High Hopes

We watched with amusement yesterday as our outdoor cat, Alex, carefully stalked this heron, who had decided to groom himself on one of our logs.  Herons are notoriously skittish, so, of course, as soon as Alex reached the end of that ramp the heron flapped his great wide wings and took off, squawking all the way in indignation. 

We have to assume that it was all a game for Alex; surely he knows the heron is too big for him!  But it makes me think of that song that was popular when I was a kid, High Hopes:

Once there was a silly ol' ram,
Thought he'd punch a hole in a dam;
No one could make that ram, scram,
He kept buttin' that dam

But he's got high hopes... he's got high hopes
He's got high apple pie in the sky hopes
So any time you're feeling bad
'Stead of feeling sad
Just remember that ram.
Oops there goes a billion kilowatt
Oops there goes a billion kilowatt
Oops there goes a billion kilowatt dam!

Reading of Mary Magdalene again this morning, I feel about as foolish as my cat: the esoteric ideals and imaginal worlds Bourgeault (and Mary) are describing seem as remote and impossible as the heron, and have an amazing gift for flying off out of reach just when I think I'm getting close.

But there are bits here and there which I find encouraging -- or at least comprehensible -- and the phrase that caught me this morning was this: "It is the chains of attraction and aversion, forged in the dominion of wrath, that bind us solidly to the gravitational field of this world."

This feels like another way in to the tension of opposites I was speaking of yesterday. As long as we continue judging -- "This is okay, this is not okay.  This is good, this is bad.  She is nice, he is not nice.  Your behavior is despicable, mine is not.  These people/clothes/activities/neighborhoods/politicians are admirable/attractive/desirable/worthy and those are not." -- we are dividing the world and ignoring its underlying unity. 

So I get that.  But what I can't see is how it could be possible to function without judging.  Now perhaps it's because I am, on the Myers-Briggs scale, an ENFJ, which means judging, making decisions, choosing, comes relatively easy for me.  And I know from watching family members who do NOT have that J at the end of their profiles that it's a bit trickier getting on in the world without that capacity.  It turns out to be surprisingly useful to be able to quickly assess  "That works for me, this doesn't."  Not only does it speed up shopping trips (!) but it also serves as a useful protective device -- I see warning signs in situations or people, and "just don't go there," which can save me lots of grief.

But isn't that exactly it -- if you're good at navigating this earthly life, aren't those exactly the skills that keep us rooted here and make it hard to imagine another way of being?  And couldn't it be true that the things I protect myself from might be the very things that could help give me a push toward a deeper understanding of oneness?

Ah-- but in looking at it that way, I'm judging again: this behavior works here, but fails there.  See how pervasive this tendency can be?

And so I think I will continue to emulate my cat: I will creep slowly -- very very slowly -- toward my goal, holding as steady as I can, knowing the high probability that just when I get within reach it will fly away -- again.  Because in that slow creeping I am learning balance, and focus; in keeping my eyes on the prize, I am finding a steadiness of purpose.  In working to escape those chains of attraction and aversion, and in tempering the wrath I feel when things don't go my way,  I can begin to at least imagine another way of being in the world.

And it's all good.