Bloody Martian Full Moon,
how my body aligns with you this day.
I am not who I was
as I bleedeth away.
Been experiencing creative compulsion lately. Must be the
energy of Mars in Gemini (action in words, assertive communication, active formulation
etc). Been experiencing philosophy as the art of expression.
Interesting that after ovulating around the New Moon this
cycle, my intensive bleeding coincides with the Full Moon (today), which like
Mars also is in Gemini. Which means that the Sun is in Sagittarius, the sign
said to favour philosophy per se. I'm very much in tune again with the fact
that philosophy is my passion.
It is clear to me now, that the philosophical path of
passion was inevitably going to lead to the serious study of yoga. Out of ancient
India has sprung the highest* "thinking" (for, in Yoga and Vipassana
"doing" is key), as well as the most intricate, straight-forward and
profound no-bullshit philosophy impacting the entire world. One embedded in the
very body that serves as the vessel for existential experiencing. *(high/haute
(French) = challenging = requiring great effort consistently and singular focus,
complete absorption, samadhi)
My philosophical passion, amongst other things (such as
artistic expression and joie de move**), seems to also have inevitably led to
the study of haute dance, i.e. ballet, as well as martial arts, i.e. kung fu.
Of course, these disciplines all have ancient wisdom embedded in their
continuous movement practices carrying on for centuries and millennia to this
very day. I'll get into that on another occasion. **(joy of moving; joie de
vivre = joy of living)
For the very body is scripture and its language is movement.
In playing movement archaeology, I’ve stumbled upon the body’s ability to
reveal ancient wisdom, of human and even sub-cellular living dating back eons. Wisdom
ropedancing on timeless, immeasurable existential spirals.
Jump at your leisure onto the carrousels and roller coasters
that have no beginning and no end! Welcome to the Nexistential Carnival!
While playing movement archaeology, I’ve thought about
ancient Greece and ancient Egypt. I think about classical "Western"
philosophy and wonder how it may have been experienced on a daily basis. Were there
schools with baths and gyms for physical philosophy practice, not merely mental
activity, study, dialogue and debate?
I've felt-thought*** about classical sculptures, Hellenistic
art, for example. And not only those, but sculptures throughout the centuries.
They can reveal so much about the practical philosophers and existential
artists of those days. Profound ordinary individuals unnamed with an
extraordinary devotion to training, to exploring the very tangible physical and
mental creative extents of the human form, and the countless possibilities for
existing as the complex convolution of tentacles that is the human gown. Always
extending and contracting, reaching, searching, tracking. ***(feel-think = a
sensation beyond the fleeting notion of a mere thought, but a more organic
all-encompassing sensation felt also in the flesh, organs and bones etc)
Yes, ordinary people exercising practical philosophy and
spiritual devotion to the physical, to the art of perception, to conscious
co-creation and artistic expression. Ordinary people dedicated to philosophically
refining the physical and redefining what it means to exist in human terms. I
think for example of
Those with the athletic prowess
to pose
for hours,
days, weeks, months
for a sculptor
to carve
human prose.
And the first philosopher was who? The one lonely
micro-organic creature to reach for something beyond its cave of individual
existence towards an unknown knowing of another. And in merging together two
create the light of exploration into the creative complexities of countless
possibilities and multiple realities of what we've come to identify as
"life". For there is only life in co-existing, inter-being, isn't
there? Individuality, singularity and isolation are playful fallacies.
Years ago, while living in Switzerland, I had reached a
level in my training that made me feel empowered on my bloodiest day. I was moving
through an intense Tae Bo class, bleeding through the tampon and filling up
every corner of the thick pad. I could smell blood mixed with the sweat
dripping from my pores and soaking up my clothes. I didn't feel embarrassed nor
ashamed. Perhaps a little self-conscious about the people closest to me and the
trainer walking by, wondering whether they, too, might sense the iron scent of
fresh, raw blood. Mostly though, I felt empowered, alive, fierce and
unstoppable.
I haven't reached that point in my training yet. Will I ever
again? I wonder. Maybe when I've packed some serious muscle mass and regained
full strength particularly in my mid-section. Which took a brutal beating
birthing baby number three and her larger-than-life pregnancy. It's been just
over six years since this inevitably traumatic experience with lasting
repercussions. Sophia weighed 4.5 kg, was unable to turn her head, and came out
face down, like a turtle, with her shoulders and body ripping through the birth
canal and bumping into all that surrounds it. I quit working out due to injury
and other life-changing circumstances. Focused mainly on motherhood. Reclaiming
my body has been slow – Sophia breast-fed for 3 years. But over time, I believe
I can regain full force. And better than ever before because I've never trained
like this (consciously, curiously, ancestrally). Body-mind work has acquired an entirely new dimension since I
seriously began studying yoga almost two years ago. It's reverberated into the
way I learn ballet. And the martial arts component has opened another intense
door of human experiencing and body-mind analysis. It's a hell of climb to be
sure. Interrupted by the duties of motherhood, the responsibilities of being a
member of society and the limitations of an aging body.
But hey, Sisyphus (Greek mythology) never gave up either now
did he? And he managed to cheat death. Actually though, that was the reason he
was condemned to push a boulder up a hill for all eternity – in hell, nonetheless.
Just as Sisyphus would reach the top, the boulder would roll back down, and he would
have to start all over again. He was punished with a perpetual grind. I’ve
experienced training in this Sisyphean way. Train and gain. Don't train, lose.
Perhaps over time with patience and persistence strengthening habits can be
formed and a longevity of effort achieved.
What do I have to lose anyway? Walking on the road of being human
is to die a little every day. I certainly die once every cycle when the blood
flows freely from my mortal body.
