Take Heart [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Young Arthur pulled a sword from a stone. He was a boy and his feat was something none of the strong men could achieve. He didn’t know it was an impossible task. His brother needed a sword; he saw one and he pulled it from the rock. An act of generosity. It was the sign: this boy had the character and destiny to be king.

I’ve read that long ago people believed the heart was the seat of the soul. It was thought to be good luck or a positive omen to find a heart shape in rock. A sign of love-on-the-way or an impending soul connection. A symbol that, even when darkness reigned, anything was possible. Light was available. In our home it is still considered good luck to find a heart shaped rock or a heart shape in a rock. We see them everywhere.

A heart-shaped stone is much different than a heart-made-of-stone. A heart of stone implies a lack of empathy. Indifference and/or cruelty.

In this time of spiraling chaos, when madness and sadism hold the reins and those in power gleefully sell the greater good for personal gain, I am daily struck by the wisdom of our guiding stories. The symbols and stories that give us guiding light to follow are available. A score of brutes tried unsuccessfully to pull the sword from the stone. They knew that the person who pulled the sword from the stone would become king. They wanted power. Arthur had no idea or thought of personal gain.. He was a scrawny kid, a squire with a good heart. The sword in the stone was a way for him to possibly help his brother. His pure heart made him king.

I stared at the heart, nature’s etching in the stone. I closed my eyes and hoped that it was, indeed, a sign. Purer hearts are coming. Soon a squire will step forward and with a heart of generosity, he or she will pull the sword from the stone.

“Take heart,” I thought, as Kerri took a photo, “Soul is on the way.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HEART STONE

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Enter Happiness [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

The day brought to mind Avalon, the mythical island hidden from sight by the spells of the wise women who rule there or perhaps by charms cast by King Arthur’s sister, Morgaine. It is where Arthur was taken after he was gravely wounded in battle. To heal or to die. It depends on which version of the legend that you read. As I watched her take the picture I wondered if Avalon could pop-up off the coast of Lake Michigan. If it can be spelled and disappear from sight it certainly can be spelled to appear wherever Morgaine chooses. Magic is magic. Possibility is open-ended until doubt or belief renders it otherwise.

While I was studying the photo, pondering what I might write, Kerri played a song by John Denver. I didn’t recognize it and looked over her shoulder. It was the last song he wrote before he died. Yellowstone (Coming Home). He did not know it would be his last song. He had no expectation of dying on the day his plane dropped from the sky into the ocean. I have sometimes wondered what would be my last painting or the final piece I might write. In my imagining, I always know. “This is the last,” I think and set down my brush, one more step in preparing to enter the mist.

I read somewhere that the real key to happiness is to lose your self-importance. It’s counter-intuitive in a culture that identifies through individual achievement. Climbing the ladder. Top dog. Happiness as a by-product of achievement and possession. Yet, it seems simple if you think about it. Happiness, not as an acquisition but as as an aspect of presence. Happiness enters when we are present in our moment and, in order to actually be present in the moment, the eyes and heart and mind need to let go of the desire to be other places, future or past. Happiness finds us when enough is truly enough and everything else, all the imagined importance, the yearning and the lack, disappear into the fog of time’s illusion.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FOG

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