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The Man In Black

February 4

Yesterday, while looking for something else, I came across a DVD that had gone missing for quite a long time. It was The Best of the Johnny Cash TV Show. This show aired from 1969-1971, when the country was more deeply divided than it had been since the Civil War. The Vietnam War had torn apart the fabric of our country, the peace movement did not serve to bring things together. Kent State laid bare the senselessness of extremity. But in the midst of this all, when TV could still be reality, there was Johnny Cash, each week bringing together, white and black, rich and poor, men and women, all genres of music in an ongoing celebration of difference and the healing qualities of recognizing the value of each and every one. I remember those shows, watched them avidly, and felt the power of music as the universal language and the power of the “Man in Black” to show the way.

In watching the DVD today, of these shows from nearly 50 years ago, I felt relief for 100 minutes, relief not easy to come by these days, amidst the purposive destruction of so much of value. It was good medicine and I highly recommend it.

Introducing Jung to China

January 31
Robert Henderson interviewed me on my perspective of introducing Jung to China. Here is the interview:
 

The Demoralized Mind

January 31

This article is good medicine for what is an increasingly incurable state of demoralization.

1 Year Ago

See Your Memorieschevron-right

Essential reading for understanding and navigating cultural insanity:

"The Demoralized Mind," by John Schumaker. Here is the link:

The demoralized mind
John F Schumaker asks how we can treat our sick culture and make ourselves well.
NEWINT.ORG

Saved By A Poem

January 28

Following the posting of the Langston Hughes poem, "Let America Be America Again," I'm prompted to repost my interview with Kim Rosen, author of "Saved By A Poem." To my mind, this is a kind of survival manual for our time. Here is the link:

Let America Be America Again

January 28

One of my favorite magazines is THE SUN. It is deliciously deep with no fluff, no advertising. I read it from cover to cover and it is always an enriching experience. One  issue republished Langston Hughes' poem "Let America Be America Again," originally published in 1935. I had read it before many years ago, but it has hit me like a thunderbolt in reading it now in the context of our present political madness. Please read this poem for your own immunity against what is happening. Here is a link to the poem:

Let America Be America Again
Let America be America again.
POETS.ORG

Paco’s Translation of O Homem do Leme

January 26

Hi all. The translation posted yesterday was incorrectly attributed to Paco. I want to correct this error, so here is Paco's translation. In addition, I have included the Potuguese letra. Enjoy!

The Man at the Helm

 

All alone at night

A light in the darkness shines directly

Obscuring the rest.

 

More than a wave, more than a tide

They tried to arrest him, impose a faith

But, drifting at will, breaking the longing

There goes one who fears nothing, there goes the helmsman.

 

And a desire to laugh, born from the depths of being

And a desire to go, to travel the world and leave,

Life is always to lose.

 

In the depths of the sea

Lie the others, those who were there

In ash-gray days

Eternal rest they found there.

 

And more than a wave, more than a tide,

They tried to arrest him, impose a faith

But, drifting at will, breaking the longing

There goes one who fears nothing, there goes the helmsman.

 

And a desire to laugh, born from the depths of being

And a desire to go, to travel the world and leave,

Life is always to lose.

 

On the background of the horizon

The murmur blows where it will

In the depths of time

 

And a desire to laugh, born from the depths of being

And a desire to go, to travel the world and leave,

Life is always to lose.

 

(Paco’s Translation)

 

O Homem Do Leme

Sozinho na noite
Um barco ruma para onde vai.
Uma luz no escuro brilha a direito
Ofusca as demais

E mais que uma onda, mais que uma maré
Tentaram prendê-lo impor-lhe uma fé
Mas, vogando à vontade, rompendo a saudade
Vai quem já nada teme, vai o homem do leme

E uma vontade de rir, nasce do fundo do ser
E uma vontade de ir, correr o mundo e partir
A vida é sempre a perder

No fundo do mar
Jazem os outros, os que lá ficaram
Em dias cinzentos
Descanso eterno lá encontraram

E mais que uma onda, mais que uma maré
Tentaram prendê-lo, impor-lhe uma fé
Mas, vogando à vontade, rompendo a saudade
Vai quem já nada teme, vai o homem do leme

E uma vontade de rir, nasce do fundo do ser
E uma vontade de ir, correr o mundo e partir
A vida é sempre a perder

No fundo horizonte
Sopra o murmúrio para onde vai
No fundo do tempo
Foge o futuro, é tarde demais

E uma vontade de rir nasce do fundo do ser
E uma vontade de ir, correr o mundo e partir
A vida é sempre a perder

SONG

January 25

Song

You know those songs that get stuck in your head and go around and around and at some point disappear as if they had fallen off a cliff? These round and rounds are called "earworms." My current problem is not an earworm, but a repeating desire to hear a particular song. The song doesn't stick in my head like an earworm, but the desire to hear it is Velcroed there. I don't know if there is a technical term for this, but it is insistent, named or not. So I listen again and again. I listen to O Homem do Leme by various performers. My favorite and current object of obsession is the version that Mariza and Tim did at the 2012 Rock in Rio Lisbon Festival in Lisbon, Portugal (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTq9W6IblGY).

Who knows why these things happen? I don't, but I do know they are important. Is it the beat? The melody? The lyrics? It's something of all these, I think, together, forming some kind of whole that sparks something in me that wants (desires) to be with it, immersed in it, moving with it. I know it's Portuguese Fado. I know Mariza is my favorite Fado voice. But not knowing Portuguese, I did not know what the words were saying.

I sent the lyrics Paco and he immediately sent back a beautiful translation. Even before I knew what the magical Portuguese said, I knew that some of the lines and verses were functioning like mysterious rays penetrating deep into me.

Here is Paco's translation:

THE WHEEL MAN

Alone in the night
A boat courses to where it goes.
A light in the dark shines ahead
Obfuscates the rest

And more than one wave, more that one tide
They tried to arrest him impose him a faith
But, sailing to the will, breaking the longing(=saudade)
Goes the one who fears nothing else, goes the wheel man

And a will to smile, is born from the bottom of the being
And a will to go, run the world and leave
Life is allways losing

In the bottom of the sea
Lie the others, the ones who there stayed
In grey days
Eternal rest they found there

And more than one wave, more that one tide
They tried to arrest him impose him a faith
But, sailing to the will, breaking the longing(=saudade)
Goes the one who fears nothing else, goes the wheel man

And a will to smile, is born from the bottom of the being
And a will to go, run the world and leave
Life is allways losing

In the deep horizon
Blows the murmur to where he goes
In the deep of time
Flees the future, it's too late

And a will to smile, is born from the bottom of the being
And a will to go, run the world and leave
Life is always losing

 

It's next to last verse of the lettra that got me even before I knew what it was. And now? I'll let you know.

Another Kind of Blue

January 23

Another Kind of Blue

and and and and and and
fffft ffft fffsssss

First Aide: Whoa girl, you're drinking from a pail…not good.


Second Aide: She's wet herself.


cat's tail, monkey's mail, all hail the third rail argghhhhhh


Policeman: she's not making any sense


cracks in facts
artifacts for sealing wax


Social worker: She presents as a 30-year old delusion.


black in white not polite
give me candlelight


Doctor: No, it's chlorpromazine for you young lady.


lights out no doubt
hey doc wanna gawk a hawk a fauk


Nurse: Room seven will be available shortly.


i'm an alternator for the dictator
i'm a leading indicator
ok ok I'm outa here
hear

Silver, Change, Imagination

January 20

Jungian analyst Russell Lockhart presents notions of the meaning of money as it relates to the imagination, complexes, the Self, and the dark side of life. He presents his reflections on Bernie Madoff and Ponzi schemes, and speculates where "money as god" is leading us.

This essay is now available at http://ralockhart.com/WP/SilverChangeImagination.pdf

Sickness Afoot

January 19

Sickness Afoot

The Parliament of Owls is in session
But we cannot see their eyes
Their heads are looking behind them
Because owls do not move their eyes

What's coming comes from behind
It's not what is clearly seen, so visible now
It's the sickness afoot, the sickness coming
That's what the owls are looking for now

Sickness is afoot, evil's in full view
Sickness is afoot, where is our guide?
Sickness is afoot, what to do? What to do?
Sickness is afoot, where resides the guide?

Leonard wrote that magic is afoot
And Buffy sang his words
Leonard wrote that God is alive
And Buffy sang is words

But now, sickness is afoot,
And evil is alive, and where is our guide?
Sing the song that's in your dream
Dreams of the night will be our guide!

---------
A Note…

In the dream I saw owls sitting on branches of a tree.
No eyes could be seen as they were all looking behind
them. A sound began to rise, I think it was from the owls,
singing the line, "Sickness is afoot." As I woke, I started
hearing Buffy St. Marie singing Leonard Cohen's words
from his book, "Beautiful Losers."

Dreams have to do with the future. Our conscious intentions
as well as our hopes are all formed from what we know,
from what is past. The owls know what is coming. Look to
dreams to provide the hints.

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