a little bird.... - piosenka

A little bird, is chirping
In the cold winter air
She's crying for her mother
Whose flown off somewhere

Mama's on the mountain top
Looking down from so far away
To the lake beneath her
Where her baby prays

And oh how the night comes
It takes the child by surprise
Out here in blue-gray
Winter skies

The moon appears before her
Was it there a moment ago?
It's shining like a river
A far and distant glow

It's calling out to her
With a smile, that lights the night
Guiding her through the, nameless-path
And holding her so tight

And oh how the night comes
It takes the child by surprise
Out here in blue-gray
Winter skies


(+++)

Sticky Tape --- "a silly poem"

Sticky Tape
I took out the tape
To seal up the box
But when I pulled on the roll
It suddenly stuck to my watch!

I tried to neatly unstick it
But it got even worse
This increasingly chewy, unruly, mass of gunk
Was now sticking to my purse

I tried to pull it off
But it clung on tight
"One more pull" I muttered bravely
And yanked it with all my might

Oh, it got away
Taking half the fabric, in its wake
The sticky parts were now spotted red
And it was all matted, twisted, and caked

Parts wound around other parts
Big globs and skinny strands
This lurking mass stuck to whatever it neared
Including now, my hands

"Now I'm really mad," I thought
And (unlike me) began to shout
"You stupid piece of tape!
Why didn't you just slide right out?!"

I decided to be a warrior
And win this ugly war
I prepared myself for battle
And was sure I would endure

By the time it was all over
I lay exhausted and weak
I was enveloped in the sticky stuff
From my head to my feet

The moral of the story
Is now easy to see
The gift I thought I was sending
Turned out to be me!

Truck Driver's Song...

The other day I was feeling moody and irritable and unsatis­fied with my writing. I imagined my mood as a very down-to-earth truck-driver puppet who insisted that my writing and ideas about creativity were just "fairy stuff." Hmm, this pattern seems to be repeating itself! In any case, this truck driver just drives, loads, unloads, drinks coffee, eats hamburgers, and drives some more. He said:


I'm a truck driver
I drive all day and all night
I just drive this truck
And once in a while get in a fight

The other drivers drive me crazy
But I'm the commander of this deal
And I eat a hamburger and fries
At every single meal

I pickup a load
And haul it around
I'm tough and macho
And really on the ground

Not like, these flakes
Who play music and sing songs
They have no feet, no meat, no muscle
They're just airy-fairy and wrong

I got to put them in order
I want to put them on the ground
Make them get it all firm
Safe and fit and sound

Piosenka dzieciaka

One evening I also discovered a child hidden within my moodiness. I was trying to prepare a class that I was going to give the following week, but I felt too tired to work on all the details that it entailed. I felt frustrated and kind of grumbly. In order to express this mood, I made a grinding sort of sound with my voice and imagined an infuriated child who didn't want to have any responsibility and who just wanted to play! I began to act like this wild kid, stomping around, making mean faces, and began singing the following bratty tune:

I'm gonna be a kid to the day I die
Cause I want the freedom to scream and cry!
I'm gonna spill my milk and make a mess
And you know me, I'll never confess!
It's a bad bad world when you have to be
A grown up who acts with grace and dignity
What a bunch of junk and hype
I'd rather be the mischievous trickster type!
So give me my toys I want 'em now
Or you know who will begin to howl!
Gimme, gimme, it's all mine
I want it all, all the time!

Critics and Big Energy

The bee was buzzing
Buzz, swat, buzz
Bugging and critizing me
Till I looked closer
To see what it was
A raging figure
Full of colors, energy and might
Coulldn't I use its intensity to create
Instead of enduring yet another
Miserable night?

When I did this exercise the other day, I put the plate up to my face and felt my head go backward and imagined myself turning upside down. I felt like a little girl who was standing on her head, seeing the world from upside-down. This really changed my per­ception and feeling about things! I felt I was closer to the plant world and that everything in the ordinary right-side-up world seemed much more serious and linear than it needed to be. I made a very big mask. In. fact when I looked through its upside-down eyes, the mask extended upward about four feet over my head! I wore this mask and wrote the following poem:

Seeing the wortd from upside down
The top of my head, stuck in the ground
Toes reaching upward, toward the sky
Watching from lelow as the world passes by
It's another place when you're upside down
Everything looks crazy, the other way 'round
Now the blood, rushes to my mind
And that's what it's like, to step out of time.


Everyday Mask and Dream Mask Interaction

We all wear masks every day. In Process Work we call our every­day mask our primary process, our ordinary identity. Most often we don't realize we have it on! Our primary process is not totally conscious. It happens to us and becomes an automatic long-term pattern—but it is certainly not the whole of us.
Frequently, our primary process is not connected with our deeper dreaming experiences. That's why we often feel out of sync with ourselves.

Lalki i flirty....

A to z historii o lalkach i flirtach w domu...


The first time I spontaneously expercienced this exercice was when I created Groucho Gloom, whom I mentioned in the Intro­duction. Groucho started out as a book that caught my attention and turned into a snapping, moody version of Groucho Marx, in book form. Groucho expressed himself further in a very long poem that went on at great length. He had a lot to say and he was deter­mined to finally say it all! I'll spare you much of the details, but here are a couple of stanzas.

Oh yes you bet I'mgrouchy
Wouldn't you Be?
If you Were stuck on a shelf
for a year or maybe three?
Squeezed between others
Smooshed so I can't take a breath
Stuffed and mildewed
Like an early, unwanted death!

You think I'm worthless
Because I'm just a book
So you stick me here for eons,
But do you know how long it took?

To create my binding,
My pages and ink?
Not to mention the brilliant
Thoughts that I think!


What meaning could Groucho have for my life? He helped support my ability to formulate theory and think things out clearly—which I am sometimes uncertain of!
I had another very interesting experience doing this exercise with "inanimate" materials. I recently learned about stop-motion animation5 in which you can take a series of still photos of a subject and play them back in a way that gives the impression that the material is moving by itself. Once I realized that it was possible to

The Mother of Our Country

A to jest piosenka postaci z Esencji, która śpiewa tak jak poniżej:

The Essence is like the earth that is always there for us, yet whose presence we do not always pay attention to. It is like a seed from which the plants grow, the origin of the Inten­tional Field, and the mother of manifest things.

The Essence and Art

When I was creating my musical puppet theater in which all of the puppets speak about their deepest longings and what they want to be "when they grow up, an Essence figure arose who wanted to be "The Mother of Our Country." She represents the loving earth and sings:

I'll Be a home, to the courageous
and the ones who run scared
I'll be a home to the animals
From the mountains to the air
I'll Be the mother of our country
from the mountains to the seas
The earth that we walk on
that allows us to be.

She embodies the nondualistic world that is beneath the polar­ities of Consensus Reality and Dreamland, the common ground that we share. This common ground, "the Tao that can't be said," can be difficult to formulate. Yet when I sing or listen to that song, I feel I am able to connect with this open and generative well-spring.
Just as the Essence goes by various names in psychology and religion, such as spirit, oneness, and the transpersonal, I have been excited to discover that it is also described in a variety of art forms. In the next pages I'd like to share a few of these artistic Essence descriptions with you that I have been studying. At the end of this chapter, I mention a few practical methods aimed at getting to the deep Essence behind our experiences; later we will apply these methods in some of the exercises.

Agnieszka Kramm zaproponowała poniższą wersję spolszczenia "Matki naszej ziemi" - przy okazji, ta piosenka w wykonaniu AMY była obecna na You Tube:

I'll Be a home, to the courageous
and the ones who run scared
I'll be a home to the animals
From the mountains to the air
I'll Be the mother of our country
from the mountains to the seas
The earth that we walk on
that allows us to be.



Będę domem dla odważnych

I dla przerażonych

Będę domem dla zwierząt

Tych górskich i tych uskrzydlonych

Będę matką naszej ziemi

Od morza po góry

Ziemią którą wędrujemy

Która pozwala nam być (która daje nam życie?)

Z piosenki na początku ... w "The Intentional Field"

I don't know where fate will find me
On the road, when darkness fills the air
But I feel you right behind me
Always there
Trees are swaying in the starlight
As the moon flashes eyerywhere
I'm not alone in the wilderness
You're always there
Always there

(from my song "Always There")