Homeward Bound

I was just watching on youTube a discussion about what song they should play as a duet and the song that popped into my head is Homeward Bound. I pulled a tarot card for an idea for a topic that I should write on tonight and the card that came up was the five of cups. The one I used to call the spilt milk card. The card in most versions shows a man sorrowing over three spilt cups, ignoring the two that are still upright.  To me it normally  carries the meaning that one gets caught up in the samsara , and forgetting that what happens to us day to day and our reactions to it tend to be illusory.  This seems especially true when dealing with family whom one has grown up with and now returns to see. So often, we get caught up in the illusion that people stay the same and that we deal with the same people we have known, Parents, siblings, cousins. We may feel that we have grown as people but fall into interacting with our family members in the same old way, falling into the same patterns. Then very often we feel a sense of loss as if any personal growth or direction does not get honoured. What we don’t realize may be that we ourselves in our interactions aren’t honouring either the changes and accomplishments that we have made or that of our family members. You can even call this syndrome “How can I recognize the divinity in each person when my cousin or brother-in-law (for example) pushes my buttons. Then we beat ourselves up over the fact that we do not reveal our own growth and maybe we haven’t come that far. The truth is we have and it is just being tested a bit. No one can destroy experience. It is still there, there is just more that is necessary.. We just need to relax into it a bit.

The Road to Shamballa

Have come across the idea in several works of fiction recently of rchetypal city whose shadowed reflections are known to us as every city everywhere. I bring this up because one aspect of fiction that I have enjoyed over the years is how meaningful concepts embedded in our collective consciousness express themselves as art sometimes without the author or artist realizing their origin..

It gets passed off as “There is nothing new under the sun. Just new ways to present it, but certain stories which ring true will always find new expression as belief and knowledge in them has given them an existence beyond memory, an existence which one could say, they fight to keep.

These living archetypes have left their mark on us. Each new self-help book or concept that involves classifying people into different types is an echo of similar methods of classification practiced by older cultures People according to their natures as revealed by oracle become devotees (either priests or priestesses or perhaps wards) of different god forces. In a very real sense, they embody that archetype not to the exclusion of others, we each contain the universe

Archetypal forces express themselves in our culture in various ways. In how we view the heavens, In how we name our days and months. Even in how we classify things such as diseases, foods and plants. Each generation of children are brought up with stories of young heroes who go on quests aided by wise men and fools, encountering strange beings along the way only to find themselves reaching adulthood and vanquishing the foes of their youth. The Story as I’ve said before endures.