is the source of life” writes White Deer of Autumn, a Native American writer, teacher and activist.

The pipe is also a symbol of the union of masculine and feminine energies. The stem, representing the directional energy of the masculine, flows into the bowl which represents the receptive energy of the feminine. White Deer of Autumn teaches that “when a stem and a bowl are disconnected, you have two sacred objects. When a stem and a bowl are connected, you have a living being.” The pipe is thus addressed as a living being worthy of the highest respect. A story tells that the pipe was one of the tools given to the First Nations by a holy woman known as White Buffalo Calf Woman, so life on Earth could be lived in a sacred way . It was a means to support our walk on earth as a living prayer, to bring together man and woman in a sacred way, and to remind us of our sacred relationship to all life.

The pipe ceremony is open to everyone in the gathering, taking place in an underground wooden structure, circular in shape with benches lining the outer rim and a fire in the center (called a pit-house). Each person is instructed on how to prepare themselves through prayer, how to hold this sacred pipe (it was not to be smoked), and how to circle the fire. The patience and generosity of the ceremony holders is humbling; allowing so many to learn, pray and participate in a sacred ceremony without feeling judged is more difficult than most think. By 7 am, almost everyone has left the pit-house, and there are just a few people left (mostly First Nations) when two chiefs enter to perform the closing ceremony and pack up the pipe so that it can continue on to it’s next location. The door is closed, and the gatekeeper is instructed to allow no one in until the ceremony is complete.

A knock on the door brings a man who insists that he is meant to be there, and that he comes bearing food for the fire. The food is taken but he is informed that no one is allowed to enter. After some protest and continuing claims that he was told by another chief that he was supposed to be here, the gate eased open to permit his shadowed form into the kiva. Once the closing ceremony begins, a few songs are sung, and we are handed tobacco to make our final prayers. The chief makes his verbal prayer, and asks if anyone wishes to say last words before the ceremony is closed.

At this time, the man who slipped in last minute steps forth with a burning presence. He is a large man with a heavy frame, over 6 feet tall, wearing a leather vest. He begins to shake, and speaks in a loud voice: “I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what to do. This vest was given to me by Mayan priest, and now the chief told me that I was meant to come here.” Growing in intensity, he says “I’ve served overseas, travelled to 130 countries, but now I am lost. I killed eight men in the war, three with my bear hands.” Breaking down now, he continues “I used to take 96 pills a day, I stopped 18 months ago, now I don’t Know what to do, the pain is so great.”

At this point the energy is very intense, no one knew what he would do but it was clear that some kind of intervention was needed. The two chiefs quickly move to him and bring him in front of the pipe, and have him look into the fire. They start instructing him to breathe, to let go of his pain, to release his darkness to the fire. They guide him with compassion and firmness, cutting the branch from under him so that he is forced to fly, but providing him with bursts of wind until his wings begin to work. They have him call on the creator for support, to know that he is not alone and to pray with strength.

One of the pipe guardians mentions that he can sense a blockage in his stomach region, and the chief begins to massage his sternum, moving his hands across his neck and drawing something invisible out of his mouth. He repeats this as another chief tells him of how he served four times overseas, losing many friends and having to pray for peace and forgiveness. The chief commands the crying man to find strength and to ask for forgiveness, to call in the light and move through his fears. The man is struggling against his demons, trying to follow the directions, some moments showing great courage, and other moments falling back into despair.

All of a sudden the struggle is over, and the man walks back to the outer ring of circle to collect himself. The chiefs pack the pipe into the box, shake hands with everyone and exit the kiva. As we do our rounds to shake hands with everyone, I come face to face with the man of the hour. As we locked eyes, I could see a conviction in him, and inner knowing that was almost noble. He tells me to always remember the creator, to focus on my path and not to stray left or right, knowing that the creator is always behind me. His grip is firm, his message clear, and I feel empowered.

As I leave the kiva, I know something significant has happened, but it’s only later on that I realize what occurred. A man who has been suffering from post traumatic stress disorder has come into a place of prayer, distraught and broken, and within 20 minutes is masterfully guided from a place of helplessness to a place of empowerment. Had he walked into a counseling office, this work would have taken countless sessions, many pills, and likely a trip to the psychiatric ward if things got out of hand. His race didn’t matter (they treated him like a brother), and rather than being held at arms length as someone with a mental illness, he was embraced as a soul who had forgot its true nature. In 20 minutes, this man had been moved from despair to love.

In my head I examined all the judgments I had been exposed to about the damaged condition of the First Nations people, how much help they needed, and the disintegration of their culture. What I witnessed was the opposite: I saw a Canadian war veteran who was mentally stricken, with no culture to turn to for support, helped by an empowered elder with a culture that can handle very difficult situations. While he still has a long healing journey ahead, this experience will certainly prove to be a watershed moment on that journey.

I realized that the First Nations people have developed a tremendous resiliency through the massive trials and tribulations they have undergone over the last 300 years. They are a testament to the maxim of “that which does not kill you only makes you stronger”‘ with the caveat that the proper healing, reflection and integration take place. In this time of cultural, social and economic disintegration, where loss of identity is endemic, the First Nations people may be the holders of some very important medicine.

The Chinese word for crisis is composed of two characters – “danger” and “opportunity”. The danger we now face as a modern civilization is presenting us with a rare opportunity to reconcile the ancient technologies of healing, community and ritual so that we can emerge from our crises with a strengthened, renewed sense of self. It is the indigenous wisdom keepers who are the modern torch bearers, the string carriers, as we enter into the labyrinth of darkness that has been woven around our selves and our society; if we are willing to trust them and ourselves, we might discover that the journey to the light is not as difficult and painful as imagined.

Children Protesting at Andrew Saxtons Office North Vancouver. June 13th, 2012

Democracy is when the indigent, and not the men of property, are the rulers.
-Aristotle”

In the last 18 months we have seen millions of people around the world stand up for what they believe in streets, parks and plazas around the world. In some countries the results have been fatal, up to 20,000 people have died in Syria alone since 2011, including 500 children. In Egypt, there were 846 people killed and over 6,000 injured in that uprising that successfully removed President Hosni Mubarak from power. While the millions on the streets mostly were peaceful, they were passionate and determined to see their demands met.

For the most part, in Canada, we feel far removed from this turmoil. Since the local authorities took down the Occupy camps last fall, the streets have remained mostly clean and clear, and life goes on for us essentially as it always has. Here in Vancouver we have a perfect bubble, seemingly impervious to the problems of the world. Real estate prices are high, unemployment is relatively low and except for the constant rain and clouds, life is ideal.

So why should anyone in Vancouver be concerned about this global chaos?

Well because it has come home to us! In an effort to shore up Canada’s economy against this global meltdown the Harper government has decided to sell Canada to the highest bidder on the open market. Essentially Canada has been sold out from under us all. If you have any doubts, note that PetroChina is to build the Great Pipeline to China and Harper already promised the global economic elite that the people of Canada and First Nations will not interfere with this agenda.

“We will make it a national priority to ensure we have the capacity to export our energy products beyond the United States and specifically to Asia,” he said. “In this regard, we will soon take action to ensure that major energy and mining projects are not subject to unnecessary regulatory delays—that is, delay merely for the sake of delay.”

–Steven Harper. World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland January 2012

Now unlike some, I would like to avoid demonizing Steven Harper, in his worldview, he is doing what he thinks will protect Canada. However if you think fracking the Sacred Headwaters, risking an oil spill into the most dangerous navigational region on earth  and turning Vancouver into a Oil Tanker Traffic Zone  is not in the interests of us in BC than you need to speak out and take action.

While these are just three local issues, the current Conservative budget, bill C-38, will strip our environmental protections, silence our environmental watchdogs, and damage our economy.

Taking a page from the playbook of G.W. Bush, the Harper government has suggested either you support the “economic development agenda” (read sell out) or you are against Canada. Consider how Canadian artist Franke James was blacklisted in a report that placed her environmental art alongside suicide bombers and the war in Libya.

View what the fuss was about -

So, what is a regular person to do? Tens of thousands of Canadians are signing online petitions and even more posting these issues on Facebook, Twitter, Blogs and elsewhere online. However we must ask ourselves – it that enough to change things? If you look historically at any successful social movements from the formation of labor unions, to the civil rights movement, they only achieved their goals though mass protests and civil disobedience.

In 1930 when Gandhi marched over 388 kilometers to make salt as a symbolic act against the British control of India it resulted in 60,000 protestors being arrested, and eventually forced the British government to negotiate with Gandhi in 1931. This protest has often been considered the turning point in Indian Independence Movement that led to its eventual success in 1947.

Right now in Montreal, we find protests taking place on the scale of what we have observed globally, with tens of thousands regularly on the streets. Although these protests started around tuition fees, many Montrealers joined once the provincial government made protesting and freedom of assembly (essentially) illegal.

Photograph by: Allen McInnis , Montreal Gazette

Yet, protests remain distasteful to most people here in Vancouver. Many think of them as groups of unkempt, drug using, people yelling and disrupting order in a way that the average person does not support. However, often they are family-friendly celebrations of freedom and hope, like the upcoming Vancouver Walk for Peace promises to be.

Also Lead Now has started a new type of strategic protest, directed at “changing the national conversation”. Listen to my interview with Jamie Bigger, Executive director of Lead Now to understand what they are doing and why.

In summary, regardless of what your opinion is, if you want your voice heard you must do 3 things:

1. Get informed on the issues that concern you, so you are educated and can understand the context and not get misled by those more informed than you are.
2. Connect with a project that gets you off your computer and into the real world.
3. Take Action. Only though the shared experience of working in physical proximity to others who share your dreams will you ever realize those dreams.

A true warrior is always armed with three things: the radiant sword of pacification; the mirror of bravery, wisdom, and friendship; and the precious jewel of enlightenment.

-Morihei Ueshiba. Founder of Aikido 

From whence does this anxiety borne out a sense of impending doom that suffuses this painting arise? What is the difference between those who are drowning in existential angst and those that are rising to the occasion with creative aspiration? In asking this question of myself, I was immediately drawn to the myth of the Minotaur as described in a “The Hero With a Thousand Faces”, an epic synthesis of mythological motifs by the late mythologist Joseph Campbell. He paints the circumstance with such eloquence that I will quote him liberally throughout this post. His surmise of the situation:

“The multitude of men and women choose the less adventurous way of the comparatively unconscious civic and tribal routines. But these seekers, too, are saved—by virtue of the inherited symbolic aids of society, the rites of passage, the grace-yielding sacraments, given to mankind of old by the redeemers and handed down through millenniums. It is only those who know neither an inner call nor an outer doctrine whose plight truly is desperate; that is to say, most of us today, in this labyrinth without and within the heart. “

 The Scream represents that majority Campbell is referring to, who are bereft of the symbolic aids necessary to navigate the labyrinth both within and without the heart. His use of the word courage, defined as :the power or quality of dealing with or facing danger, fear, pain, etc, is directly linked his assertion that the terrain to be traversed lies within the heart (the word comes from old french word for heart: cuer). Munch’s painting has captured, in its muted tones and horrific expression, the state of a soul who no longer feels – nor knows how to access – a source of courage required to face the danger, fear and pain that must repeatedly be faced on the human journey. Campbell appeals to the mythical character Adriadne to provide a clue (from the greek word klew, synonymous with skein, both units for a spool of thread) to those desperate  ones who are largely unaware of the reason for their plight:

“Alas, where is the guide, that fond virgin, Ariadne, to supply the simple clue that will give us courage to face the Minotaur, and the means then to find our way to freedom when the monster has been met and slain?”

In the next part of this series, we will mine (pun intended) the myth of minotaur for priceless clues to help us understand the nature of the labyrinth, the characters involved, and the ways we can courageously move through it towards the promise of freedom.

True non-attachment is an intimacy with life. Buddhist teacher and yogi Michael Stone shares his perspective on how to live an engaged life.

More about Michael Stone

Michael Stone

Over the years, his goal has been to cultivate long-term relationships with people who want to deepen their understanding of Yoga and Buddhist teachings and practice. He also maintains a dedicated workshop and retreat schedule in communities in Canada and abroad. Michael is a father and lives in Toronto with his partner Carina Lof and his 9 year old son Arlyn. These days you can find him working on a documentary film called “Reactor,” a new book of the same title, teaching, and also giving talks at conferences and in community.

Visit http://centreofgravity.org

Stephen Jenkinson

Jenkinson, Ontario born and raised, went to Harvard to study Theology followed by the University of Toronto to study Social Work. As he puts it, he got hired into the “death-trade”, and for ten years worked in palliative care in Toronto’s hospital system discovering, “what people are truly afraid of when they’re dying”.

Today he lives in the Ottawa River Valley and mentors three to four large classes a year in village building.

His storytelling, often as ornately woven as his hand made clothing, is not easily packaged into one-liners designed to adorn my journal or to use as a quote in the next chapter of my book, although I’ve tried.

His art, is a rare and intact time capsule from when our peoples gathered around fires, sharing stories told late into the night, sometimes all night, and into the next day; a time when the storyteller was akin to the village shaman.

And so due to this, my sincerest efforts to recount his flaming bouquet-shaped rants, styled as answers, do not deliver quotable pieces per se. They don’t even comfortably bring me back to the foot of my questions. In fact, after spending time around the man, you may find yourself like I do, repeatedly deposited inside a spiral track carved by the wake of a much bigger story, wondering about how you got answers you didn’t even know there were questions for.

I asked him about the role of gifts. This piece rendered itself out from his mosaic response:

“…humans aren’t beauty eaters, they are beauty makers. Creation longs to be seen, through the singing and response, or the gesture that you make, or your willingness to dress up really nice so that there’s no such thing as work clothes anymore. I’m pretty sure that when the fields see you in your seven layers of home spun, hand-dyed wool, they say, “wow, we’ve got a live one here….

…rather than gifts, call them capacities to make beauty. What are they for? They are food for the world that gives you life. The world gives the village life, and the village gives you life so may as well feed the ones who gives it to you…

…other people’s pleasure, enjoyment, and well-being are all corollary for practicing what has been entrusted to you. But they are not the reason they’ve been given. If a person’s singing makes you feel like you shouldn’t sing, then the purpose has been lost. Your beauty is for who is on the receiving end, same as how we are on the
receiving end of the green and fecund fields…”

Later I asked him about community-building at this time in history, and he offered this caution:

“…loneliness is not the reason to start a village. Loneliness increases the longer you’re together. The reason you get married is not the reason you stay married. Being together does not extinguish the longing nor does it feed the desire to have your loneliness end. Your willingness to see another day and your willingness to live as though you may never see it, knowing that you, or the marriage, or the village may not live to see another day is the labour. The labour of village making doesn’t extinguish your longing. It’s the throne for your longing to sit upon. And that’s what I call grief…”

During our conversation, I discovered that Stephen’s teachings are not for the faint of heart and that, “being wrecked on schedule”, his way of saying “heartbroken” is an almost expected, if not desired eventuality for my certainty about life.

Here, in my community, the gifts and loneliness I’ve encountered have seemed rooted in an older story, one that we’ve inherited from our various personal and cultural ancestries. For those who do the work of coming together and, “feeding those who gave us life”, whether it’s through transition, eco, intentional, local, global, or other kinds of villages, it seems helpful, if not necessary to regain our capacity to gather around and remember both the written and unwritten from the days of our ancestral fires.

Stephen Jenkinson’s Orphan Wisdom School, whose name, I’ve discovered, is several years’ worth of teaching in itself, might just be a companion to this kind of remembering.

- Mia Kalef

Watch the trailer to Griefwalker:

To learn more about Stephen Jenkinson:
http://www.orphanwisdom.com

To attend Stephen’s teachings:
5-days on Cortes Island at Hollyhock August 5th-10th, 2012
Red Sand White Sand People, two year training begins in Deacon, ON August 15-19, 2012
and at Hollyhock Oct. 26th-31st, 2012.
http://www.orphanwisdom.com to register.

My experience of the march, and I hope what it conveys above, is simple joy. And most of all wonder. This mirrors the reports from Quebec, as shared in the sincere by scathing post “An Open Letter to English Media“:

If you do not live here, I wish I could properly convey to you what it feels like. It is magic. It starts quietly, a suggestion here and there, and it builds. Everybody on the street begins to smile. I get there, and we all—young and old, children and students and couples and retirees and workers and weird misfits and dogs and, well, neighbours—we all grin the widest grins you have ever seen while dancing around and making as much noise as possible. We are almost ecstatic with the joy of letting loose like this, of voicing our resistance to a government that seeks to silence us, and of being together like this.

There is a beauty that emerges when we learn and inspire each other, just as Quebec has done for the rest of Canada; when we speak to each other instead of through governments or the mainstream media. Here in Vancouver, we discovered what it means to make music together in the streets, in the rain, and you can see it on our faces.

Ethan Cox, also writing on the revolution, speaks clearly that this movement is about much more than tuition:

As this movement goes on, and grows by leaps and bounds, it is increasingly clear that it is not a movement of anger, of rage or of hate. It is a movement of love, of community and of hope. People who would be alone in their houses watching TV take to the streets and march with neighbors they never knew they had. Back when we had real communities, they were driven by the coming together of neighbors each night. Instead of watching TV, we met in the street, we exchanged details of our day and we made plans for our future. Just as the “casseroles” cause us to do now.

Perhaps the most lasting effect of this movement will be to build stronger, more connected communities. Every day that it goes on, more of us meet in the street, build relationships and talk about what kind of a society we want.

For me, there is a clear relationship between the Quebec Spring, the Occupy Movements, and all the social uprisings around the globe. They arise from the same source – the deep knowing that we have lost our way. We have forgotten how to live. And most importantly, we are starting to remember.