Ask Dr. Druid . Day 31 . fegg

Ask Dr. Druid . Day 31



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    Fegg. F[aberge]egg. Fegg. Simple, splendid, extravagant, delicious, reverent, jeweled. Fegg. It is seeing and tasting that richness in the little world that is fegg. One of the Earth Decorator's most fegg is, of course, the hummingbird, an outrageous jeweled miniature envied on all planets of all stars. “Ah, Madame Deco,” an offworld Designer would sigh, hardly concealing stark envy, “How did you do it!?” Planet Designers are a good lot on the whole in spite of their universally being riddled with admiration twinned with envy. It's just that when you see something unbearably well done–the concept, the craft, the flash, the diligence, it haunts the heart with gratitude that it has been done–and envy that you didn't think of it first. Gratitude and applause minutely outweigh envy.
    It is no accident that having a clear sense of beauty, style, and fittingness is called ‘taste.' Fegg is the unpretentious exhilarating quintessence of taste. The eclectic rollicking embrace of teleology–the appreciation of design.
    Remember that the rose bush lavished with luxurious blossom is but a fantastic conjuror's trick–dormant dirt, water, sun animated by a pinch of some damn good design–and presto: roses. Fegg. The real question is not how we can find reverence, but once we open-open our eyes, how we can avoid being paralyzed by awe?
     You would think that if a person woke from being a wraith in the twilight worlds to this technicolor extravaganza in which we dwell that that person would run around going WOW, GEE WHIZ. Somehow a lot of us got fegg-impaired. Forgot to surrender to delight
    The Faberge Imperial eggs (particularly the ones by Perchin) are fabulous, and the notion of fegg derives a portion of its charm from the pleasure that human artisans can be so deft. But the planet's Designer has simply strewn our path with marvels upon marvels, has all but stuffed riches down our throat like fat corn down the foie gras goose's gullet.
    Faberge eggs usually hinged open to reveal some remarkable surprise, a spray of milky white chalcedony windflowers in a basket made of platinum and tiny diamonds, for instance. When your eyes have been pried open-open, you wake in the morning, look sleepily out the window, and put your hand to your heart in amazement. You are living inside a magnificent Faberge egg and you yourself are the surprise. You have been placed here tenderly by the same Artists who designed the stars. Fegg indeed. Not only are you here in this ingenious astound, a fact so impossible as to be miraculous, but you work. You can dance or sing a song. You can somersault. Do.
    We are so bombarded by idiot doctrines which distract us from the simple sustainable radiance which is our birthright, that we forget that we’re a miraculous jewel set in a miraculous jewel. It's not just the big showy stuff like the exultant unbearable ocean or the wide wings of a hawk in the sapphire summer sky. It is the dainty spider who can walk upside down on the ceiling and the familiar grime around the kitchen light switch.
    You must start slowly because as you realize it is surprise within surprise, and the knowledge multiplies crescendoing, the jolt of electricity searing in your blood can terrify you. The churches neglected to mention that the ecstatic vision and sensation is at your own fingertips, eyetips, tonguetip, nosetip, eartips. Your body can stand this surging power. Your body is designed to run at many mega-feggs of raw radiance. If you haven't tampered with the mechanism by drink, drugs, or stupid doctrines, the body has all the necessary safety systems.
    You can get as high on air as you like. You were designed for awe and delight. You were given senses and sense to be a co-designer in this blooming magic world. You cannot over-fegg.



It doesn’t matter how many times your poetry eyes are opened-opened. When you re-connect with that daffodil, with that patch of splotched wall, you will be re-shocked. Every time. As you explore in GrokLand and FeggLand, you’ll keep being startled by new pearls of outsight. You’ll realize with your real eyes that you cannot be reverent, thrilled, giddy enoughenough.


Ask Dr. Druid, 66 Days from Lead to Gold, Secrets of  Alchemy You Can Use, a druid shaman’s playbook .. Intro; Prologue; Day 1; Days 2 & 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6; Day 7; Day 8; Day 9; Day 10; Day 11; Day 12; Day 13; Day 14; day 15 Review 2; Day 16; Day 17; Day 18; Day 19; Day 20; Day 21; Day 22; Day 23; Day 24; Day 25; Day 26; Day 27; Day 28; Day 29; Day 30; Day 31;


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6 thoughts on “Ask Dr. Druid . Day 31 . fegg

  1. Mmmmm….I like this Fegg thing, I just fear that there are too many folk loose who are dead set on scrambling the thing rather than admiring and honoring all of its wonders.

  2. These over-celestial Religions which tend to overtly insist or more subtly imply that this 'earthly experience' is 'gross,' is less 'higher,' less 'spiritual' make us fegg-impaired. Scramble our faculties for blazing devotion to the shocking daily experience.
    Druidry is all about being day and dream besotted without getting burned at the stake by the Nutters. Druids are all about sharing the tools, the insights and outsights for greater vividness, less tarnish. This is threatening, apparently, because there is no inherent hierarchy. Everyone & everything has some nifty little knowledge that one can discover with patience or ingenuity. IF one is eclectic. It may be a better way of cooking pancakes. As nifty in its own way as e=mc2. Ceaseless curiosity, experiment, and an unsettling eclecticism stoke astonishment. Unsettling in the sense of being willing to be unsettled.

  3. I just thought I'd tell you, pogblog, that I am definitely different after these thirty-one chapters. I pay so much more attention to everything around me. Before Ask Dr. Druid I really had no clue just how much more attention I could pay. I'm guessing I'm just at the beginning. I'm guessing that you have considerably more to surprise us with. Who could have guessed it would be so much fun to have this profound and important a change take place.

  4. Nope. No council of Bishops or any other pontificators. Personal acuity and the ability to encourage and share tools and tricks of seeing and being are the only hotshotedness. Cf the Navajo where no one can win a 'race' unless they bring the rest of the folk along. The fastest helps the slowest — then it counts.

  5. Esfera — hurray for you. I myself do not trust any instruction if it ain't fun, intriguing. Seriousness is an alarm for me which is why I never could 'get' Religion.
    As long as we are not utterly identical with any thing, we still got attention to pay.

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