January 1, 2010
Storynight in the storyhut – a mythic structure and transporter all by itself – bundled around the fire, full moon blue shadows on the canvas walls dancing with the yellow-orange flame flickers inside, singing home our ancestors and honoring the elements which nurture all life. . . intergenerational. . .listening raptly, wrapped intently by drum beat carrying the river of images into bone, into belly. . .feeding the story with our insights, epiphanies, ponderings. . .oh my. . .what is better than that for the human soul? Creation myths from around the world, oh my. . .Making something from nothing and the sacrifice of that which we hold dear to create a broader, deeper, more integral order of being.
Can we embrace the sacrifices we are being asked to make as humans today . . .to co-evolve a more meaningful human wholeness and to support continued life on the planet?
Sacrifice in our modern urban world tends to be rejected as something with which we don’t want to associate, as if it’s bad. . . too painful, too messy, destroying happiness, beauty and youth. No wonder we avoid sacrifice with definitions like this one from Websters’: to suffer loss of, give up, renounce, injure, or destroy especially for an ideal, belief or end.
Yet haven’t we been taught the end justifies the means? What if the end was the ideal of an environmentally sustainable, spiritually fulfilling, socially just world? . . .the belief that humans might actually love living with and for each other, that they might participate fully, not just spectate, in the creative juice coursing through life itself. What if we humans remembered that there is nothing like ecstasy to revivify our love of living? What if the ego could relax its stranglehold on our psyches and find its role as a helpmate to spirit and side-by for the soul? What if we remembered that happiness is feeling embodied and in touch with the constant flow of this energy called living, a process not a product?
What do we need to sacrifice in order to experience living like that?. . .