The Further Enchanted Adventures of Thought and Feeling, Part II: Let’s Play

The Further Enchanted Adventures of
Thought and Feeling

Part II: Let’s Play

By Joseph Anthony

 

One day as
Thought and Feeling were sitting in the garden sipping their morning coffee,
they began debating about who was older. 

“Oh, I am
definitely older than you,” said Thought, “after all, the Creator spoke things
into existence, and words are thoughts expressed into language.”

“Yes,” said
Feeling, “but the Creatrix was the one moving on the face of the deep which
gave the Creator the inspiration to speak.”

Thought pondered
this for a long time and then said, “Yes, but the face of the deep was the
Creator’s mind, and so you could say, I am older.”

“I think the
Creatrix actually sung things into existence,” said Feeling, “and since music
came before speaking, then I’m older.”

“There’s no
proof music came before speaking.  No
dear, if you examine things rationally for just a moment, it only makes sense
that I am the older one.”

“Darling,”
said Feeling setting her coffee cup on the table and then rising to her feet.

“What is it
my Love?”

“Darling,”
she continued, “do you realize how mysterious the exchange we just had is?”

“Yes,” he
said, “I do.  We weren’t created.  We ARE the creators.”

“It’s funny,”
she said, “to make stories up about ourselves and to not realize they’re really
about us for so many years.”

“That is
kind of funny,” said Thought, “now why do you suppose we would do a thing like
that?”

“We like to
play,” said Feeling rubbing Thought’s shoulders.

“Yes!” said
Thought.

Feeling sat
back down and took a sip from her coffee and then smiled slyly.  “Let’s play some more.”

“Good idea,”
said Thought, “Let’s make up a story where you are the beginning and I am the
end and then let’s act that out for a few centuries and then switch parts.”

“Sounds
wonderful,” said Feeling clapping her hands.

And so
Thought and Feeling acted out stories that they made up as they went
along.  You can find detailed
transcriptions of their stories in the poetry, mythology, religion, and
psychology sections of your local library. 
Some of the stories were so inspiring that they were made into entire
histories and these can obviously be found in the history section.  A few of the more humorous ones are sprinkled
in the science section.  Some of their
stories changed over time to suit the particular bias of the teller and these
can be found in the fiction section, although we all know deep down that the
word “fiction” is a fiction, and is, in fact, actually related to an old word
meaning “dough,” as in bread dough.  So
you can find some of Feeling and Thought’s most savory stories in the cooking
section.  The couple of stories that fell
flat can be found in the politics section. 
But the best stories of all, the ones told year after year, can be found
in the children’s section, and most particularly in the fairy tales.

After many
years making up stories and acting them out, Thought finally said, “You know, a
long time ago we began the day debating who was born first—you or me.  And since neither of us remembers being born or
has any recollection of their respective parents then we will have to agree
that the question cannot be answered.”

“Very
logical,” said Feeling, “and I can take it a step further: perhaps in some
cosmic and mysterious way we gave birth to one another at the exact same
moment.”

“That’s far
out,” said Thought, “I can’t even wrap my mind around that one.”

Feeling was
very pleased with herself for having baffled her partner.  But then he said: “How does it feel to not
know where we came from or how we got here?”

Feeling
became silent.  “Thinking?” asked Thought,
leaning in closer on his elbows.

“No,” said
Feeling, “searching.”

Thought gave
her a few moments, and then said, “Baffled?”

“Yes,”
Feeling admitted, “and I’m not sure I like being baffled.”

“Oh,” said
Thought comfortingly, “you just haven’t searched long enough yet.  Your feelings will surface when you’re ready
to embrace them.”

“Yes,” she
said, “I think you’re right.  And I
suppose the more you ponder the idea about us arising together and giving birth
to one another long enough you too will discover words to cloth your thoughts
about this mystery.”

“Thank you,”
said Thought, “let’s help each other.” 
And he offered her his hand.  She
accepted and rose and walked with him through the garden, into their palace,
and then back into bed to make up more stories.

 

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


The Enchanted Adventures of Thought and Feeling, Part I: Getting Acquainted

The Enchanted Adventures of Thought and
Feeling

Part I: Getting Acquainted

By Joseph Anthony

Once within
a time, Thought and Feeling walked side by side on a late evening stroll.

“Look at
those two starlings swooping and dipping over the field,” said Thought.

“It’s thrilling
to watch,” said Feeling, “they’re beautiful.”

“They’re in
the Sturnidae family.”

“I see.”

“Look at
that sunset,” said Feeling, “Those crimsons splashed with purple–so lovely.”

“Are you
weeping?” asked Thought.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes such
beauty moves me to tears.”

“Interesting,”
said Thought, “I didn’t know the effects of pollution and dust particles in the
air could illicit such reactions.”

“They do for
me,” said Feeling, sniffling a little laugh.

 As they strolled together the shadows
lengthened and the first stars blinked in the navy blue sky, giving birth to the
constellations.  Thought described their shapes
and mythologies and Feeling recited poetry. 
Thought pointed out the North Star and started giving its history and as
he did Feeling looked over at him looking up at the sky and said, “You so much,”
she said, “I’m impressed.”  Thought
brought his gaze to rest on Feeling and looked her in the eye.  “I think it’s brilliant,” he said, “how you
get to the heart of the matter.” 

They both
laughed and continued walking, but this time hand in hand. 

Night
descended, draping her black shawl over the trees.  From within its folds, fireflies emerged and
rose and fell, dancing over the fields. 
Bats fluttered like tattered pieces of shadow loosened from the gossamer
fabric left to hang in the tree tops. 
Deer stepped from the forest and stood looking this way and that over
the swaying grass. 

 “It’s all so beautiful,” Thought said,
stopping to take it all in.  “It feels so…so
holy.”

“I think
it’s beautiful too,” said Feeling, pressing in closer to Thought, “and
definitely holy.”

Thought
looked at her and furrowed his brow slightly. 
“Wait,” he said, “you just said you think
the night is beautiful, and I just said it feels
holy.”

“And?” laughed
Feeling already knowing where he was going in his train of thinking.

“And?” said
Thought, “I think we’re influencing each other, don’t you?”

“Yes,”
Feeling answered, “isn’t it wonderful?”

“Well, I
suppose,” said Thought, “but what happens if we begin influencing each other
too much?”

“What do you
mean, by too much?  Do you mean you’re afraid you might lose
yourself in me?”

After some
silence, Thought nodded and then said, “But that may not be a bad idea.”  And with that he drew her close and kissed
her.  She readily received his attentions
and readily gave him her affections and soon they were rolling in the firefly
dappled field beneath the blushing stars and smiling moon.

They awoke
to a shower of bird song.  They sat up in
the field and shook the grass from their hair. 
They looked at each other and embraced, drenched in iridescent dew.

 “Lovely day,” Feeling said.

“I think
so,” Thought replied.

“How do you
feel?” Feeling asked.

“Wonderful,”
he said, “What do you think about our mingling?”

“Wonderful,”
she said, “I think it’s wonderful.”

“From now on
we are one, woven together in song.”

“Melody and
harmony,” she said, “and our children,” she began…

“And our
children,” he continued, “will be called Freedom and Unity.”

“And they
will grow to become Living Trees that will sustain the world for many
generations,” said Feeling.

“That sounds
lovely,” said Thought.

“I think so
too,” said Feeling.

And with
that they rose together and walked home in the newly born light of a newly born
day. 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Thoughts From the Heart, Part III, The Way of Being

Thoughts
From the Heart, Part III

A
Collection of Random Musings and Inspirations,

By Joseph
Anthony

 

     There
is a way of being who you are that matters most.                                                                                          It is the way of being that
sings of wonder,                                                                                            and a deep
sense of radiant gratitude.     


              

 

As you
walk through the dark woods, open your hand.
                                                                                           Feel
the good spirit slip her hand into yours,                                                                                                and watch the darkness open into
light.


Inside
your heart a seed. Inside the seed your heart.
                                                                                                        From
inside this shared space, alive and breathing,
                                                                                 all things grow into
the world.



Spirit
wears the life of matter as we would wear a silken robe                                                                                        –with delight, dignity, 
and with lavish playfulness.       

Within
matter (mater=mother=earth) spirit lives, flowing                                                                                                    and filling every cell
with sheer and
utter joy.       


                                           


Struggle
isn’t bad, it only feels bad sometimes–it’s actually a blessing.
                                                        Ask
the bird, ask the butterfly, ask the baby learning to walk.         


                                                                      

      


We are
here to unlock the treasures of one another’s hearts.                                                                                     Keys
like kindness, compassion, gratitude, forgiveness,                                                                                                                                    and praise work well.  

“What
of the feeling of impending doom?” asked the old man.                                                                   “Notice
your feet,” said the child, “and then look at your hands.                                                                                                                                       Be here
now.”

 


“Where have you
been?” the old man asked the child.                                                                                       “Sleeping,”
replied the child, “in your heart.                                                                                                                Didn’t you look for me there?”



 

 

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


When God Decided to Invent, A Little Talk on a Poem by E.E. Cummings

When God Decided to Invent

A Little Talk on a Poem by E.E.
Cummings

By

Joseph Anthony

 

I am not an
E.E. Cummings scholar.  I simply like
E.E. Cumming’s poetry, as odd as it can be. 
When I read his poetry doors open, windows open, entire skies bloom in
an instant inside me. This post will be my meditative reflections that came
after reading one of his poems. 

 

Here’s the
poem.  It doesn’t have an official title.
 It was published in 1944.


when
god decided to invent 
everything he took one 
breath bigger than a circustent 
and everything began

when man determined to destroy 
himself he picked the was 
of shall and finding only why 
smashed it into because 

 

First off, I
love Cumming’s joy at creation:

              God takes
one breath “bigger than a circustent
.” 

Those
unfamiliar with Cumming’s poetry need to know that he does a lot of play with
words—completely throwing out conventionalities, spellings, word breaks, and so
on.  Here he simply blends two words
together “circus” and “tent,” and we are given an image of bigness—fun
bigness—extravagant bigness-playful bigness—billowing bigness.

And
everything began.”  It began with
breath.  Just like with us. 

If we are
seeking mental clarity, inner healing, peace of mind, and creativity, then we
need to start at the beginning—with breath. 

The more we
learn to consciously breathe—big breaths (i.e. deep breaths)—from the belly–full,
rich breaths, the clearer we become.  The
more we can breathe and revel in the full funness of life, the deeper and more
nourishing our breaths will become. And the more we consciously breathe, the
more everything begins…again and again…

Yet there
are times we forget to breathe.  And when
people can’t breathe, they lash out—they lose control, trying desperately to survive.  And desperate people do desperate things. 

Some people
are suffocating their dreams, their hearts, and when that happens, things get
smashed to bits.

Notice God
makes the decision to invent. 

A decision
is final.  It is will blossoming into action,
and it is done.

Man, on the
other hand, according to this little poem, determines, which literally means, “to
set bounds or limits (Online Etymology Dictionary).” 

What do we
set limits to?  Our own beliefs—our own
minds and hearts.  We carry limited
beliefs within us that would knock down the circustent. 

These
limited beliefs are in “the was of shall.” 

And “shall”
means, in its roots, “to owe (ibid).” 

So I look at
these words, “the was of shall,” and interpret them to mean:

We set
boundaries on our beliefs due to unresolved memories and issues from our past.  There are amends to be made, forgiveness to
give and forgiveness to seek.  We need to
pay back what we owe.  Clean our side of
the street. 

If we want
freedom, we need to live in the consciousness of now and learn to transform
painful, limiting memories, into healing, creative big-top fun. 

In short, we
must stop living and blaming the past.

What happens
if we don’t?  What happens if we stay
victims and imprisoned by limited beliefs? 
We sink deeper and deeper into the suffocating waters of looking for
answers, into the “why this and why that.” 
And since we can never truly know all the whys, we smash everything up
with justifications and rationalizations. 
We smash it to bits and then, like any angry child does when asked why
he or she did something destructive, we say:

“Because.” 

We don’t
know why (consciously) we do many things we do. 
And thus we stop breathing, and thus we become unconscious. 

Sometimes we
know why we feel angry, we might know why we feel afraid.  Sometimes it makes little difference in the end. Deep
down we know time is ticking.  We’re
throwing away our dreams, and instead of making decisions, we set more and more boundaries
in (and on) our minds and hearts.  Our
minds shrink into prejudices and violently limiting ideologies—about others, about
people we judge, the world, and ourselves.

The solution?
Breathe breaths as big as circustents

Invent
things rather than destroy them. 

Learn to
have fun even in the work of becoming.  (Humanely)
train the animals in your circus (i.e. your passions and your shadowsides) to work for you and with you, and perhaps even, to do tricks.  Use any
odd talents and gifts you have, and shine. 

Even when we
become aware of our limited beliefs, we needn’t destroy or try to resist them,
we can breathe through them with affirmations and positive actions of love
towards self and others thus transforming them instead of waging war against
them.

We can learn
to breathe with child-like joy; with the awe of a child at a circus. 

We can
simply be and rejoice in the lavish play going on before (and within) us.

 

So there you
have it. 

My
reflections and inspirations 

after reading this little poem by E.E. Cummings.

What comes to you? 

I’d love to hear.

Thanks for reading.

Peace and Light, Joseph

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


On the Value of Making Mistakes, A Little Poem to Help Overcome Perfectionism

On the
Value of Making Mistakes

By

Joseph
Anthony

 

Dear Wonder
Child Blog Readers,

What follows
is a little poem I originally wrote 16 years ago for one of my first grade
students who would cry every time she made a mistake in her drawing books.  Since that time I have taught it to every
student I have taught—from first grade through 8th.  Whenever one of my students says, “Oh, no, I
messed up,” I say, “Spilled milk is a mess, my dear, you just made a
mistake.”  And then I start reciting this
poem. 

No matter
what age you are, if you have trouble accepting yourself for making mistakes,
if you think you have to be perfect in everything you do, if you don’t allow
yourself the freedom and dignity to make mistakes, this poem is for you.  Memorize it, post it wherever it might help
you or someone else you love to remember that it is not only OK to make
mistakes, it’s part of the journey, it means you’re up and doing, taking
healthy risks. 

So have fun,
make mistakes, and remember your wonderfulness when you do.

Peace and
Light,

Joseph

 

Kings
and Queens

By Joseph
Anthony

 

Kings
and Queens can never grow,

Without
mistakes to use as guides,

They
help us know the way to go,

And
gold within their heart resides.


 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Haiku From the Heart III

Haiku
From the Heart III

 

You are a blessing ~
to the world and to the Light ~ shine sunflower, shine

 

Open your hands ~
let all your worries go ~ now set your hands to praising

 

Empty your worries ~
into love’s radiant stream ~ and be filled with Light

 

Spring flowers
rejoice ~ in simply being themselves ~ sharing who they are


 

Lavender wishes ~ dreams blossom in sleepy minds ~ bathed
in silver light

 

Angels from on high ~ descend into dreamer’s sleep ~ bringing
down the stars

 

Sleep has found my eyes ~ my mind however still hides ~ running
through the night

 

The moon is loosened ~ from blossoming spring tree tops ~
free to light the way

 

Fire hides within wood ~ just as heaven does in me ~
nature reveals truth

 

The empty chair fills ~ with a spirit lost and sad ~ I
reach out my hand

 

Explore the shadow ~ discover your golden mean ~ spiral
into light

 

As true as the dawn ~ as you sow, so shall you reap ~
loving begets love

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog