The day we moved outside on Prapto's land, starting from the steps, I finished up by Maria. For some reason I was feeling a bit guilty about not having visited her at any point during the week. With hindsight, it seems appropriate to have been feeling guilty about Maria. I looked up Catholic Guilt and found that the technical term for it is scrupulosity, derived (like the word scruple) from the Latin scrupulum -- a sharp stone.
Apparently Martin Luther had it bad. I read that:
"he suffered from obsessive doubts; in his mind, his omitting the word enim ("for") during the Eucharist was as horrible as laziness, divorce, or murdering one's parent."
Crikey.
Anyway, I was at Maria's grotto when a very large, very dark blue butterfly appeared and settled on the rocks at the edge of her grotto. I froze, so as not to disturb the butterfly or frighten it off. Such a precious moment... mustn't waste it by greedily moving too close. So I waited. And waited. Eventually, concerned that this was movement practice and I was trying not to blink, never mind cart my whole body around, I moved a little closer, thinking that the butterfly would be startled into flight. It stayed, as still as a dinghy on the Dead Sea. I inspected it carefully, emitting tiny internal gasps, as if to make sure that I realised how beautiful this butterfly was.(Just as one mutters 'wow' to one's companion when watching an awesome sunset, so that they will know that you're appreciating it properly.)
Apparently Martin Luther had it bad. I read that:
"he suffered from obsessive doubts; in his mind, his omitting the word enim ("for") during the Eucharist was as horrible as laziness, divorce, or murdering one's parent."
Crikey.
Anyway, I was at Maria's grotto when a very large, very dark blue butterfly appeared and settled on the rocks at the edge of her grotto. I froze, so as not to disturb the butterfly or frighten it off. Such a precious moment... mustn't waste it by greedily moving too close. So I waited. And waited. Eventually, concerned that this was movement practice and I was trying not to blink, never mind cart my whole body around, I moved a little closer, thinking that the butterfly would be startled into flight. It stayed, as still as a dinghy on the Dead Sea. I inspected it carefully, emitting tiny internal gasps, as if to make sure that I realised how beautiful this butterfly was.(Just as one mutters 'wow' to one's companion when watching an awesome sunset, so that they will know that you're appreciating it properly.)
Prapto said "slowly, slowly" and I began to feel anxious. I needed to finish but didn't want to leave the butterfly. I move briskly, knowing it would be alarmed. Moved my head to within inches of it. Not a flicker. Had it died? Oh god, what would that mean? No, surely it would fall over if it had died? Perhaps it had specially sticky feet that would hold it upright? No,because then it would get stuck to things.
Then, moving on the stones in front of the temple at Kalasan, exploring just a few of them, placing my feet clearly, becoming more confident, seeing how to look up and at the horizon while confidently stepping on these stones, a dragonfly joined me. It settled beside me, over a minute or so became completely stationary, and then stayed like that for almost ten minutes. After a little while studying it, and reminded of the butterfly at Maria's grotto, I began to move without worrying about disturbing this jewel of a creature. It was still there as we moved back to gather round Prapto after the exercise.
Then, moving on the stones in front of the temple at Kalasan, exploring just a few of them, placing my feet clearly, becoming more confident, seeing how to look up and at the horizon while confidently stepping on these stones, a dragonfly joined me. It settled beside me, over a minute or so became completely stationary, and then stayed like that for almost ten minutes. After a little while studying it, and reminded of the butterfly at Maria's grotto, I began to move without worrying about disturbing this jewel of a creature. It was still there as we moved back to gather round Prapto after the exercise.
Finally, at Goa Gajah, I went to move by the pool and was joined by two sapphire blue dragonflies. They stopped long enough for me to observe and then moved on a little, Just a few inches. They rested for long periods with their wings tilted forward. At first it looked uncomfortable but they obviously were happy with it, so I tried. Tilted my wings forwards. It was OK. I felt a curious surge of pleasure at discovering the action.
After some time moving with them, having at first hurried to seize the moment in case they flew away, I began to relax. I could move away a little and come back, sure to find the dragonflies. I briefly wondered what this series of events (butterfly, dragonfly, dragonflies) could mean, then came to my senses and realised that it didn't mean anything. If I wanted to attach meaning to the events, then I could. But Mrs Universe had not instructed the insects to visit my movement sessions at Morning Briefing that day.
Still, I wondered if Prapto had sent them.
It seems that there's some balance to be found between "carpe diem" where thecarpe means to pluck, seize or snatch and trusting that wonderful things will endure long enough for you not to have to pluck, seize or snatch them. For me it relates to the weather. I still feel quite unsettled on a beautiful summer's day in England, feel I must "make the most of it", get out into it, enjoy it. Because later on it may be raining. The Indonesian climate cured me of this almost instantly. It would be raining later, almost certainly, but it would still be as hot as a blanket tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. I could relax.
After some time moving with them, having at first hurried to seize the moment in case they flew away, I began to relax. I could move away a little and come back, sure to find the dragonflies. I briefly wondered what this series of events (butterfly, dragonfly, dragonflies) could mean, then came to my senses and realised that it didn't mean anything. If I wanted to attach meaning to the events, then I could. But Mrs Universe had not instructed the insects to visit my movement sessions at Morning Briefing that day.
Still, I wondered if Prapto had sent them.
It seems that there's some balance to be found between "carpe diem" where thecarpe means to pluck, seize or snatch and trusting that wonderful things will endure long enough for you not to have to pluck, seize or snatch them. For me it relates to the weather. I still feel quite unsettled on a beautiful summer's day in England, feel I must "make the most of it", get out into it, enjoy it. Because later on it may be raining. The Indonesian climate cured me of this almost instantly. It would be raining later, almost certainly, but it would still be as hot as a blanket tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. I could relax.
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