[One of pure-heart] will be like a tree planted by streams of water, Which yields its fruit in its season And its leaf does not wither; And in whatever he does, he prospers. ~
Psalm 1:3
As the saying goes, "Where there is water, there is life. " Certainly, our physical life begins with us floating in the waters of the wombs of our mothers before our feet ever touch Earth's dry land. As I think about the struggle that we all must endure to remain in balance another proverb-- African in origin, I think-- comes to mind: "Where there is mud, there's water." I take this to mean that even in the messiest of situations there is the opportunity to grow. Before this can happen, though, we must point our divining rod into the direction of the Source. Set out on a sojourn to get to the
hammam, or better yet, the Great Stream. The place where the soul thirsty for purification and rebirth can go to be cleansed. This is one of the reasons that the idea of
river baptisms, especially ones of the old south, are beautiful to me. (It made me happy to learn that one of my relatives, Aunt Ora Lee, proudly recalled being baptised in the Guadalupe River near Victoria, Texas.)
In any case, listening to the radio yesterday, I heard a Jewish-Canadian
neuroscientist and author named
Esther Sternberg speaking about her book
The Balance Within: The Science Connecting Health and Emotions. The main idea that she brought forward was that at some point there was a break between the once-unified domains of science and spirituality and that the people of today are slowly accepting that the split can (and must) be mended. Her outlook could not be compactly fit into the New Age category; instead her philosophy sounded as if it were inclined toward
osteopathy.
Another of the profound, yet simple things she said was that in ancient times, healing temples or sanctuaries were usually built beside fresh water sources with sloping banks. The slope made it so that people who were too ill to immerse themselves could be eased in with the help of others. A beautiful vision. During her interview Dr.
Sternberg spoke often of
Asklepios, the Greek god of healing (known in Egypt as
Imhotep, to whom temples were dedicated in Memphis, on the west bank of the Nile River.) During the writing of her book and the healing of her body from painful arthritis, Dr.
Sternberg said that she visited Greece. One of the things she did while there was visit one of
Asklepios' shrines.
She did not imply that the water in and of itself had any magical properties. Simply, the idea was that something unexplainable happened-- an awareness sparked or epiphany occurred. A
Jungian kind of thing, I suppose. As a result, she was able to access a power that helped move her toward healing. (Another resonant point that she mentioned was that there is a center of the brain reserved for the meditative, read: hypnotic or trance, state. This made me think of
Eknath Eswaran continually pointing out the importance of the personal mantra)
As I type, another image comes to mind is that of the master teacher
Yeshua/
Issa/Jesus taking a moment during his secret Passover feast to bathe the feet of his disciples. Most of the time we think of this gesture as being a lesson in selfless service, humility. Could He also have been saying, "There's more where this came from." In the same way that he was but a small sample (the Son) drawn from the vast Source (the great Mother-Father), the small bowl of water that He used to perform His act of outward purification was a sample of the guaranteed mind-body-spirit healing available to the disciples
if they continued to walk along what Buddhists refer to as the Enlightened Path or The Way?
Check out this link to part of the Metropolitan Museum's transcribed lecture series; this one takes a look at Christianity's First Centuries in Africa and features work from one of my favorite photographers, Chester Higgins.
For lots of people in lots of places, giving a baby a good name is as essential as getting good prenatal care. And so, my "bone memory" told me that I had to pick a powerful name for my son.
One of the many books currently competing for space amidst the papers, baby toys and whatnot beside my bed is I'm Every Woman: Remixed Stories of Marriage, Motherhood and Work by Lonnae O'Neal Parker.
As always, many thoughts and a number of significant happenings, yet I haven't posted a thing since the fall.
Yesterday while driving and running errands I was listening to News and Notes on one of the NPR stations and heard an interview with a man named Van Jones who works with the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights in Cali's Bay Area. His interview centered around a Green Collar Jobs bill that he and some others are working to push through Congress. If accepted, it will allot money to teach the poor/working class about environmentalism and train the people to work in the "green" jobs sector. He raised some really interesting points about the feasibility of the idea and the way that companies are choosing to send the majority of manual labor, blue collar jobs (once avenues that people of color took to escape poverty) to various overseas countries. Since green collar jobs are being phased out and there is such a push for all things "organic," "sustainable" and "eco-friendly"-- especially on the West Coast of the U.S. -- green jobs can occupy the place that blue collar jobs once did.
Latina magazine recently had a sidebar about a young entrepreneur named Kerry Clarkson Valdivia who commissions Peruvian cobblers to bring to make her line of shoes ideas.
"Colors of Music" by Nacera Guerin
Above image from www.barmatours.com.bt 
