Unearthly Moods, Mute Allegories, Hidden Myths

The powerfully imaginative artist/illustrator, N.C. Wyeth had this to say about the depth of feeling he had for the natural world:

The universe towers in my mind a great overpowering mystery. The significance of the tinest speck of bark on the pine tree assumes the proportions of the infinite sky. My brain almost bursts with the effort to really appreciate the meaning of life.

In our case we will be enchanted by the bark of an Eastern White Cedar tree at Ravenseyrie

Andrew Wyeth, son of N.C. was equally passionate about expressing the emotion of nature, attempting to relay something "more" than a literal view of what he was seeing and feeling. About Andrew Wyeth's work, biographer Richard Meryman writes:

Even the surface realism of Wyeth's work is part of the secrecy, a form of concealment creating drama. In all areas of his life his interest is in atmospheres and tones, not the accuracy of facts. His real subjects are the secrets that only he has sensed and plumbed, personal meanings within metaphors and unearthly moods--mute allegories--hidden myths.

James Wyeth, son of Andrew, grandson of N.C. is equally gifted as a painter and reveals through his art the "larger than life" drama that vibrates behind even the simplest things. James H. Duff has written of James Wyeth's work:

Among his animal images, Portrait of Pig is certainly the best known. It may well stand as an emblem of the others. This is surely the archetypal sow, shown in great detail, nearly life size, and in her element. but at the same time, this is an individual, a careful portrait based on as much study as any of the artist's human portraits. "I get as involved with a sheep as I do a president of the United States," he says. The pride often visible in the people he paints is also a strong feature in his animals. And in them we see as much character, as much personality, perhaps, as it is possible to see in any animal that must be frozen in two dimensions and in time.

You might have guessed by now that to provide these brief glimpses into the motivating principles behind three generations of Wyeth art is intended to call your attention to the landscape and inhabitants of Ravenseyrie and punctuate the mythical aspects inhaled and exhaled by every element presiding in this place and time. Like these intense men, whose artistic outpouring was fueled by an appreciation for nature and its "great overpowering mystery", I find myself urged (sometimes feverishly so) to show, through my own art and writing that the universe is intelligently alive--with each aspect of its expression worthy of our attention, our reverence and our exaltations of thanksgiving.

Ciente (more ears for Eva)

It may be one of the great tragedies of the modern world that too few humans embrace "unearthly moods" and instead make every effort to insulate themselves from atmospheric vicissitudes. Likewise we have been culturally shaped to discount the wealth of information of "mute allegories" resonating among horses, trees and rocks, etc. And though we enjoy epic cinematic tales like Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, in our everyday habits we support the supercilious marginalization (or outright suppression) of the "hidden myths" present in the seemingly mundane aspects of nature.


When you live in the wilderness, when you dance out in a gale wind, when you engage in dialogues with primitive horses, when the slant of light in a darkened forest beckons like a crooked finger--all synthetic, "virtual" living falls away and you come to realize that parts of yourself embody the wind, the forest, the shapeliness of horses, and it all has mystical, mythical meaning.

Zorita and Segura

For myself, then, the images of long necked, convex headed, dark-faced striped horses, first chronicled in Paleolithic art, commented upon in medieval hunting texts and pictured in the work of d'Andrade swing like a pendulum from then to now, demonstrating that Altamiro and his family band here at Ravenseyrie, like living fossils, tell us that the wild zebro, the ancestral tarpan variant continues to survive. Along with their obvious primeval morphology, a definite intellectual capacity--expressed with rich directness-of-being and enhanced by their veritable rusticity--extends to me an invitation to experience a "time before time".


In his book, The Secret Teachings of Plants/The Intelligence of the Heart in the Direct Perception of Nature, Stephen Harrod Buhner writes:

You may find, as you walk on a certain piece of land, that a mood comes over you that you cannot escape. This may come not only from the living organisms of the place, the self-organized ecosystem itself, but also from something that happened there, some history of Man. For the historical events that have occurred before us remain in the land, interwoven with the soil, set in stone. And, if your heart-field is open, they will come into you as you walk.

As readers of this journal are by now well aware, peculiar flights of fancy are a way of life for me. While I do not think that that the quintessential Ebhardt Form III ancestral equine galloped over the very bluff that Altamiro and his family band now do and extended their friendship and willing service to ancient island dwellers leaving a memory infused in the landscape, I do find that the present convergence of these horses, this particular wilderness place and Kevin and myself has stimulated some curious thoughts and sensations. A concept posed in an earlier journal entry wondered, is it possible that these types of horses partnered with humans in ways that were mutually beneficial--a sort of "domestication" story that reads differently than the "capture, subdue and enslave" methods repeatedly published in books? The way Altamiro's herd has determined, of their own choosing, that they desire to engage with me in mutual learning experiences, completely at liberty in the big wide open sets one's mind to imagining some ancient men and women experienced the same thing and built meaningful relationships with wild horses that did not include eating them or coercing them into service by force.

Belina

By now I had hoped to have written an in depth essay demonstrating why I feel (as did d'Andrade, as do many others) that the Sorraia horse is not a domestic breed, but a remnant of an ancestral form of horse, however my research is still prompted to turn over obscure stones and I am a-ways off from feeling satisfied enough to put my layman's assumptions out there among the assumptions of published scholars. And here I've gone even further out on the fringe exploring convoluted notions of the possibility that ancient humans and horses could have come together within the context of friendship and mutuality!

I must blame (thank!) the "unearthly moods", "mute allegories" and "hidden myths" for such crazy-minded suppositions. Again, I will quote from Buhner's book:

The Greeks had a word for the heart's ability to perceive meaning from the world: 'aisthesis'. "In Aristotelian psychology," James Hillman notes, "the organ of aisthesis is the heart; passages from all the sense organs run to it; there the soul is 'set on fire.' Its thought is innately aesthetic and sensately linked with the world."

Aisthesis denotes the moment in which a flow of life force, imbued with communications, moves from one living organism to another. The word literally means "to breathe in." It is a taking in of the world, a taking in of soulful communications that arise from the living phenomena in that world...[ ]...this basic experience--this aisthesis--has been at the root of human relationship with the world since our evolutionary expression out of the Earth. We are built to experience it, to be aware that each thing possesses a unique identity, its own particular 'eachness'. We are made for the nature of each thing to pass into us through our hearts, which think about it, store memories about it, and engage in dialogue with it.

I can continue to give myself over to exploring the sensations and ideas that the wilderness landscape and primitive horses have strummed in to me via that great organ of perception--the heart, or I can quit these flights of fancy and plop myself down in a chair by the radio and listen to what new course of action the United States and Canada intends to take over in Afghanistan while being reminded that Christmas shopping is good for the economy.

Close your eyes...where do you suppose you will find me?

When I close my eyes, do you know what I see?--I see You, joining me out on the fringe, feeling your way in new territory as the hidden myth present in your own horses begins to reveal itself.

Like N.C. Wyeth said, "My brain almost bursts with the effort to really appreciate the meaning of life."

To Listen is to Hear

Annemiek commented on the journal entry titled, A Dialogue With the Universe, that she and her daughter, Jennifer, are reading a book together within which the main character is able to converse with plants and animals. Jennifer has not come into a place in her life where it seems impossible that humans can hear plants and animals talk and thankfully Annemiek isn't the type of mother to discourage such thinking, rather, Annemiek says, " I think instead of telling our kids that such things are nonsense, we should encourage them to listen."

I think Jennifer is very fortunate to have you for a mother, Annemiek! I was very moved by your comment and it made me desire to share some more thoughts on this subject.

It may seem that to say we humans are in constant dialogue with the universe, giving and receiving messages and having the capacity to communicate with plants, animals and the elements is an absolutely "Disneyesque", the pure fantasy of deluded child-minded individuals. Surely this is one perception held and well-guarded by many educated and non-educated people, but there are other opinions and scientific explorations that have found that the universe is indeed communicating with us.

In 1973, The Secret Life of Plants by Peter Tompkins and Christopher Bird was published by Harper & Row. On the back cover the preview for the books says this,

"Exploring the world of plants and their relation to mankind as revealed by the latest discoveries of scientists, The Secret Life of Plants includes remarkable information about plants as lie detectors and plants as ecological sentinels; it describes their ability to adapt to human wishes, their response to music, their curative powers, and their ability to communicate with man."

Here is a random sampling of some of the things I highlighted when I read the book:

"At the beginning of the twentieth century a gifted Viennese biologist with the Gallic name of Raoul Francé put forth the idea, shocking to contemporary natural philosophers, that the plants move their bodies as freely, easily, and gracefully as the most skilled animal or human, and that the only reason we don't appreciate the fact is that plants do so at a much slower pace than humans...Plants, says Francé, are capable of 'intent': they can stretch toward, or seek out, what they want in ways as mysterious as the most fantastic creations of romance."

I'm thinking just now of those intentful, beautifully-green shoots of grass already pushing up out of the ground while under three feet of snow. Are the grasses and the horses and me sharing the same intent, that of wanting the grass to grow again?

"Adults, according to Vogel, are much less successful than children, which leads him to surmise that many scientists are not going to be able to repeat his or Backster's experiments in laboratories. 'If they approach the experimentation in a mechanistic way,' says Vogel, 'and don't enter into mutual communication with their plants and treat them as friends, they will fail. It is essential to have an open mind that eliminates all preconceptions before beginning experiments.'"

Sentient rocks enchanted by the sun, last summer at Ravenseyrie

"Fechner introduced Nanna, or the Soul-Life of Plants with the concept that believing whether plants have a soul or not changes one's whole insight into nature. If man admitted to an omnipresent, all-knowing, and almighty god who bestowed animation on all things, then nothing in the world could be excluded from this munificence, neither plant nor stone nor crystal nor wave. Why would universal spirit, he asked, sit less firmly in nature than in human beings, and not be as much in command of nature's power as it is of human bodies?"

For myself, since childhood, it has always been so pleasant a thing to think that when I am out walking the land, the rocks, the grasses, the trees, the breeze brushing my face are all fellow beings equally observing me as I observe them--all of us appreciating the day as it has dawned, each with his and her own thoughts about this particular moment in time. I have never felt alone, probably because of this inexplicable belief in the "bestowed animation on all things" by the "Great Creator" or "Original Essence", or "God". This sense of being co-related to all that is around me has served to make me more mindful of my actions, my intentions and my internal dialogue, all which I believe are "viewed" and "read" by the creatures, plants and elements I share my world with.

The conscious plant people known as Boneset or Eupatorium perfoliatum, provide a favorite "ward off cold" remedy. Kevin and I are thankful to have Boneset growing on the beach at Ravenseyrie.

Luther Standing Bear has said: "From Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, there came a great unifying force that flowed in and through all things -- the flowers of the plains, blowing wind, rocks, trees, birds, animals -- and was the same force that had been breathed into the first man. Thus all things were Kindred, and were brought together by the same Great Mystery."

In his book, The Lost Language of Plants, Stephen Harrod Buhner outlines why it is possible for us to communicate with the world around us:

--At the center of all things is spirit. In other words, there is a central underlying unifying force in the Universe that is sacred.

--All matter is made from this substance. In other words, the sacred manifests itself in physical form.

--Because all matter is made from the sacred, all things possess a soul, a sacred intelligence or logos.

--Because human beings are generated out of this same substance it is possible for human beings to communicate with the soul or intelligence in plants and all other matter and for those intelligences to communicate with human beings.

--Human beings emerged later on Earth and are the offspring of the plants. Because we are their offspring, their children, plants will help us whenever we are in need if we ask them.

--Human beings were ignorant when they arrived here and the powers of Earth and the various intelligences in all things began to teach them how to be human. This is still true. It is not possible for new generations to become human without this communication or teaching from the natural world.

--Parts of Earth can manifest more or less sacredness, just like human beings. A human being can never know when some part of Earth might begin expressing deep levels of sacredness or begin talking to him. Therefore it is important to cultivate attentiveness of mind.

--Human beings are only one of the many life-forms of Earth, neither more or less important than the others. Failure to remember this can be catastrophic for individuals, nations, and peoples. The other life in the Universe can and will become vengeful if treated with disrespect by human beings.

"This outline," writes Buhner, "in a very rough way, represents, perhaps, the oldest epistemology of humankind and was present in most historical cultures on Earth."

This old-style study of knowledge and beliefs has surely been usurped almost worldwide by the technological revolution and mechanistic perception of the "what" and "how" and "why" of things. In thinking ourselves separate from the rest of things in the universe humans no longer cultivate a concept of mindfulness and respect, rather, many humans believe that they are superior to all else and therefore all else is here to be manipulated, altered, destroyed, etc. in service to mankind. (I don't see the race of humans being overall more happy and fulfilled for all the exploitation of nature we've perpetuated.)

There are those, however who have had experiences which show that we do not have to dominate nature in order to have our needs met. (Let's remember Imke Spilker and Alexander Nevzorov's discoveries that friendship and play and equal respect make for better relations with horses.) This dialogue with the universe is not something that only certain Native American or indigenous people believe in. Buhner writes, "Many scientists have remarked with surprise that Luther Burbank, George Washington Carver, and even the Nobel laureate Barbara McClintock all have said that it was the plants who told them what to do, who revealed their mysteries to them. The only requirement, they commented, was that they had to care for them, to treat them with respect, to have a feeling for the organism."

Eliot Cowan writes this in his book, Plant Spirit Medicine:

"The teachings of plants come in many forms. The spirit may give you a classroom-style lecture. If so, listen intently so as to remember every detail. More often the transmission comes in a non-verbal form. You may find yourself being swept into an exotic adventure. You may simply find that you experience intense emotions. In every case the key is to remain attentive. Once you ask your question, whatever happens is part of the answer."

Again and again, the impression made upon me by so many of these authors is that we humans are not separate from, nor superior to Nature, and that when we approach the things in nature with mindful attentiveness, humble hearts and open minds, we are greeted with helpful nurturing responses from forms of intelligence that seem absolutely appreciative of our finally cultivating a true "feeling" for them. It's this way with the horses and dogs and cats and geese at Ravenseyrie, and surely with all that surrounds us here.

I contrast this with some of the things Rudolf Steiner has written in his book, An Outline of Esoteric Science:

"Plants exist in a continuous state of sleep. If we do not judge these things accurately, it is easy to fall into the error of crediting plants with a consciousness similar to what animals and humans have in the waking state."

"The fourth element that supersensible cognition ascribes to our human makeup has nothing in common with the manifest work that surrounds us. It is what distinguishes us from our fellow creatures and makes us the crown of creation, of the created world that belongs to us at least temporarily."

"Falling into the error of ascribing memory to animals is even easier than ascribing consciousness to plants. It is natural to think of memory when a dog recognizes its owners after perhaps not having seen them for a long time. In reality, however, this recognition is not based on memory but on something totally different. The dog feels a certain attraction for its owners, which proceeds from their very being. This gives the dog pleasure when its owners are present. Each time they are again present after an absence, the dog's pleasure recurs. Memory, however, is only present when a being not only feels its experiences in the present but also retains those of the past. Even if we acknowledge this, we might still fall into the error of thinking that the dog remembers. We could say, for instance, that since the dog grieves when its owners leave, it retains a memory of them. This, too, is an incorrect assessment of the situation. Through sharing life with its owners, the dog comes to need their presence and thus feels their absence in the same what that it feels hunger. If we do not make such distinctions, life's true circumstances will not become clear to us."

If we make such distinctions, as these Steiner (and most other scientists) would have us make, we for sure will not be able to perceive the messages the universe desires us to hear. I suppose when it comes down to it, that which we chose to discern will determine that which will be revealed.

For myself, I find the cultivation of the perception that the universe is alive, conscious and appreciates a good dialogue with the humans (which are one manifestation of creation) is a perception that is filled with great beauty, and overflows with marvelous possibilities for learning--in addition to a sense of belonging, which keeps one from never feeling alone.

Quickly now to close, both Annemiek and Eva had questions about our marble statue of St. Melangell. Annemiek asked what she was leaning upon. It is an over-turned iron garden rake, Annemiek.
And Eva wondered what she was guarding there at the top of our stairs to the basement, and did we not think she might not appreciate being displayed outside. My mother-in-law kept this statue inside a small greenhouse. The statue is two separate pieces that fit together at the waist and portions here at this juncture, as well as down near her feet have a chalky, flakey quality to the stone...which makes me worry that she is not well made or properly finished for outdoor display. So she stands guard over the saddles and bridles which have grown dull and dusty from lack of use.

Besides, a slightly worn-away cement figure of Venus has claimed the north deck:
and on the west deck, another patron saint of animals, St. Francis, has taken up residence:

I'm on the lookout for just the right slightly-worn (meaning affordable!) statue that will fit nicely as guardian over my wilderness manege...and if I find one, it will have to be stout enough to withstand the rubbing a horse or mule or Whitetail deer might give it.

May each of us become more attentive--listening...so that we might hear the universe talking.

And There Were Others

Kevin and I eloped when we got married and in doing so we spared ourselves the worry of determining who to invite to the ceremony. As scatter-brained as I can be, I certainly would have forgotten to include individuals that should have been on the list. After posting yesterday's journal entry, it was as if suddenly I remembered I'd forgotten to invite Auntie Diane to the wedding!

There, of course, have been many amazing people who (whether through personal contact or through the study of their written works) have contributed to my journey with horses. Perhaps sometime I will write a piece that shares who these people were and how they came to influence me. For now, I was mostly keeping to the past five to seven years--and even within that narrow time frame I realize I left out several key players.

Interessdo and Shelagh consider nose to nose contact

How could I have not relayed to you my immense admiration for Carolyn Resnick? Astute reader's will recall that I've mentioned her in a post or two, and her blog link has been a consistent feature in the sidebar links of interest.

It is no idle comment to say that it was the inspiration from Carolyn's youthful experiences with making friends with wild horses that stimulated me to approach relations with my own "wildies" from a perspective that allows the horse complete freedom to choose whether she desires to be with me or not. I think it was here, in Carolyn's book, NAKED LIBERTY, that I first discovered there are horse people out in the world who do not coerce or impose their wills upon horses, but rather spend the time to develop a friendship with horses so that they desire to be with us and try new things we might ask of them.

Nevermind that I still have discomfort with certain elements in Carolyn's "Seven Waterhole Rituals", those that I do wholly embrace have been like keys into a magical realm...and really do, as she says, develop a magnetic heart connection between the horses and myself.

It was also through the inspiration Carolyn's book provided that prompted me to have a go at riding completely tack-less, which has created for me some of the best memories I've ever had with Mistral.

The venerable Mistral views his world through contented eyes

If you order Stormy May's dvd, you'll see some insightful footage of Carolyn "dancing" with horses. Within Carolyn's blog, you see that she is very forthright with her desire to share her way of being with horses and tirelessly works towards helping humans better understand horses.

Carolyn's website is here: http://dancewithhorses.com/

Carolyn's blog can be accessed here: http://www.carolynresnickblog.com/

Prior to Carolyn's work, I was certainly for some time quite captivated by Klaus Ferdinand Hempfling and his DANCES WITH HORSES book and videos. Kris McCormack worked diligently, just as she has done with Imke Spilker's book, to bring Klaus' work to English readers, and she followed up DANCES WITH HORSES with another of Klaus' books titled, WHAT HORSES REVEAL. (And did I mention that it was Kris who sent me a copy of NAKED LIBERTY along with a video of Carolyn's work? Kris has been hugely influential in my journey for many years...she deserves an entire entry herself!)

We meet Klaus again in Stormy May's documentary and HORSES FOR LIFE just recently ran a highly meaningful two part exclusive interview with him--both of which helped soften the rather cynical attitude I'd developed when I found certain elements of his work (as presented in the earlier books) off-putting in light of where I found myself moving forward with my interactions with horses.

Klaus' website is here: www.hempfling.com/

I still look through my books and dvds of this man's work...certain philosophical elements and some pretty lovely images continue to inspire me even now.

Zorita, puts on a grumpy face to suggest to Doll that she move out of her way

A quick bit here about some other authors who have caused me to think differently about what type of environment is best for horses and have served to consolidate for me my continual preference for the Natural world versus that which is scientific and man-made. There have been many authors whose work has contributed, but recently these three in particular have left their mark (and only one is a "horse" person).

--Jamie Jackson
--Masanobu Fukuoka
--Stephen H. Buhner

I'm not mentally prepared to expand upon these gentlemen but I will leave you with a lengthy quote to contemplate from Masanobu Fukuoka from his book THE NATURAL WAY OF FARMING:

A scientist who wishes to know Mt. Fuji will climb the mountain and examine the rocks and wildlife. After having conducted geological, biological, and meteorological research, he will conclude that he now has a full picture of Fuji. but if we were to ask whether it is the scientist who has spent his life studying the details of the mountain who knows it best, the answer would have to be no. When one seeks total understanding and comprehensive judgment, analytic research is instead a hindrance. If a lifetime of study leads to the conclusion that Fuji consists mostly of rocks and trees, then it would have been better not to have climbed it in the first place.

One can know Fuji by looking at it from afar. One must see it and yet not examine it, and in not examining it, know it.

Yet the scientist will think: "Well, gazing at Mt. Fuji from a distance is useful for knowing it abstractly and conceptually, but is no help in learning something about the actual features of the mountain. Even if we concede that analytic research is of no use in knowing and understanding the truth about Fuji, learning something about the trees and rocks on the mountain is not totally meaningless. And moreover, isn't the only way to learn something to go and examine it directly?"

To be sure, I can say that analyzing nature and appending to these observations one's conclusions is a meaningless exercise, but unless those who listen understand why this is worthless and unrelated to the truth, they will not be convinced.

What more can I say if, when I mention that the artist Hokusai who captured faraway images of Fuji in his paintings understood it better than those who climbed it and found it an ugly mountain, I am told that this is just a subjective difference, a mere difference in viewpoint or opinion.

The most common view is that one can best know the true nature of Fuji by both listening to the ecologist speak of his research on its fauna and flora and looking at the abstracted form of Fuji in Hokusai's paintings. But this is just like the hunter who chases two rabbits and catches none. Such a person neither climbs the mountain nor paints. Those who say Fuji is the same whether we look at it lying down or standing up, those who make use of discriminating knowledge, cannot grasp the truth of this mountain.

Without the whole, the parts are lost, and without the parts, there is no whole. Both lie within the same plane. The moment he distinguishes between the trees and rocks that form a part of the mountain and the mountain as a whole, man falls into a confusion from which he cannot easily escape. A problem exists from the moment man draws a distinction between partial, focused research and total, all-encompassing conclusions.

To know the real Fuji, one must look at the self in relation to Fuji rather than at the mountain itself. One must look at oneself and Fuji prior to the self-other dichotomy. When one's eyes are opened by forgetting the self and becoming one with Fuji, then one will know the true form of the mountain.

Though I am helped along by so many others through a variety of meaningful elements, it is in this manner Masanobu has shared with us that I now attempt to know the true horse.

Altamiro posing left, and right and looking pretty majestic and quietly confident...can he really only be three years old? He has such a sense of wisdom that projects from him!