Saturday, June 23, 2012

This Crafting Is


This crafting is part of the process of turning something into a work of art. I think many people today do not realize what it means to be an artist, instead of simply a person who is writing. I mean, there is a craft and an attitude and a willingness to recognize that, unless it is in form, it is not art.

- Joseph Campbell, Reflections on the Art of Living

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This crafting, this honing, this turning, this living is a stripe without end. It never ends. No, it never ends. It never ends. It is before you, behind you: ancient and unborn. You, your thisness, your thingness, your nowness, are to be turned as on a lathe, brought to form, fashioned, hammered, fired, broken and remade. It is in being brought to form that your work becomes your art, your life a work of art.

Refusing to be honed, turned, crafted and worked into the shape, color, tenor, of your possibility is to deny the endless stripe, the endless river, the endless snake, the endless road. Forever outside. Forever hungry. Forever longing. Hell, they say is not a furnace, but the distance you stake yourself from the God you pray to.

This crafting of a life is a process you must submit to in order to discover the endless spark, ignition, fire of the god within you, that has always been part of you - just as it is there if you lift a rock or split a stick. Whether you decide to sacrifice your ease, your sorrows, your confusion, your shallow desires or not is immaterial. The stripe is without end. It never ends. No, it never ends. Only you do and the good you could have done for yourself, your beloveds, your time will have passed on: the omission undetectable.

The loss is yours and no one else's.

Change your life into the life within you and no other. A craft, an attitude, a willingness to engage the materials at hand, submission to the impulse to build, to create, to serve that craft, that attitude, that willingness: the holy fire that burns if you but let it. Get out of your head, get out of your way and take the facts of your life and work them, work with them, use them - they are your raw materials - and build from there. There is a lesson you must learn: you have all you need right now. Always have. Always will. It is a question, a function of accepting the reality you cannot change, and acting from the one you can: your thoughts, your words, your deeds.

And you will be changed.
You will be turned as on a lathe: chisel, clamp and edge.
New.
Emergent.

Unless you are in form, in the form only you can occupy, then your life is wormfood only. But this crafting this honing this turning this living is just for you, a gift you give yourself on the way to your grave. The stripe is ancient and unborn. It never ends. No, it never ends. It never ends. This submission is you submitting to your soul, your body, your anger at it being so, your forgiveness for it being so. Change your life into this life, your life, your honed, hammered, fashioned, builded life.

Death is our common cause. Living must be earned. Tend the fire. Live by it.

All is well if the fire remains: freedom, responsibility - a lifted melody. And that, too, never ends. No, it never ends. It never ends.

* * *

Boom.

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