Thursday, April 25, 2013

love is beyond categories< no astrology, no eneagram, no sexual types

One of the best books on love is also one of the shortest and smallest. It’s by Anthony DeMello and it’s called the Way of Love, and it could fit in your back pocket.
Anathony DeMello was a Jesuit priest who deeply understood the sacredness of the present, and in this book he starts each small section with a quote from the New Testament and then proceeds to illuminate one or another facet of love.
Unfortunately, I’ve given away all my copies, but in one essay he defines love is forgetting of everything you have to say about or categorize about the other person: rich, poor, pretty, ugly, man woman, good bad.
Just see them, accept them, feel them as BEING right now, as they are.

You ask why I don’t put my astrological sign.
Because I have seen very few, almost no people, use categories to truly have deeper love and compassion for people.
Many years ago, I was in on the eneagram before it even go to Helem Palmer. It is a brilliant system, with nine “ego types,” each with three subcategories, and people actually look and act certain ways in all twenty seven slots. It was incredibly accurate in predicting people and an almost irresistible way for people to separate and judge and stay free from really seeing the present person in front of them.

I am an Aries. I have some characteristics. Others I don’t have. I read a book once telling every single day of the year, and my day, April 13, was in the week of the Pioneer and the day was that of the Iconoclast. Me and Thomas Jefferson. Kind of true. A lot true, and still, not me.

In a group I’m in there are three sexual subtypes according to how they deal with tumescence: hyper volatile , dissipated, fixed. And there are a range of stages of orgasm: turn on, climax, restoration, recovery, stillness, and so on. People here, too, seem to almost just about totally fit into one slot or another.
And then a certain sort of soul murder takes place, or at least a blindness to the parts that don’t fit.

This can be people seeing themselves, or seeing others, and then the mess of how do we really relate to a real live messy, changeable, now one thing now another human dissolved down to Aries and Scorpio. Or six and two. Or volatile and dissipated.

So, these categories sort of work, and sort of / a lot shield us from the confusing unknown of what another person is.

So, that’s a start.
Here’s the main astrology I listen to, if I were to listen to that, Rob Brevsky’s Free Will Astrology.
Here’s me for this week:
Aries: “How we react to the sound of the wind gives clues to our temperament, said philosopher Theodor W. Adorno. The unhappy person thinks of "the fragility of his house and suffers from shallow sleep and violent dreams." But for the happy person, the wind sings "the song of protectedness: its furious howling concedes that it has power over him no longer." I bring this up to illustrate a point about your life. There will be a strong and vivid influence coming your way that is like the wind as described by Adorno. It's neither bad nor good in itself, but may seem like one or the other depending on the state of mind you choose to cultivate.”

And you:
Scorpio: “Let's imagine ourselves near the snowy summit of Washington's Mount Rainier. We're in an unusual kind of cave. Volcanic steam rises from cracks in the rocky floor. Above us is a roof made of ice. As we stand between the heat and the chill, we find the temperature quite cozy. The extremes collaborate to produce a happy medium. Can you accomplish something in your life that's similar to what's going on in this cave? Metaphorically, I mean? I think you can.”

That being all said, the most tumultuous relationship of my life, screaming, thrown coffee cups, her chasing me naked out to a busy street to continue arguing, clothes out the window,
And one of the mildest, most serene, both gardening and bike riding and sleeping outdoors for weeks on end on our deck in Sonoma.
Both with a scorpio.

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