Druid day 5 . Inner Perfectionist to Fiji

Posted on March 21, 2007 by wendy fleet

Ask Dr. Druid . Day 5
Inner Perfectionist to Fiji

This piece will read best for you

if you read it with your mouth as if out loud
[Ask Dr. Druid is designed to begin at the beginning. Click here.]

Outsight will give you insight. Train your brain. The faceting and polishing of consciousness is infinitely interesting.

A principle of teaching is to chunk stuff down into pleasantly accomplishable pieces so you/I/any learner can have a lot of successes to build upon. Why then am I seemingly fiendishly going to give you a practice tomorrow at which you/I/any learner are guaranteed to spectacularly fail? How can something at which you’ll always fail be such a grail?

Well, we’ll see about that tomorrow. Today I’m giving you a key tool so you can fail in glee. I’m asking that for these 66 days & nights of our druid apprentice adventure, you send your Inner Perfectionist off to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Fiji to chill out and drink mai tais. Actually the mai tai of Fiji is grog. So please send your Inner Perfectionist off to Fiji to lounge about gazing at soaring palm trees doing a gentle hula against sapphire skies, guzzling grog.

The deal is that on day 67, your refreshed Inner Perfectionist can return if it can agree to be cheerfull and encouraging at all times. If it doesn’t whisper sweet somethings into your inner ear, “Well done! you clever learner. You know more today than yesterday. You know more this minute than last minute” — fire that Inner Perfectionist and hire a jollier one.

If, on the rare chance post-Fiji, it continues to carp and snipe and play the Guilt Card, fire that Inner Perfectionist and hire a better one.

You can always remind it slyly that if it were really Perfect, it could arrange for you to have a delightful time — fun! — while you learn anything.

A note here on the complete uselessness of guilt. Guilt is implanted in children by parents, churches, society. It’s damn handy for control. The implication is that you’ll commit immitigable evil without this dog collar, spikes inward, to restrain you. This is balderdash. Quit guilt as cold turkey as you would quit smoking. Guilt only slows down learning. The learning Zone is guilt free. You should indeed have one single lightning flash of clarity and insight about how inelegant, stupid, foolish whatever action or inaction was in order to grok it. Being oblivious ain’t the point. But after you’ve seen it, simply do it better next time.

After the initial flash of insight, guilt is merely a self-indulgent wallow in more self-absorption.

So, remind your Inner Perfectionist to teleport off to Fiji for hula and grog, leaving lighter and more giddy you to have a delectable day.

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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;

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Please put ‘agent’ in the subject line.

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8 Flint . Edznab . Knife . North . tzol 138 03.21.07 wed

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the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead ..

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Ask Dr. Druid . Day 4 .Ing-ing

Posted on March 14, 2007 by wendy fleet

Ask Dr. Druid . Day 4
Ing-Ing

This piece will grok better for you if you read it
with your mouth as if out loud.
[Ask Dr. Druid is designed to begin at the beginning. Click here.]

Jolly Ing is one of the few elves left in the <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />New World. You didn’t know there’d ever been any? Well, perhaps you don’t quite know it all after all? Ha. Ha.

Jolly’s brother, Chortle Ing, Esq., Chort, for short, is known far and wide for dancing, romancing, and chancing.

You have that dubious rational look I hate. Yes, I’ve met them myself or I wouldn’t be telling you this tale. They are my zards. Zards are a cross between wizards and bards who teach a lucky few the astonishing joys of Ing. Jolly Ing is 4' 8″ tall, not as portly as Chort, but a stout fellow nonetheless. His face is a glossy beardless chocolate hue, his eyes a dappled forest-glade hazel, his hair as russet as a robin’s breast.

The Ing are a guild of gerund folk who teach that all that exists, from a stone to a clown juggling four balls and a dinner plate, is a verb, nouns being only a convenience of language, not truth. It’s all alive, living, throbbing. I spell this out to appease your Rational Dubious Self. The Ings explain little and show much.

To decide whether I was enough fun to be apprenticed, fluid and druid enough of mind, I had to spend days ing-ing. I had to put i-n-g on every word I thought and said. I-ing am-ing eating chocolat-ing for-ing breakfast-ing. Verb think. More rightly put: verbing thinking.

As much as we might wish for a break, wish to just stand still, we can not. Living is an irrevocable process-ing. The sea ceaselessly sloshes. There is no way out, however persistently we pout. Y’may as well swim.

You feel panic when you first learn the verbing lesson. The wild energy of life blows through you like a hurricane. Jolly Ing taught me how to get into the eye of my own hurricane, to feel the energy but not get blown over. After awhile the energy gets savory and comforting–just as you cannot stop, you also cannot in fact get stuck. You may, and many do, become brilliant at sequential stubbornness and serial sulks, but you actually have to work at it, it is not the universe’s natural modus operandi.

Chortle showed me many of noun think’s evils, or stupid sadnesses as he called them. No plurals or collective nouns actually exist. No plurals or collective nouns actually exist. There are no giraffes — only one giraffe + one giraffe + one giraffe. There are no gooks, no men, no women, no ethnic blurs. Ah, betrayed again by my beloved language. In truth, we must consider each one, one at a time.

Jolly said that language is a splendid and useful tool as long as we do not imagine that it displays the truth. Here he would say to me slyly, poking me annoyingly in the ribs, “How fast you forget, my little turtle dove,” his hazel eyes glinting like a splash of sun off a pool in a forest glade, “Not truth, but true-ing!” He would guffaw. Chort, of course, would chortle. The Ings are certainly bloody exasperating. They did show me though how to feel the heartbeat in each living thing, its pulse, its scent, its flavor. They introduced me to the companionship of the whole world.

It was at first daunting. Heeded, every thing had a story to tell. The world positively chatted, gossiped, jabbered at me. Undrugged by anything but air, I was drunk with stunning sensation, poetic overload. It also all writhed which was shall we say disconcerting. Jolly taught me to steady the writhing to a pleasing shimmer or radiance and to turn the cacophony tuneful. “Blink,” he’d say. Apparently the poets who go mad, stare — forget to blink.

Afraid perhaps that the glory will go away, is a trick, a ruse, a lie. The Big Lie. They try Religion, drugs, drink, anything to pry open the Door to Wonder. Jolly likes to say, “I am a lert–being a lert is all that’s necessary. A lerting.”
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Notes:

As you traverse from a narrower, self-absorbed quantum level of energy to consistently more complex levels of energy, you will have to manage the abun-dance of new and often mischievous energy. As you weave a greater outsight with your insight, you'll have to adjust to running on a higher octane of perception. Say hurray and press on, regardless.
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More Notes: I recommend re-reading Ing-ing once a week as we go along. It will always unfold new delights for you. As you open your 3^rd, 4^th, and 5^th eyes, as it were, the layers of this cake of a story will become more apparent to you.
//I worked with a guy who used enormous quartz crystals and led lights and music. Above the middle of each of his eyebrows you could clearly see the striking development of these 4th & 5th eyes. Of course it sounds bizarre, but we're used to telescopes and microscopes now which would have seemed bizarre and magical to the earlier studiers of realities. People who train and define and refine their exquisite, portable necktop computers oughtn't be trashed until you've tried training, defining, refining.
//My drug of choice is air because I prefer my chemicals to work at my whim rather than have myself at the beck & call of the various tyrannies of the chemicals. Not to say that you couldn't impudently declare that I'm at the whim of 73% dark chocolate, Fage yogurt, Santa Cruz Dark Roast organic peanut butter, Grace Bros Pugliese, and 10 cups of organic darjeeling a day.

//title image, piece of thiebaud lollipops.

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If you know or are an agent, editor, publisher person who would handle this kind of pogblogian material, please let me know at .. askdrdruid@gmail.com. Please put ‘agent’ in the subject line.

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It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. You may comment anonymously or sign in with a handle.

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Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

blog title image is a piece of andy goldsworthy

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:
http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

email: askdrdruid@gmail.com

1 Monkey . Chuen . Raccoon . West . tzol 131 03.14.07 wed

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mozart..9.77g /7mb

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Dr. Druid . Days 2 & 3 . Clues; manypoem place

Posted on March 5, 2007 by wendy fleet

Ask Dr. Druid . Days 2 + 3
Treasure Hunt: clues
This piece will grok better for you if you read it
with your mouth as if out loud.

[Ask Dr. Druid is designed to begin at the beginning. Click here.]

Underlying all of our 66-day adventure is the notion of the treasure hunt. As you practice your turning attention into fascination, everyanything could be a clue. One word and one 30 seconds changed my life utterly. You have to be deftly alert.

In our pursuit of happiness – untarnishable, portable riches, riches you can take with you — we’ll be learning, like breathing, how to learn, how to unclench the mind, how to be willing to be in kindergarten.

So, today, set yourself the general fond task of recognizing that you are in a treasure hunt, that there will always be clues left for you — often in the most unexpected places.

The way I personify the cosmicomic script writers who are writing the Jeegoo, the Vuravura, the Earth play is to recognize Fat E who is often belligerent, moody, cataclysmically bizarre and fascinating. She out-soap-operas any mere mortal imagination. She is exquisite and tasteless at once. My particular cosmipal I dub The Blue, Le Bleu, El Azul. He sends me presents out of the blue. Once I got on to this treasure hunt trick, the clues and the presents were abundant. The Blue is silly and darkly funny.

You’ll find your own strange lifefellows. I can only recommend that you go idiosyncratic. If you rely on the stale-ish archetypes that the Religions invented, you’ll get some amplification from the psychic rut that history has worn by hordes and herds of believers, but you’ll lose the tender and terrifying immediacy of your own cosmic pal.

As to Fat E, she belongs to us all. One of the psyche mistakes many big Religions made was to separate God and the Devil, leaving us all to be secretly profoundly baffled by how ghastly things can get. Could God do that?! And then we have to twist our minds to justify the ways of a rotten God to man. Fat E is clearly mad and brilliant, both beyond comprehension.

Anyhow, put on your treasure-hunt glasses. Break a leg.

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Notes:

‘everyanything’ is from ee cummings;

‘Break a leg’ is the honored, backhanded way to wish luck to superstitious actors who quaver if you wish them luck directly.

Jeegoo & Vuravura are other names for Earth.

Some people have called Fat E, Fate.

One word & one 30 seconds changed my life utterly, butterly, otterly.

‘Justify the ways of God to man’ is Milton & Housman.

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Day 3 .. manypoem place

[Ask Dr. Druid is designed to begin at the beginning. Click here.]

On our treasure hunt, it is handy to have poetry eyes. Some people say we live in a universe. I have found where we dwell to be a multiverse. Multi-verse = many-poem. I like to call our multiverse the many-poem-place. Manypoem fits for the artist’s eyes of attention you’ll develop. So, one of your treasure hunt tools is your poetry eyes. You begin to notice the staggering art through which you walk. As you transform your perception self, manypoem’s artistry surrounds and astounds you.

Remember again today to be eclectic, choosing the best from all possible sources. The more you admire, the more treasures you’ll discover. One of the mistakes a lot of my next-age friends make is to prefer nature over man’s works. In addition, say, to being enchanted by gold-bellied finches, I myself am also devoted to ‘hard roads,’ for instance. I grew up about 10 miles of dirt roads out of town on a dairy farm. In January and February the roads turned to red-clay swamp glue. We were all thrilled when the hard roads came in and our cows’ milk didn’t spoil because we were trapped behind road moats of deep sucking mud.

Watch out for the prejudice to the pretty. You may prefer the pretty, even suffer from a sentimental, creeping normanrockwellism, but you can be fascinated by the revolting as well. Bon voyage.

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Notes:

image from andy goldsworthy, rowan;

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It’s an honor to have you visit pogblog. Do comment.

…………….<^>……………..

Check pogblog’s Glossary for brave & nefarious words.

blog title image is a piece of andy goldsworthy

Please send pogblog’s link to your friends:
http://pogblog.blogharbor.com

email: askdrdruid@gmail.com

4 Alligator . Imix . Turtle . East . tzol 121 03.04.07 sun

ffwofw1201§9641/1367, 26d12h14m11s34.41g;

mozart..9.77g /7mb

the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..

.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead ..

………….<^>…………….