Dream in Sydney

Yesterday before going to sleep I was listening to the song The Garden by Einsturzende Neubaten, while reading the latest news of the day about Richard Armitage (I’m sorry, reader for disappoint you, but I do not read about the global economic crisis before I go to bed, or on the Syrian situation!). So, I went to visit Servetus’s blog, and a smile was put upon my face when I saw her kindness of linking my last two posts. I clicked on “I wish this would be your color” to read it not as the author of the text, but as an external reader, to try and capture its feeling. Finally, I visited some friends’s blogs she linked in her post. I read about their expectations of going to meet Richard Armitage in Sydney, at an event hosted by PopcornTaxi in Hayden Orpheum, Cremorne. I feel happy for them! As the event is on the other side of the world, there is no way I could go. But a girl can dream …
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I walk through the hall of a hotel in Sydney. The dim light, the high ceiling and glass wall reflect the sophistication of the place and give it an air of mystery. I walk alone, without haste, wearing a long black dress, which has a small tail, which sinuously crawls across the floor. I have my bare back, but my hair to down to my waist in a cascade black, like the wings of a crow. I’m a grown woman, aware of my femininity and power (1). I walk toward Richard Armitage, which is being awaited for a press conference. He is perfect in his black leather jacket and he has been growing his beard again. An adult man, mature, in the fullness of his masculine energy. We crossed, and I turn slightly my head to offering my face to him, and looking at the floor. His shoulder partially blocks my way and he holds me gently by the arm, whispering in my ear: You will find me if you want me in the garden, unless you send me the rain (2). My shoulders sliding against his shoulder and my hands touch her ​​waist, and then I turn away from him. I smile slightly and follow toward the outer door (3).

While crossing it, one day bright and full of life opens before me. People come and gone in a day full of light, but not of work. I am young again  in my twenties, wearing a flowered dress in pale pinks, just above the knees, white sneakers and a denim jacket(4). My hair is its natural color, light brown and I carry with me some books. I’m in Sydney, and I cannot believe it! I spread a grin from ear to ear.

I see a craft fair in a central square in the city. I go  there apace. I walk among the countless stalls, noting the items that are sold to tourists. Then, I go to a square where artists sell their paintings. I see a gallery of outdoor art, from painting to painting for their color palette. Framed art  flying towards me and I find myself going into colorful landscapes, green fields, blue skies, colorful flowers. It is as if the city would become a Monet painting. I catch sight of the Opera House Sails on the other side of the square, but the sea separates us. However, there are narrow walkways or bridges on the surface, which are ways for people to cross walking the ocean.

I take out my shoes and start walking on one of them. On all sides there is the deep sea and the small waves wet my feet (4). Far away, there is a fishing boat, offering severed heads of dolphins, which they sell to tourists to attract sharks. I think this is a horrible thing, but I decide not to think about it until the right time (7). I sit for a moment on the walkways to try to see the otters, my fingers scratch the water  calling them. I wait…

Bit by bit a couple of otters approaches me (5). They glide through the clear blue water. Their acrobatics appear spontaneous and energetic to as they swim together in a synchronized display, but they maintain their individual swimming routes. I lay on the walkway and stretching my arms in the water to try to get my fingers in its glossy hair. They come to the surface and expel air on my face, splashing water. Like a child I let out a laugh and try to protect me from the water. I move my hands in his silky fur and they plunge back into the sea and disappeared.

So, I meet an old friend (4). We hugged happy and I wonder what she is doing in Sydney. She says  was studying to go to university, but married, had children, and was in Australia. I speak that great, and I’m really happy for her, but I feel a certain sadness in my heart, do not let that show in my face. She asks me what I’m doing in Sydney. Well, I say I’m a touris.  I could not make the student exchange in Australia, with which I had dreamed so much, but I had admission to a PhD program at a Brazil university in a great project, and was very excited about it. We hugged and parted wishing the best for each.

So I come to the garden surrounding the Opera House Sails, I walk slowly to a bank where a man is sitting alone. A sigh out of my chest, Richard Armitage. I smile at him and walk in his direction. At each step, the years of my life keep adding up, and I become again the old woman I am. As I approach it tells me: You did it, you’re in the place you always dreamed of! And he extends his arm, giving me a black cloak. I sit beside him, laying my head on his chest and tell him: Thank you, my dear, for returning  my otter skin (6).

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Interpretation: Dream in Sydney – Part II

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Dolphin Dream

In the dimension of dreams, my cousin and I were in a crystal blue sea, almost no waves. Plunged in endless blue at regular intervals and we returned to the surface to breathe. In one of these dives, I spot a dolphin, and I signal to my cousin, I’ll try to get closer to him. I swim slowly closing the distance between us. The dolphin approaches, cutting the surface of the water, and I touch his nose lightly with the tips of my fingers. I smile to my cousin, who is distant from us.

Abel Tasman National Park, Nelson, New Zeland (Photo: Ana Cris)

Then I dive  and try to follow the dolphin, that swam quickly, going deeper and deeper. The color of the water is still crystal clear and I lose myself in the middle of the air bubbles that appear chaotic around me. I swim aimlessly through them, but they offer no indication of the whereabouts of the dolphin. However, moving into increasingly deep waters I can locate the dolphin, and I decide to approach him. He swims slowly, and I can touch his body, realizing then that one of its pectoral flipper are attached by a fishing net.

Spinner dolphin (Stenella longirostris), Fernando de Noronha, Pernambuco – Brazil

(Photo: Camila M Câmara)

I return to the surface and to tell my cousin that the dolphin is caught in the fish network and we would get help. She tells me that there’s a TV crew who are filming dolphins, and they say there is nothing that can be done for him. I tell her that this is a huge nonsense. So back to the dolphin, and think to myself: Well, this is a problem  that only we can solve. He seems to agree. So I start the hard work of release him from fish network, I swimming beside him, deeper and deeper. I feel fear, which accelerates the release of air, and consequently I lose the rhythm of breathing. However, I finally freed him, and he swims freely while I quickly return to the surface to breathe. I wake up with an asthma attack and touch the Celtic dolphin that I have tattooed on my right shoulder.

Dolphin
In rhythmic breathing teaches me how to flow with the life
To unite mind, body and spirit,
in peace in both worlds I meet.
Guiana Dolphin (Sotalia guianensis), Barra do Paraguaçu, Bahia, Brazil(Photo: Instituto de Mamíferos Aquáticos)

The dolphin emerges from the world of the waters to help us connect with the deepest part  and contemplative of our being. They go to the surface to breathe the air, which represents the intellect and dive back into the emotional qualities of water bodies that surround it. It creates its own rhythm vital when swimming amid waves, emerging at regular intervals to breathe and submerging again, holding its breath while remaining underwater. Thus, the dolphin is the guardian of the sacred breath of life and teach us to modulate our emotions by breathing rhythm. They are highly intelligent animals that interact with its environment through echolocation; skills that represent qualities of psychic communication. They teach us to modulate our internal sound, along with breathing, to achieve our desires. When a dolphin appears in our life it invites us to pay attention to the rhythms of nature, tidal, our body and our energy pattern and communication.

Guiana Dolphin (Sotalia guianensis), Barra do Paraguaçu, Bahia, Brazil

(Photo: Instituto de Mamíferos Aquáticos)

Deilf, my Celtic dolphin, emerges from the Dreamtime to guide me in the sea of my inner world. His swim fast and without direction, producing numerous air bubbles indicate that involvement in many projects and ideas can overwhelm the psyche and lead to disorganization and unproductive. He invites me to restore the internal rhythm, avoiding overindulgence, it can take me to a reckless and irresponsible behavior. Behavior, which, in turn, may manifest itself in attachment delusions and unfocused goals. It reminds me that if we do not develop a rhythm to achieve our goals, we succumb to feelings of depression and self-recrimination, dipping into negative emotions we immobilize a fishing net. It is important to understand the power of rhythm in our lives, being aware of our choices and commitments, modulating emotions to reach them. Engaging in creative activities that are nutritious, rather than those that cause depletion of our vital energy. Dolphin invites me to dive deep into the emotional energies and channel it to a productive outcome, establishing the respiratory rhythm and getting the vital breath required to swim in the waters of life.

Spirit of the Dolphin
breathe with me
Help me connect me with the Divine Breath
Manna of the Universe.

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The boy who looked inside

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.

He lead me beside the still waters

Psalm23

Text by Ana Cris, Search by Fabi and Ana Cris and Illustration by Sebastian

Morelea Farm, New Zealand (Photo: Ana Cris)

John¹ was a boy who paid attention to everything. Sometimes he looks the things that everyone sees. The daisies in the window, the leaves swaying in the wind, the sheep grazing. But sometimes, even in daylight, even awake, even with his eyes open, he was so distracted that he neither answered when one talking with him. At these times, John’s grandfather used to say. — He is looking inside. And he really was². Then he saw things that most people could not see, because John knew how to communicate with his inner world and the treasures that there were³.

So when he sat in the grandfather’s rocking chair and looked inside, he was soon facing a restless sea in a ship of pirates². Or when he take care the sheep and looked inside, was a forest full of talking animals. Anywhere, John could go out and look inside. And it started turning habit. It was thus that he met a sheep named Oak-hearted, and they became great friends.

John Standring by Sebastian

At the time John was thinking that in the inner world everything was so much more fun than in the outside, so he had a plan².

— You know, Oak, I am willing to turn me a sheep and stay here forever.

— Forever? — Oak asked.

— Forever, John replied. Here is where I do everything I want.

Oak took a deep breath and said.

— I think forever is too long!

But John did not listen and continued with his plan. Resigned, Oak said:

— Right, to be a sheep you must keep strong bonds  with your childhood, with  the child-like qualities, such as gentleness, innocence and vulnerability⁴. Being a sheep means that you will learn to get in touch with a part of yourself more vulnerable. However, in a positive way, i.e., open, available to feeling in a gentle, innocent manner. You have to learn to compassionate acceptance of one’s limitations or pain. And you will have to be more tolerant with yourself to look at emotional suffering you may experience in your life with compassion and acceptance, caring for yourself and others instead blaming yourself or others for how bad you feel⁴.

Sheeps, New Zeland (Photo: Ana Cris)

And so time went by and John grew up and became a man gentle and helpful. And so much he looked inner world, he began to notice the subtleties that others do not perceive. Introverted, his way of working was slow and deliberately. He liked to focus on one task at a time with great power of concentration. His thought had an unusual complexity. And he tended to have an awareness of the world around him surprisingly strong, realizing the inner world of other like oneself, which gave him a strong sense of empathy. He listened more than he talked, and he often felt he expressed himself better writing. He did not like conflict or of small talk, but enjoyed deep discussions with his grandfather³.

But outside of John there are Carol Bolton¹. Carol was the most beautiful girl that John had ever seen. In true was the only girl he had seen, because in the inner world there were not many girls. She was extroverts and impulsive, and loved the vibe of the outside world, the running after fame and fortune. But John was immune to it. He preferred to devote his energies to his closest friends and family. Already, Carol had passion and was always mixed up in confusion, trying to subvert the order of things. While John was a keen observer who looked at before taking a leap.

However, so much he looked inside that the outside world was gone. And he felt inadequate, anxious and scared when looked out. Especially near Carol.

—It’s … spend the rest of life looking inside cannot be good. He said to Oak. I’m not like Carol, I’m not heroic and sociable – John said.

Oak nodded. And he said:

—In times of war or fear, it may seem that what we need are more aggressive and heroic types. But if the entire population were warriors, there would be no one to notice – let alone fight – more silence threats.

John Standring by Sebastian

—I feel that if I want to win Carol I have to learn to be more sociable and communicative and stop being so shy. Also, everyone should be outgoing if they want to be successful, said John.

—Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shyness is the fear of social disapproval or humiliation, while introversion is a preference for environments that are not overstimulating. Shyness is inherently painful, introversion is not³. Do not be so hard on yourself, John. There are many qualities in you. The extrovert temperament is attractive, but the advantage of creative introverts is that the solitude can be a catalyst for innovation. Introspective people can come succeed as artists, writers, scientists and thinkers, because their aversion to novelty causes to spend more time on the intellectually fertile environment of their minds³, said Oak

—You know, Oak — said John. I looked into Carol. And when she was just a girl, she expected the world, but it flew away her reach. So, when she ran away in her sleep, she dreams of paradise⁵. Now I walk with a desire to stay there forever, because there is all I want.

— Excellent! — Oak said. All that Carol needs is someone that brings back innocence, softness and vulnerability of childhood. And there went out the door John put his new plan into practice!

Reference and Notes

1. Sparkhouse is a BBC drama, originally shown in 2002, written by Sally Wainwright which is a modern take on Wuthering Heights. Serie TV BBC UK

2. Machado, A. M. 2008. O menino que espiava pra dentro. Editora Global

3. Cain, S. 2012. O poder dos quietos. Original title Quiet: The Power of Introverts . Editora Agir.

4. Paradise – Coldplay

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5. Richard as John Standring. Images from http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/

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English version – Undisclosed Desires

The scorching heat on the land silences the land. It is all so quiet I can hear the song of the thrush¹ in the branches of an old poplar². cfilip filip filip codidio quitquiquit. The solitary bird sings! A song of undisclosed desires. I take a step toward him, but he flies away. And I hear what at first seems to be the beating of rain on dry ground, which quickly turns into the sound of thunder. The black steed of Guy of Gisborne³ appears in the distance, driven at high speed by his rider. It is an overwhelming sight!

I leave the road and I hide me behind poplar. Within moments, they will pass me by and not want to be seen. However, as if sensing my presence, the horse suddenly stop and rose up on its hind legs, risking throw its rider to the ground. ─ Cursed animal, Guy of Gisborne run high, holding tightly to his body to the steed and echoing my own thoughts!

The horse snorts, shakes his head, but the rider is like a statue on his rump high. My heart races and I fear being denounced by its increasingly out of step pace. The horse turns its neck, hitting the leg of his rider. Its eyes cannot see me, but he feels my presence behind the poplar.

Guy’s eyes roam the vegetation in the direction indicated by the animal. Everything is so quiet I can hear the tinkle of bridle, the panting of the horse, the sound, the smell, the friction of leather on the body of the mighty steed and, finally, the roar of the sword.

─ Who is there? Come coward! He orders, still looking on my direction.

─ My Lord, I am Lady Marian, I answer courteously, revealing to me from behind the poplar.

─ Lady Marian? ─ he says. His voice is low and deep, almost a whisper, as if he didn’t want to be heard. Are you by chance hiding from me? He asks.

─ Of course, not ─ I say. Barely form the words. I feel like a female thrush enchanted by a love song.

─What are you doing here,  Marian, so far from home? This road is dangerous; the Hood’s gang has it as them territory.

─ They will never make me ill, I answer without thinking.

─ Not? He hesitates for a second, his heart pounding, a dangerous mix of genius and desire, and then it gathers momentum, his eyes getting a cold disdain. He keeps his sword and dismounts from his horse.

─Still, I would rather that you not move away from his father’s house, and walks alone through remote places. There are other dangers lurking in these forests. Soldiers, merchants, outsiders, cruel men tired of endless days on the road.

─ Who would dare to harm me here? I ask. Just a short walk to my father’s house.

─ My dear Lady, you live in the light, you don’t know the darkness of men’s hearts ─ he says. Accept my arm and let me take you for home.

─ In fact, I would be a fool if I do not listen to your advice ─ I answer. And slowly I approach him. I feel your body shake like a horse tied to a short reins and his eyes stare at me as if nothing else existed. My face touches his neck and I feel the suavity of the curly hair of his nape like a feather in my face. My hands touch the thick belt that surrounds his waist. Seeking the hilt of his dagger. His breathing is slow and deep, and his  slightly woody scent invades my nostrils, and inebriate to me for a brief moment. I unsheathe the dagger; I take the sharp edge to his throat. And a  thin red line appears under the pressure of the dagger.

He recoils shocked for away from me, his posture alert, like a wounded animal.

─ Marian! He says incredulously. What I’ve become? A fool!  He says, the anger harshly controlled  in his voice.

_ See, my Lord, I can defend myself from men who run the roads. I declare triumphantly. And, I’m talking seriously!

─ Take … he takes it out the sheath sword and spear to the ground. Stay also with the sword as proof of my stupidity.

There is nothing I can say to calm his anger, so I take the sword from the floor, clean it, and I turn to his black steed.  I take it  by the reins, stroking his horse mane and pull it slowly, starting to walk back home.

Step in front of Guy, my hands touch him lightly, inviting him to accompany me. We continued in silence. I can hear the sound of his cloak behind me and annoyance of his thoughts. When we reached the end of the woods I stop and I turn to him, returning his weapons and reins of his horse.

─My Lord, forgive me. I say feebly. Do not want you to get upset with me and pass deal me with  indifference. My voice sounds shaky, and I am surprised with the sincerity of my words. He looks at me.

─ Never. He says simply. Nor that this was my wish, I could be indifferent to you. You treat me like a dog and as a dog I must follow you forever.

─Do not say that!

─Do not say what?

─ I cannot stand seeing him talking like that! I shall regret for ever by my unreason.

─ Why the regret? ─ he asks. One way or another, I am only an animal for you. He says. And in a sudden movement he takes me in his arms.

His hands firmly holding my body close to him. And feel the warmth of his skin radiates through my body, awakening my femininity. I feel his breath next to my face and my lips open slightly. I desire him, and unexpectedly, he kisses me! And rather than repel it, I want to reconcile the violence in his heart⁴. I want to exorcise the demons from his past, and satisfy the undisclosed desires in his heart.

My heart runs fast and my body responds so readily to his touch, that for a moment I think I could lie me down with him, there as a pagan priestess, with only the sky of poplar as a witness. But then, he  keep me away   with vehemence.

─ Ready, My Lady, we’re even ─ he says. You stole my weapon and I stole yours. From here you are safe. There’s your father. And back to me the horse and I will follow my path in peace. He says with a slight irony in a  gentle almost innocent voice .

I can feel the color of my face intensified by anger and wounded pride. However my words are weak, almost infant.

─ You are cheeky! I raise my hand to give slap him. But he holds my hand, preventing me.

─Better not, Marian. You’ve hurt me today, and I do not want that you repent again!

─ Take your weapons and your horse. I respond with anger, freeing me from his arms and throw his weapons at him. He takes them with incredible agility.

─Accepted my dagger, My Lady, as a memory of mine. He says, assuming the mask that normally uses. Cold and loveless.

─Sure, if that’s what you desire. I say proudly, taking the dagger and turning my backs on him.

─Marian ─ he calls me, his voice almost a whisper.And I hear the song of the thrush far away. Because I listen to you!

─ Do not bother me. Forgive my madness. He says. His eyes reflect the storm of feelings inside him . A mix of vulnerability and pride. And I see how much he has suffered, and unable to hurt him again, I say sweetly:

─ Come Guy, take me to the gate house. He follows silently beside me. I want to calm him, to reconcile the violence in his heart. I want to recognize his beauty and to satisfy the undisclosed desires in my heart.

Reference and Note

1. To access the meaning of thrush as Power Animal, I just followed my intuition. Early in the story, we have this songbird announced to Marian the arrival of a love song. The song of Marian and Guy of Gisborne as all love songs is full of uncertainties, fears and insecurities. The Thrush teaches us  to sing a song of love that we have to create our own repertoire, expressing our individuality (each male thrush may have a repertoire of over 100 phrases). Also, he reminds us that  to relate, we need to  open our channels of perception and recognize the expression on the other.

Song Turdus philomelos

2. Already  the poplar tree in the Celtic tradition represent the uncertainty. According to this tradition, people linked to poplar are not very self-confident, but they are courageous if necessary, needs goodwill and pleasant surroundings, very choosy, often lonely, great animosity, artistic nature, good organizer, tends to lean toward philosophy,reliable in any situation, takes partnership seriously.

3. The tale is based on the Robin Hood series, produced by BBC One and transmitted between 2006-2009. Images are Richard Armitage as Guy of Gisborne and Lucy Griffiths as Marian, characters from the series.

4. Undisclosed Desires-Muse

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Still your princess

Franky!                                                                                                                                              Franky!

I’m not scared                                                                                                               Where did you go

I know that you’re gone                                                                                   It’s stormy on this road

but I’m still here                                                                                                                 And I’m alone

Franky!                                                                                                             Tell me why I’m still here

I don’t want you to go                                                                 When you’re not, what’s the deal?

I try so hard but I miss you so                                                                           I’m still your princess ¹

Once upon a time a Kingdom, where lived a princess and her prince, they were very happy and had many plans together. But one day the prince went out to ride and never returned. And Belle fell into a deep sleep, as well as their parents and all the inhabitants of the castle.

And so the Kingdom ceased to exist for Belle. This is the symbolic meaning of deadly sleep that fell on everyone and everything that surrounded the princess because the world is alive only for the person who awakens for him — said La Loba, while slowly brushed my hair.

—Did she fall into a deep sleep in order turn off the memory of her pain? I asked. Right, La Loba said. And it will take many years, and a long process that until  the princess awaken because she sleeps the sleep of transformation. Fulfilled the due time, she will wake up^2,3.

—And the world will never be the same. I told La Loba, as I lay in my bed.

—Yes, my dear — La Loba said — the world will continue to spin. And young people like you have afraid of inactivity where nothing seems to happen, because the common belief says that only doing things we can achieve the goals. However, a long period of quiet contemplation, concentration on self, can lead us to greater achievements. And Belle will not  permanently stay in immobile even that she feels that this period of quiescence seems to last a hundred years^2,3.

—Please continue the story, I asked La Loba, until I sleep!

While the Kingdom sleeps, continued La Loba, the thorns grew up around the tower where the princess took refuge and all who tried to reach her failed because she was not ready and in her sleep she sought her own identity and freedom.

—I wish she had a dragon protecting her in her tower — I told La Loba.

— Oh, but she had, replied La Loba. The Black⁴ is his name, the dragon of renewal. He is the greatest of all dragons and his fire is very powerful. The Black is at the beginning and end of every process. With his huge heart he works self-acceptance and the courage to make changes in our lives. He helps us overcome our traumas. And allows you to see difficult situations  objectively. If something difficult happened, it will help you to dissolve the emotions and suffering that come from memories, allowing you to distance itself from the situation emotionally, seeing it with understanding and acceptance understanding their learning. After that, this Dragon will help us put into practice what has been learned so that we can continue to walk. Black is a savior that comes to rescue us when we go through periods of crisis. It penetrates the darkness and brings light. With its powerful puff it deep clears our negative mental energy and the psycho-emotional environment⁴.

—Yes, a dragon, black as night. And what happened to Belle? La Loba asked.

—Well, although the time does not turn out the moments experienced in the past, it has the power to remove its vitality, leaving us just a memory. Thus elapsed the time, Belle joined forces in solitude, and became herself getting emotional maturity. Changes happened inside her that awakened to the possibility of a happy new life in her kingdom. And so the princess felt alive again. And therefore what seem impenetrable opened again. The wall of thorns suddenly turned around in big, beautiful flowers, allowing anyone to enter, because only in relationship with others awakens us from the danger of letting our lives asleep for too long.

Then she met the prince and kissed him⁵, continued La Loba. Everyone considered the prince an insignificant man and without ambition. A man practically invisible in his world. However, he was a good man, a true gentleman, with a sense of humor, but he suffered prejudice by his appearance. And it was for this man who Belle slowly fell in love. And in the heart of Belle, where were all her Belles, he met the subtlety of  pain and the delicacy of love⁵.

Reference

1. Franky’s Princess – Emilie Simon

[

2. Bruno Bettelheim. A Psicanálise dos Contos de Fadas. 16a Edição – PAZ e TERRA – 2002 Traduzido do original em inglês: The Uses of Enchantment:
The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales.

3. Qual Bela Adormecida você quer ser? Texto de Cristina Balieiro.

4. Black Dragon, O Dragão da Renovação – Text of Dragon Energy Center

5. La delicatesse (Delicacy) – The movie of David Foenkinos e Stéphane Foenkinos. França, 2011.

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English version – Promenade à deux

A bonfire ignites the valley.                                                  Pass suddenly along the hillsides

A dance shakes all the earth.                                                 To lose themselves in darkness.

Shadows vague and shapeless                                             Whose is the dance the night has

Roaming the valley in black flashes                                                                 filled with terror?

                                                                                                                          (FernandoPessoa,       

                                                                                                                    English version available )

The scorpion promises transformation. In ancient Egypt, Selkhet is the lady of the underworld and rebirth of the soul. Her symbol is the scorpion, being represented as a woman with a scorpion on her head or as a scorpion with a woman’s head. For the ancient Egyptians, Selkhet was a goddess invoked for protection against bites of venomous animals, usually lethal. Scorpion stings lead to paralysis and Serket’s name describes this, as it means (she who) tightens the throat, however, Serket’s name also can be read as meaning (she who) causes the throat to breathe, because in some species the poison itself is the antidote to its spur. Already, in Greek mythology death of Orion (son of Zeus) was caused by a scorpion. According to legend, Orion was an excellent hunter, with rare beauty and had the predilection of the goddess Artemis, but was beloved by the goddess Aurora. For jealousy, Artemis send a giant scorpion out of the earth and he sting to death the heel of the hunter, who at that time is taken into heaven along with the animal, forming the constellations Orion and Scorpio, which are kept separate to avoid further disputes. Scorpio, with its main red star Antares, appears in the eighth house of the zodiac, and translates, for astrologers, the sign that is associated with the mystical force in the critical processing steps such as reproduction, death and rebirth.

So, the learning path of this powerful animal is not for the faint of heart, because the change that the scorpion promises must be preceded by the death of something: an idea, a relationship or a way of life, for that rebirth can occur.

Thus, Scorpio requires that a person becomes a disciple, or someone who is consciously willing to provide help for the evolution of humanity. And to do that, he has to try his hand: to go as far as possible within yourself, look all their miseries in order to die and be reborn as a Phoenix, fully aware of who he is and what it’s worth. The motto of Scorpio is transpersonal “Warrior I am and from the battle I emerge triumphant.” It is the struggle that will bring results even if the person dies.

Scorpio brings intensity, strength, intelligence and sexuality. He invites us to go deeply and passionately in everything, by accessing our survival instinct. People with the power of scorpions are strong and have the ability to inspire. Scorpio them confers the powers of charisma, rejuvenation, transformation, death and rebirth,  magnetism, passion, intensity, boldness and healing at the all level.

A strong message that the Scorpion has for us is the protection. Their main physical characteristics are natural systems protection. For example, consider the hard exoskeleton of a scorpion as a line of defense. Also consider chelicerae and pedipalps are potentially harmful – not to mention its poisonous sting. Thus, the appearance of the Scorpion seems to say “Do not mess with me.”

Scorpions are almost always solitary, although some species may develop some degree of social behavior. The interaction intraspecific best studied and most complex of the scorpion is the courtship behavior, which was first described in the early nineteenth century and only in the 1950s it was discovered the indirect transfer of sperm. (Sexual needs are very strong in people attuned to the scorpion. However, they usually have period of solitude interspersed with intense and passionate relationships, again the symbol of reproduction, death and rebirth.)

The courtship behavior of scorpions^1,2 can be basically divided into three phases: initiation, promenade à deux (walking to two) and  sperm transfer. In the first, relatively fast, the couple meets, and occurs intraspecific recognition and sexual , only proceeding if the female usually larger than the male, is receptive.

The second part of the process of reproduction can be summarized by the classical ‘promenade deux’2 (Fig. 1) in which the male first approaches the female and then grasps her pedipalp chelae with his own chelae fingers. A form of dance then takes place. During the dance, the male stimulates the female and reduces her aggressiveness leading it in various directions, holding her pedipalps, exploring the environment in search of suitable surface to effect the deposition of the spermatophore. The duration of this phase is directly influenced by the time of search of the deposition site (5 minutes or 48 hours). In the next phase, the male deposits the spermatophore on the substrate chosen and pulls the female, positioning her properly on it. The female genital operculum opens as she stoops over the spermatophore, allowing sperm to enter her reproductive tract and fertilization occurs. In addition to these three phases has been reported post-transfer behavior in some species, such as consumption of the spermatophore and cannibalism. Cannibalism is the post-mating behavior that draws the most attention from researchers and occurs when the female sees the male as prey rather than as a partner. Here, the Scorpio is a clear warning:  control your passions so that they do not consume you.

Therefore, as a power animal, the Scorpion represents protection, passion, control, intensity. When the Scorpion makes an appearance in our lives he calls us for his mystical dance of passion, death and rebirth. We are ready for his walk for two?

Reference

Promenade à deux – Scorpion Tales (2012) for Two Harps. Composed by Robert Paterson, and Duo Scorpio performed by Kathryn Andrews and Kristi Shade

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1. BRASIL, T. K. & PORTO, T. J. 2010. Os escorpiões. Salvador: EDUFBA, 2010.
84 p.

2. LOURENÇO, W. R. 2000. Reproduction in scorpions, with special reference to parthenogenesis. European Arachnology 2000, pp. 71-85.

3. Algumas das informações desse post sobre o totem Escorpião foram derivadas das seguintes fontes: Some of the information on this post about scorpion-totem was derived from the following sources:

Scorpion – A Symbol Meaning of Stinging Importance

Scorpion

Scorpion Totem, Scorpion Medicine

4. All images are Chris Ryan’s Strike Back is a six-part British television series based on the novel of the same name written by best-selling author and former soldier of the Special Air Service, Chris Ryan. It was produced by Left Bank Pictures for Sky1. The cast of Strike Back is led by Richard Armitage, who plays series protagonist John Porter. Porter served with the SAS until he was discharged after he saved a boy who was believed to have murdered two soldiers in his unit following a rescue operation the night before the Iraq invasion.

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The girl and The Faerie

Fairy tales are like that. One morning we wake up. We say: It was just a fairy tale. But deep down, we’re not smiling. We know that fairy tales are the only truth of life.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

La Loba asked me if I knew the story of the girl who dreamed of the Faerie. Yes, I said. Tell me then, she asked me. Once upon a time a girl who had neither father nor mother, and who lived in the Dark Forest. One day she wanted to see the Faerie⁴. There was a village near the forest. So she decided to go there to ask which was the way to the Faerie. But the village was a place where nobody returns to what has already left, where nobody knew where they have been. In this place, nobody even remembered what has dreamt². The girl wandered the streets, wondering what was the way to the Faerie. But no one stopped and pay attention her. Everyone was too busy and never leaves the great wheel. Where they whirled and whirled. So one night she climbed a cardboard staircase. Imagined. Invoked. Did not lead to anything. It was just a cardboard staircase¹.

—An illusion staircase. But was there another way for the Faerie? La Loba asked.

—Yes, there was, I say.

—What was it? She asked.

 

—There was another entry, narrower. An entry more difficult and tight. This entry was invented by a Dwarf and is guarded by a Dragon², I said.

—Yes, Aquamarine, the bluish-green color Dragon of Authenticity³, La Loba said. This dragon helps us discover that we are all unique. With his help, it is possible leave aside all the masks, so, let us to be authentic, not afraid to show the world who we are. The more we accept our essence – with our lights and shadows – the more we can respect the way others think and act³. Well, this is the only way I know to the Faerie, La Loba said. And what that girl did?

—Oh, she went to the Dragon and asked if he knew the way to the Faerie because she wanted very, very know it. Then, the Dragon said:

O see ye not yon narrow road
So thick beset wi’ thorns and briers?
That is the path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquiries.
And see ye not yon braid, braid road
That lies across the lily leven?
That is the path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the Road to Heaven.
And see ye not yon bonny road
That winds about yon fernie brae?
That is the road to fair Elfland. Where thou and I this night maun gae⁴.

 

 

—And what happened? La Loba asked.

—Well, the girl met the Dwarf, who was actually a Dragon Kinight and he said he would help her along the way to the Faerie. But before she had to return to the black forest, to all the things she left. And she had to remember all the ways by which she walked. And more importantly, he told her: She had to remember her dreams, because without them it was very easy to lose the way to the Faerie.

—Well that were a lot of things, La Loba said. How did she do to remember it all?

—She began to write, read and draw and she learned the language of animals and plants. And so she made many friends, who happens also sought the way to the Faerie.

—But then something happened, right? La Loba said. Yes, something happened, I said.

—What happened? She asked.

—One day the villagers missed the girl. And they were going to see what she was doing. And they saw her writings, her drawings and her art. And they were shocked by what they found. Since, the girl wrote about dwarves, talking animals, Dark Forests, dragons, dreams and fantasies. And it frightened them, because they  remembered about their dreams and their own ways. And worse, it made ​​them forget the great wheel. Where they whirled and whirled. And then they were sore afraid.

—And what they did?  La Loba asked.

—They broke her heart.

—Oh, little girl, La Loba hugged me. To prevent the cardboard staircase. There is an important step you should take. Anyone who does not support your art, your dreams, and your life doesn’t worth your time. It’s hard but true. These types of projects need to be nurtured and fed. They need vital support of friendly people⁵.

—What should I do, La Loba? I asked with teary eyes.

—You must continue to search for the Faerie, in company with your Dwarf and your Dragon, just that.

—Yes, I agreed.

—But tell me one thing, little wolf. This Dwarf is very beautiful, isn’t he?

—Yes, he is. Some say he is a hot dwarf, I said.

—Hum, a hot dwarf? This is an interesting detail of the story, La Loba said.

—Yes, I said, drying my tears. But he is also the worthy leader, intelligent and heroic of a company of Dwarves.  La Loba laughed.

—Who would have thought, a company of hot and heroic Dwarves. Now, I understand, part of the confusion. See, my little wolf, Snow White was a wise girl for her time, but not too bold. She had seven dwarves to teach her the way to the Faerie, but they were all ugly! Come on; let me take a look at this Dwarf. Not bad, agreed La Loba. If you had not told me he was a Dwarf, I would think he was the Prince Charming, and then, we would have chaos. Then, we laugh like crazy of all this ‘story’, as only women know how to laugh.

Reference

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1 and 2. The Portuguese group “Madredeus” com lead singer “Teresa Salgueiro” perform “The Paradise” and “ The Shep. The first video have Portuguese lyrics and an English translation.

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3. Dragon Energy Center

4. Tolkien, J.R.R. 2006 . Sobre Histórias de Fadas. Original title Tree and Leaf.

5. Estés, C.P. 1994. Mulheres que correm com os lobos: mitos e histórias do arquétipo da mulher selvagem. Editora Rocco, Rio de Janeiro.

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The moon’s song

I go my way through the mist. I don’t want to be afraid. Die inside just to breathe. I don’t want to forget who I am for your world makes sense. Night is coming, and I’ll sing the song of the Moon again. I’ll invoke the unconscious psychic energy that holds all the secrets of wisdom and knowledge. And then I’ll find my own way.
I’ll call the lunar dog of my soul with my howling. Please, do not want to be my eyes and ears, because my senses are very sharp and I know the paths that lead me to new worlds and bring me back home.

Do not try to scare me; I’ll not lose me along the way. I follow the wolf and the full moon lights my way. Like him, I follow my instincts. I raise my nose to the wind, I breathe its odors. Ears alert, I hear the sounds of life. I changed and I can seem a bit broken, but my heart remains. So I’m not a stranger in my own skin.

In your eyes I may seem aloof or stuck in another world. But I am not hurt anymore, although these scars remain with me, they just say where I was and not where I will.

I walk with my wolf and I’m not afraid to break new ground. Feel the pulsating earth, run the world and hunt my own food. And back to share the food obtained.

I’m no longer that  shy girl or painfully insecure  begging your approval. I’m not a foreigner in my own territory. I found the lunar dog of my soul. I am simply not alone anymore.

I feel whole once again. I have a voice, and I will be heard by all those who sing the song of the night. The song of the moon. I will share secrets and break promises.

Although I’m not angry anymore, I’m tired of feeling stuck, waiting for you to look at me. And despite your lies, I know you see me. And you know I feel your loneliness and cold. I know your ways, if anesthetize inside to stay alive. To not feel the pain. But this is a drug that kills within. And I want to live.

The relief exists and I find when I accept who I am. When I accept that you are simply wrong. You are who don’t know the way and got lost in the darkness of your soul. Your heart is guided only by your selfishness, and this doesn’t hurt me anymore. You chased and killed the wolf, but he lives inside of me. And the silver moon lights the wolf fur on my neck. You would know that if you looked in my eyes. You would know the true nature of my soul. But it’s too late and our choices only keep us increasingly apart.

Night is coming and I hear the song of the moon. She tells me that I will continue to howl, sing and live. That a new sun rises for the darkest night that is. The pack calls me away with your howls. I’m not a stranger in my own world.

I hear the song of the moon, and now I understand the uniqueness of each personality and beauty of being who you are. I’m not afraid to rediscover my natural talents and gifts. I am not a foreigner in my own territory. I am the lunar dog of my soul, and I’m free to be.

To live is to grow, and grow to accept that all forms of life can be our teachers. Just ask his guidance. My hands cling to the fur of the wolf, and he walks beside me. The wolf knows the way.

The path is to be willing to climb mountains, entering forests, hiking in deserts, falling into the abyss and come away with the strength to be who you are. Ready to become your own master. Ready to share the song of the moon with your pack. Ready to become  One with the moon.

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Dragon’s-blood

I amDaenerys, born in the Storm, daughter of Dragons, Dragons’ bride, mother of Dragons – Daenerys Targaryen¹

Sometimes you have to be the dragon, opening your mighty wings and spit creative  fire to win one of the largest predators of the human being: the impotence, i.e. the inability to action. Bring down the walls of fear that keep us from winning our territory, our destiny and our dreams. Achieve the courage to completely change our lives and leave behind stories of the past do not bring us peace, but rather concerns.

If I look back, I am lost. – Daenerys Targaryen¹

In Celtic tradition dragons are representatives the forces of living nature, the creative fire. They are the creator gods of earth, and represent the protection of the sacred feminine, the earth, the soul, the treasures of  experienced spiritually life, the ancient wisdom that liberates and lifts us. They are the guardians of purity, those who invoke the courage and the necessary bravery  to rescue what is really important and valuable to us².
The Dragon also was represented for a long time like evil in the world, a powerful and destructive side, being seen as the shadow side of human beings, one side of us that is important to know so we can dominate and transcend².
However, for the Celts there was no life without death, no peace without war. The creation and destruction are interdependent processes, there is an absence of life in the darkness of the earth which receives the dead, but is also the dark earth which houses and promotes the flowering of the seeds. Each  being brings in itself these elements and through its perception we see  the need for balance. Only by knowing our dark and wild faces , taming it, we become aware of our complexity, well knowing our true divine nature³.

He was the dragon. Fire can not kill a dragon. I am the blood of the dragon. Daenerys Targaryen¹

Sometimes we need to remember that we are the dragon’s blood,  that fire can not kill a dragon. Fire is the transformative energy that in the material level generates passion, desire, procreation and physical vitality. On the emotional level generates dreams, ambition, creativity and courage. On the mental plane generates intelligence, power, charisma and leadership ability. When the energy of the fire reaches the spiritual plane, it becomes wisdom, understanding and sense of belonging to the whole. Being a dragon is to invoke the inner fire, the creative flame, cauterization and healing. The flame of transmutation and transpersonal power of creation.

For the first time in hundreds of years the night came alive with the music of the dragons – Game of Thornes¹

Dragons are the guardians of the archaic feminine spirit that exists in every woman and that is expressed in greater or lesser degree as a protective behavior, instinctive, impulsive, courageous, combative, seductive and fertile. And the spirit of courage, independence and determination _ the strength of character that they demonstrate through their actions in a world still predominantly patriarchal.

Sometimes you need  awake the dragon, activating their personal power and connecting yourself with your determination, assertiveness, resilience, fighting spirit and fearlessness, characteristics of these magical beings that will assist us in our personal and spiritual growth.
To find your inner dragon is necessary to create and project an aura of trust, confidence, pride and invulnerability, paying attention to the subtle invasion of your space, to provocation or lack of respect for your choices, or for the expression of your  magnetism personal, acts that if are accepted passively weaken the true essence of being. But also you should realize  if you not being overly aggressive or hostile, with a sister when she gets hold of her personal power and defend her ideals, dreams and values, whatever path she is treading⁴.
Invoking the help and strength of the dragon also requires the courage to change, because they are the lords of the transformer fire. They teach us that change and death are part of our lives and behaviors, harmful  values or attitudes to ourselves, our offspring, and to Mother Earth must die, following the dynamic cycle of life.

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Reference

1. Martin, G. R.R. Game of Thones – As Crônicas de Gelo e Fogo.

2. Ferreira, A, I. Dançando com os dragões Available only in Portuguese

3. Faur, M. Deusas celtas, soberanas da terra e da guerra. Available only in Portuguese

4. Faur, M . O Caminho da guerreira. Available only in Portuguese

5. Imagem de Annes Storks

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Fly, Fly, Fly

Absent for about a year, since that day that I received a letter. It took me to the mountains, where my life with the eagles began. Please forgive me for the long silence (Colbert, 2005). This letter breaks that silence, coming together us again in words and thoughts.

That day, while my feet wandered through the columns of the temple, my eyes roamed the lonely mountains. My eyes wandered aimlessly until I saw the wings of freedom, the wings of Harpia1. The sun woke me up, flooding me with light, breaking the darkness of my days. And so my eagle heart began to beat.
We are eagles. We are made for freedom and not for bondage. We have within us the call to the infinite sky, the call of the highest peaks of the mountains. The call for greater achievements, the realization of our being.
Our souls crave sunlight: the integration of our being to the Great Spirit. Our feathers  crave for fly into the impossible, the unreachable and

unimaginable. They want the world that goes beyond the fences that limit our little universe, made with few worldly desires and interests. Our wings desire to break the  complacency, conformity, repetitive thought patterns, raising our minds to a much broader reality (Boff, 1997).

On the wings of the eagle I found that it was not enough just set me free from the shackles that bound me to the ground, fear of the unknown, the safety of ordinary life. But as the eagle had to release me for: to carry out my capabilities for the performance of my own destiny, to perform my nature eagle (Boff, 1997). I realized that I  could also fly and entering the infinite sky, plunging into my own being.
Living with the eagles I realized that our existence is not ready, we should build it continuously. No matter the things that happened, but how we react to them. Decisive are the feelings, values ​​and visions that we make in contact with the adventures and misadventures of our life (Boff, 1997). What matters is the growth that they provide.
Fly. Listen to the song of the eagle seeks the recovery of your soul wild, your creative nature, free and in communion with the Divine. Domestication excessive causes us to be what “others” want us to be, instead of what we really are. The domestication moves us away from our true selves and our destiny. Fly the way of an eagle.
Fly, fly, fly

References and Subtitles

1. The Harpy Eagle (Harpy harpyja) is a Neotropical species of eagle. It is the largest and powerful raptor found in Americas, and the largest extant species of Eagles in the world.  It usually inhabits lowland rainforests in the upper canopy layer. Destruction of its natural habitat hás seen it vanish from many parts of its former range, and it is almost extinct in central America.

2. Colbert, G. 2005. Ashes and Snow, a film by Gregory Colbert, uses both still and movie cameras to explore extraordinary interactions between humans and animals. The 60-minute feature is a poetic narrative rather than a documentary. It aims to lift the natural and artificial barriers between humans and other species, dissolving the distance that exists between them. Written by Ashes and Snow, http://www.ashesandsnow.org/

3. Boff, L. 1997. The eagle and the chicken. A metaphor of the human condition. Publisher Voices. Petropolis, Brazil. Only available in Portuguese

Eagle and the Chicke

Leonard Boff

A fable is told about an eagle who thought he was a chicken. When the eagle was very small, he fell from the safety of his nest.  A chicken farmer found the eagle, brought him to the farm, and raised him in a chicken coop among his many chickens. The eagle grew up doing what chickens do, living like a chicken, and believing he was a chicken.    A naturalist came to the chicken farm to see if what he had heard about an eagle acting like a chicken was really true.  He knew that an eagle is king of the sky.  He was surprised to see the eagle strutting around the chicken coop, pecking at the ground, and acting very much like a chicken.  The farmer explained to the naturalist that this bird was no longer an eagle.  He was now a chicken because he had been trained to be a chicken and he believed that he was a chicken.

The naturalist knew there was more to this great bird than his actions showed as he “pretended” to be a chicken.  He was born an eagle and had the heart of an eagle, and nothing could change that.  The man lifted the eagle onto the fence surrounding the chicken coop and said,  “Eagle, thou art an eagle.  Stretch forth thy wings and fly.”  The eagle moved slightly, only to look at the man; then he glanced down at his home among the chickens in the chicken coop where he was comfortable.  He jumped off the fence and continued doing what chickens do.  The farmer was satisfied. “I told you it was a chicken,” he said.

The naturalist returned the next day and tried again to convince the farmer and the eagle that the eagle was born for something greater.  He took the eagle to the top of the farmhouse and spoke to him: “Eagle, thou art an eagle.  Thou dost belong to the sky and not to the earth.  Stretch forth thy wings and fly.” The large bird looked at the man, then again down into the chicken coop.  He jumped from the man’s arm onto the roof of the farmhouse. Knowing what eagles are really about, the naturalist asked the farmer to let him try one more time.  He would return the next day and prove that this bird was an eagle.  The farmer, convinced otherwise, said, “It is a chicken.”.

The naturalist returned the next morning to the chicken farm and took the eagle and the farmer some distance away to the foot of a high mountain.  They could not see the farm nor the chicken coop from this new setting.  The man held the eagle on his arm and pointed high into the sky where the bright sun was beckoning above.  He spoke: “Eagle, thou art an eagle!  Thou dost belong to the sky and not to the earth.  Stretch forth thy wings and fly.” This time the eagle stared skyward into the bright sun, straightened his large body, and stretched his massive wings.  His wings moved, slowly at first, then surely and powerfully.  With the mighty screech of an eagle, he flew.

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