Showing posts with label tricksters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tricksters. Show all posts

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Love a troll

You’re all on the internet. You all know the creed.  Don’t feed the trolls.  Good advice huh?  Because, let’s face it, if you starve something it usually dies.  Not always, but usually.  But…before you go off cold-shouldering and starving, just two thingies…

Thingy One. Not all trolls are trolls and not all trolls are created equal.  You kinda need to know your troll.  Some contrary Internet presences are Loki characters, tricksters. Every mythology, every folk tale has them and they have a job, a very useful job. They stir things up; they challenge the status quo; they give the contrast.  If all is light all the time, it can get dull and boring.  The Trickster doesn’t follow the usual conventional behaviour; the Trickster flouts the rules; the Trickster says what polite society doesn’t say (but sometimes needs to hear).
The Trickster can be cunning, a sneak, a thief. But also – and often – he can be funny, a Joker of course, (and yes, often the joke is scandalous or rude or goes too far).  But the task of the Trickster is a sacred task, by playing games and tricks and telling jokes and poking fun, the Trickster provides the contrast, raises awareness, acts as equalizer, shows up our blind spots, holds up the mirror, pokes us in the eye.
I’m fascinated by the Trickster archetype and have danced with him (interestingly, the Trickster is pretty well always male) in many forms, in many places.  How can I name him, he whose names are legion?  I cannot tell them all but I have called him Anansi, Awakkule, Amaguq, Azeban. Sinbad, Sosruko, Shango, Samedi. Coyote, Kokopelli, Crow. Reynard, Raven, Jobo, Puck.

When someone comes up against me on the Internet (or indeed in real life) I kinda welcome it. Cos so often you end up learning something about yourself.  Sometimes the Trickster will tell you the truth, unvarnished, unpleasant but incontrovertible. And it can take your breath away and hurt like seven shades of hell. But then…you think and feel and, okay so there may be a point there.  Or it shows you a different perspective and I do think it’s good to try to see every witch way around something (it’s one of the reasons I love yoga – all those different ways of seeing the world – seriously, if you turn yourself upside down you do see differently – try it).   
Sometimes, of course, as MaSte points out, the mirror is cracked and you see exactly and clearly what you are not.

Thingy Two. Sometimes a troll is just a troll.  Just a troll?  Why would anyone be a troll, you have to ask yourself...why?  Why is this person shouting, splurging, spilling, splurting, spewing all over the place? Why?  And, if you scrape a little beneath the surface, the answer is nearly always the same. Trolls hurt. Trolls bleed. Every true troll I’ve ever met has acted out of fear, deep hurt and intense self-dislike. So I feel sad for trolls.  Poor troll, squatting under a beautiful bridge, watching people trip-trapping across while he or she is mired in mud.  So, what do you do?  I dunno, it’s up to you.  I still tend to ignore trolls.  Unless I am in the mood for a bit of a game. Just for the craic, of course. J  But, even when I ignore them, and even if I play with them, one thing I always do is send them a big hefty dose of Love.

Cos if you fight negativity with negativity, everyone loses. If you counter negativity with positivity, Hate with Love, the charge dissipates.
Years back I met this fabulous woman called Sue Weston who teaches qi gong and stuff.  She showed me how to use a form of meditation called Tonglen which comes from Tibetan Buddhism.   Follow the link here for a good description of the full practice.
Sue recognized that it was darn tough to move straight to that level of altruism and compassion so she recommended starting like this…

Sit comfortably either on a chair or on the floor with your back straight.
    • Allow yourself to become aware of your breathing. Just observe your breath for about five minutes or try counting twenty-one out breaths.
    • Now visualize someone you love dearly in front of you. As you breathe in, breathe into yourself any pain, upset and anger they might be feeling. Allow yourself to open up to them totally and without stinting.
    • As you breathe out, breathe all that is good in you into them.  Imagine their pain and suffering becoming transformed inside you into healing light - you are not holding their suffering, merely transforming it.
    • Repeat this for around five minutes.
    • You can repeat this with as many people as you like.  Keep practicing until you are really proficient and can feel the healing energy inside you at will.
When you have perfected this you are ready for the next step.  Now, instead of someone you love, imagine someone you dislike or even hate in front of you. Now transform their pain and anger and give them back the pure healing light of Love.  
It’s not just good for them; it’s great for us. As Pema Chödrön, a Tibetan Buddhist nun says : “In particular, to care about other people who are fearful, angry, jealous, overpowered by addictions of all kinds, arrogant, proud, miserly, selfish, mean —you name it— to have compassion and to care for these people, means not to run from the pain of finding these things in ourselves. In fact, one's whole attitude toward pain can change. Instead of fending it off and hiding from it, one could open one's heart and allow oneself to feel that pain, feel it as something that will soften and purify us and make us far more loving and kind...”

"Use what seems like poison as medicine. Use your personal suffering as the path to compassion for all beings.” 

Do I do it all the time?  Nah. I’m no angel. Does my anti-guru?  Nah.  He loses his rag sometimes too. J  But I try…and really, that’s all any of us can do. Right? 

Monday, 2 May 2011

Four questions?

Ah, apologies, my sweet companions of the road. I have left you high and dry. All these bank holidays have befuddled and confaddled me. I am juggling a lot right now and Time is playing tricksy.


But fear not, the Pact remains and the Journey is starting. Who is coming along? Well, every kind of person, I suspect. I love those who trust, so much – the ones who just launched in and waved their hands eagerly in the air - without having a clue where we're going or what we're doing: Louise Nash, Vivienne Tuffnell, Sessha Batto, Mud in the City spring to mind. But then again, I love those who question and those who doubt too. Will every person be sweetness and light? I hope not. There is room for the tricksters and the plain awkward squad as well as the sweet honeys (cos you can’t make pearls without grit).

Must every person be an artist and a bleeding heart? Hell, no. We need someone to make the sandwiches; someone to pitch the tents; someone to tell us when we’re going just too far, going way too bonkers, and that playing hopscotch in the storm in metal gumboots isn’t the brightest idea. Fire alone burns too bright, too fast; Earth alone gets mired in the mud; Water alone seeps and evaporates; Air alone gets spread too thin. We need one another. We need the contrasts.

My lovely niece Sophie (wise Water) came to stay for the weekend and we talked books and music, life and love, spirit and soul. But above all we talked about people and assumptions and generalisations and about jumping to conclusions. We’re so quick to judge, to condemn. Someone on Twitter said he could never countenance talking to a royalist or anyone who wasn’t a socialist. Another said she was going to unfollow anyone who had tweeted about the royal wedding. It’s interesting what pushes our buttons; what makes us decide a person is okay or not.

I’m seeing it again today on Twitter as the world erupts with fevered excitement over the death of Osama bin Laden. It’s that tribal ‘you’re with us or against us’ thing and I confess it puzzles me. I hate terrorism, I really do but I can’t punch the air at a man’s death; no, not even his death. Hate the acts, not the person, surely?

Anyhow. I told Sophie how one of the most wonderful experiences I have ever had was going on silent retreat for a week. I hadn’t a clue what people did ‘for a living’ or any of the mundane facts about their lives. I just got a sense of them from – what? – intuition? A feeling? Heart?  Soul?  I snatched clues too from their images – some of us painted (obsessively in my case) in the studio. At the end of the week I felt extremely close to a few people. When we talked, I found my favourite people were, variously, a psychiatrist, a surgeon, a nun, unemployed. All titles that come laden with preconceptions.  Halleluyah - we’d by-passed all that crap.  We knew one another as people, as fellow 'pilgrims'.

‘We ask the wrong questions,’ I said to Sophie.
‘I hate that we’re defined by what we do,’ she replied.
‘It’s always the same four questions, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘What do you do? Where do you live/come from? Are you single/partnered? Have you got children?’ I suppose we’re trying to pin people down – to fit them in boxes?
‘What are the questions we should ask,’ I pondered. ‘If we really want to know what makes a person tick at a deeper level?’
‘Questions that open up stories, I think,’ said Sophie. ‘Questions that stir emotions.’

We debated this for so long we lost track of time and Sophie nearly missed her train. We didn’t really come up with any concrete answers either. But we sort of roughed out these for starters...

• Which is your favourite sense? If you could only experience the world through one sense which would it be?
• Which piece of art (music, book, poem, film, TV show, performance etc) most rocked your world?
• Your house is on fire – all people, animals and vital documents are safe – what one thing do you rescue?
• If you were a god/dess, which one would you be?

Did we pick good questions? What would you pick? What are your answers to these four?