hubbabubballoo

it's tuesday morning and i'm still in bed. i had made some plans for myself, to be productive, but i don't feel like accomplishing any of them. productivity has been best realized at work. now that i have none, i can rest. 

you know, i used to write constantly. a year ago for example. i wrote one poem a day. sometimes two. i haven't written anything in months. i think i was more depressed then. passionate and depressed. and haunted by thought. i guess i needed to write images out of them all. i take more pictures when i am content. and subdued. maybe i was working less?

my boyfriend told me a parable about the precarious role of the mind a few days ago. it's a good one. about an old man that is given a powerful gift by a divine source. the gift is a giant. the giant is equipped to perform any task desired by the old man. (i guess he is weak and needs a hand around the house.) but there is a catch. the giant needs to be kept busy at all times because if he has nothing to do he will eat the old man. (hmm? conundrum.) so the old man gets started. 'giant, clean up my kitchen and living room.' in no-time-flat the surfaces are sparkling. 'uh? giant, tend to the garden.' in seconds the giant returns wiping soil from his hands. 'giant, do my laundry and then fetch groceries from the next town.' again, the giant is finished in a flash. the old man thinks to himself, 'hell, this giant looks hungry.' 

the old man prays to his god for advice on how to manage his potentially man-eating giant. 'god, how do i keep his quick hands busy so he will not have time to eat me?' his god tells him to ask the giant to fetch the biggest tree that he can find. the old man obeys. before he knows it a massive tree is towering above his cottage. again he prays to god for further instruction. his prayer is answered. 'giant, climb to the top of the tree. as soon as you are at the top of the tree climb back down. as soon as you are at the bottom climb up. rinse and repeat...'.

the giant obeys. the old man can't be eaten now.

after some time a dizzy and tearful giant approaches the old man. 'old man, i promise i won't eat you, just please, please don't make me climb that tree ever again!' quickly a compromise is struck. the giant and old man coexist functionally ever-after. 

okay, what does it mean? we are the old man and our minds are the giant. sure our minds are powerful and endlessly useful, but left uncontrolled they threaten to swallow whole our entire being. what is the tree? in the original parable the tree represents breath, a means of controlling our minds. 'inhale pink, exhale blue;' 'ohm,' that sort of thing. i'm sure that outside the confines of the original allegory, the tree can mean other things. like meditation for example, or creative writing. 

i am trying to better find my tree.

recommended reading for seekers of the tree:

'the power of now,' eckhardt tolle

'the artist's way,' julia cameron

'way of the peaceful warrior,' dan millman