Gate 4: “What we expected and did not receive”

RECORDING, QUOTES AND POEMS FOR 12/4/22 TALK AND DISCUSSION:

“Grief for what we expected and did not receive.”

LINK TO RECORDING OF TALK AND DISCUSSION

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1b10CGeW-XXs1uCXwo99Dtl_i_hYR-3TU/view?usp=sharing

Francis Weller:
“It was the expectation of holding space for us within family, community, culture.”

“Collective failure to adequately welcome our people into this world.”

“A permanent chronic echo of something I knew should be there.”

“It can be hard to see this loss. And often it doesn’t register as a loss but feels like a failure, like I did something wrong. I’m not good enough, not deserving. It is not a personal failure but a symptom of wider loss.”

“We are missing a connected, intact, living culture.”

Michael Ventura:
“You are not one person, you are many people, you are a community of moods and selves under one name. Parts of you aren’t even human, they’re part mammal, part reptile, part rose, part moon, part wind. And life is a question of which parts are dominant—which, in effect, possess you. (I think most people walk around possessed by the dullest parts of themselves; this, the worst state of possession, is called “normal.”

Rainer Maria Rilke:
“Ah, not to be cut off,
not through the slightest partition
shut out from the law of the stars.
The inner—what is it?
if not intensified sky,
hurled through with birds and deep
with the winds of homecoming.”

Sigmund Freud
“In this way the ego detaches itself from the external world. It is more correct to say: Originally the ego includes everything, later it detaches from itself the external world. The ego-feeling we are aware of now is thus only a shrunken vestige of a far more extensive feeling – a feeling which embraced the universe and expressed an inseparable connection of the ego with the external world.”

William Stafford:

Watching the Jet Planes Dive

We must go back and find a trail on the ground
back of the forest and mountain on the slow land;
we must begin to circle on the intricate sod.
By such wild beginnings without help we may find
the small trail on through the buffalo-bean vines.

We must go back with noses and the palms of our hands,
and climb over the map in far places, everywhere,
and lie down whenever there is doubt and sleep there.
If roads are unconnected we must make a path,
no matter how far it is, or how lowly we arrive.

We must find something forgotten by everyone alive,
and make some fabulous gesture when the sun goes down
as they do by custom in little Mexico towns
where they crawl for some ritual up a rocky steep.
The jet planes dive; we must travel on our knees.

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