Apocalypse Now. Definitely Maybe.

"The promise of a recovery of a long-lost Golden Age reverberates through countless myths. The heart-chord it strikes has inspired visionaries and idealists from time immemorial. As well, it fuels a healthy discontent – the flip side of modern anxiety – that refuses to believe that this is the best we can do. It is an indignation, a muted outrage that can be allayed temporarily by comforts and luxuries, that can be subdued, temporarily, by survival anxiety, that is always strongest in the young, and that lies latent in all of us, ever-ready to be roused into a crusading idealism, though often coopted toward the perpetuation of the very conditions that give it rise. It is my purpose, dear reader, to give voice to your indignation and to reaffirm your intuitive knowledge that life is meant to be more."

From "Waiting for the Big One" by Charles Eisenstein, Reality Sandwich

Continuing from yesterday's post, I simply had to draw attention to another really great pick from the web magazine Reality Sandwich, which puts the current spike in 2012 and apocalyptic fervor into perspective.

I'd like to say Eisenstein offers good news. But he doesn't. At least, not exactly. What he offers is hope and a certain 'realistic' or 'grounded' line of approach to what he believes is the inevitable: the breakdown of life as we know it. Which would be pretty darn depressing if he didn't also add the following:

"Today we already can catch a glimpse of the technologies-social forms as well as paradigms of material production-of a future in love with life, which encompasses the love of being alive as well as the love of living beings. They are the technologies of sun, soil, and water, of bioenergy and rhythm, light and sound, word and touch, mind and dreaming, matter and information. All of them arise from and embody a different understanding of self and world. Just as present-day social forms and technologies both spring from and reinforce separation, 21st century technology will be both a cause and an effect of separation's reversal-a very different understanding of the universe articulated on every level from psychology to cosmology. As our crises intensify we will be faced with new choices and new possibilities. Let us recognize the full ramifications and full power of the choices that will soon open up to us."

You can read the full article here.

Oh, and on a not-so-very-related note (my Aquarius Mercury and Mars apologise), earlier this evening I learned (via the excellent NorthNodeastrology blog - checkitout) of a good place to go if you want to do something about the apalling suffering of women in sexual violence-ridden Congo. You know exactly the sort of despicable and cruel acts I mean - rape, mutilation and murder. In light of this ongoing barbarity, please consider going to Women for Women International, which is an organization committed to providing "financial and emotional" support to women "on the margins of hope", either to make a donation or sponsor an individual rape victim directly.

Of Myths and Babies

As a child, when the advent of video tape and watching films in the comfort of one's own home was still relatively new, I remember being fascinated by the fairytale world of George Cukor's The Blue Bird (1976) starring Elizabeth Taylor and Jane Fonda. It was a sort of a fantasy precursor to Jim Henson's wildly popular cult hit Labyrinth (1986) starring David Bowie and a young Jennifer Connelly.

In both movies, young people must travel through magical, often dangerous kingdoms where none of the ordinary rules of life they have learned, apply. Time bends, places shift, ultimate fears are confronted and, at the end of the quest, the treasure 'found' is home, family and our deepest identity.

The plot structure of each is, in other words, a good example of the Hero's Journey - or Myth - that is such a well-learned template for budding screenwriters.

Not a bad astrological analogy that: we journey through the Twelve Houses throughout our lives, but life symbolically begins (and ends) in the Fourth House of roots, identity, home, family and clan.

In Hollywood screenwriting guru John Truby's breakdown of the myth genre, the 'opponents' that the hero or protagonist encounters are often made up of cameo characters - people met along the way who do not necessarily make a reappearance, with or without an ultimate antagonist.

Such a model is, thus, particularly resonant because it has such a powerful correlation with everyone's everyday, real life. It is no wonder that lead characters we are supposed to identify with in films are called the tale's 'heroes'. We are all heroes, living out the journey to home - to our true self, to our destiny. In the myth template, once you've gone through death and been resurrected, you get to return home with an 'elixir' or some special knowledge - and often you recognise 'home' was with you or within you, wherever you went.

Most of us know what such 'deaths' and resurrections mean. In astro-speak they're known as Pluto transits.

Two more movies that followed this myth structure to cinematic (and Box Office) gold are The Wizard of Oz (1939), directed by Victor Fleming and starring Judy Garland and The Neverending Story (1984), directed by Wolfgang Petersen, starring Noah Hathaway.

Personally, myths have always resonated very powerfully with me. When I was a child, I devoured any book on mythology I could get my hands on. The worlds of gods, monsters, dragons, demons, spirits, wise men and women and heroes of every colour were so real - and the liminal, numinous world was even real-er.

And it was so creative.

But I began this post talking about The Blue Bird, mostly because I've been thinking of young people a lot lately. Specifically toddlers and babies. Everyone around me seems to be having kids, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to have little ones to care for, guide and love of my own.

I'm not romanticising parenthood, but I think in our present age we have demonised the thought of having children - as if it were a fate worse than death. The end of one's individuality, time, leisure and freedom to pursue more ambitious, career-oriented ends.

We've also demonised children. They're meant to be out of control, disrespectful, attention-deficient, materially-obsessed, prone to every manner of distraction, temptation and addiction, and even, at times, down-right criminal.

Let me be honest: I have, in the past, entertained such thoughts myself.

But life has brought me to the point where I feel that, in a world described by every media outlet and information source as sick, dysfunctional, depraved and lost, how could we not look to children as a source of love and hope for a better future?

More to the point: who better than children to motivate us to join together across barriers of wealth, culture, religion and geography to unite to heal the Earth, end wars, curb out-of-control economic growth and live in harmony with nature and each other?

I should say, here, that, despite my intense sensitivity to the despair experienced by the human collective, I know in my heart of hearts that the world is not lost. It is still beautiful, and we can all help to heal it.

Children are not born the monsters we seem to have made them. They may come with different health problems, sure, but their characters - as full of their own individual promise as they are - are shaped, nurtured and supported by us who are parents. So, if we don't like what we see, we bear a lot of the responsibility.

Which isn't to say I can speak from experience yet. But I love the idea of one day being a 'loving gardener' to the fresh new 'garden' that is a child. That's not my original thought by the way - it's taken from a course in "Positive Parenting", now in its fourth year of being led in Cyprus by, among others, my former teacher who is a Baha'i.

The course formerly kicks off on January 16th, and I have every intention of attending.

Parenthood is such a great - and joyous! - responsibility that I want to make every effort to know how to do it right. And in my opinion, there's noone better than my ex-teacher to learn from in the area of raising children - he and his wife have raised six of their own.