From Goddess in a Teapot:
Lately I have also been thinking of the many people, places, times, and stories that have, like the tree, spoken to a deeper part of me. Every once in awhile I will hear music or see a performance, or read a lifestory, or encounter a country or a historical era that grabs my spirit and will not let go until I have come to know it as thoroughly as I can. I don’t just experience it, but it sets off ideas, insights, determinations, creative flurries, and changes in attitudes to myself and my world view, sometimes for years at a time.
Many, many people and places are inspiring because of the beauty or artistry of their work or the courage of their deeds, but these muses are different. The connection to them or their work goes beyond a recognition of achievements or a desire to be like them, but rather they are in some way a gateway to the symbolic, otherworldly aspect of my life. There is something about them that shows that a piece of art isn’t simply a creative work, but the entrance to a cave brimming with treasured insights; a lifestory isn’t only a biography, but an allegory about all our life journeys; a country isn’t just a geographical boundary, but sometimes an entirely new universe and way of looking at the world. For a long time I wondered why muses show up in dreams so much more often than people I love and talk to everyday, and then I realized that it is because something about them speaks the language of the inner world.
From Aquila ka Hecate:
In Other News, I have surprisingly only just discovered that Breath can treat physical ailments.
Yes, I know, I'm slow.
The phlegm travelling down the back of my throat into my windpipe was causing me to bark furiously last night, and wake up the rest of the household, to boot. Slow and deep application of Breath, carrying the life essence into every cell of the physical body put not only the cough to sleep, but myself as well.
And, finally from Song!
The ancient song sings again and again, body, heart and soul. And cup and cross where for all the giving, love in those hours made the future, worth the loss. For what lies behind you, is always within you, and before you, so say the sages and lovers for all times.
To believe for a moment that there are no tomorrows of love, is to say the heart has its limits, the sky is a tent, and the sea is a pond with ragged humid shores.
Not your heart. Not your sky. Not your sea. No matter what you believe.
I would live a thousand lifetimes to say to you again and again. ”Life, you are”