Wisdom, such a funny thing. Easy to chop up pieces, and put under glass cages, to be admired - between collegues - in dusty museums.
"Wisdom is what works," says Pinkola Clarissa Estés.
A wise lady indeed.
"Wisdom is what works," I say, "and then take us further."
I don't want to be an image of a god, made out of petrified wood, placed on an elevated throne. I want to move, I want to roam, to explore, to find new homes.
I don't want to be a carrier of stale, old tales. Only if you make the tales alive, will I borrow you my strength.
Let words fly high. Don't use them to drag you down to the dry and crusty ground.
Curiosity is all. Don't hold me back, don't hold me still.
I move towards the corners of the worlds, that still expands, that still thrills.
One-eyed I am, and the metaphor is this: if you don't sacrafice your old sight - you see very little.
"Wisdom is what works," says Pinkola Clarissa Estés.
A wise lady indeed.
"Wisdom is what works," I say, "and then take us further."
I don't want to be an image of a god, made out of petrified wood, placed on an elevated throne. I want to move, I want to roam, to explore, to find new homes.
I don't want to be a carrier of stale, old tales. Only if you make the tales alive, will I borrow you my strength.
Let words fly high. Don't use them to drag you down to the dry and crusty ground.
Curiosity is all. Don't hold me back, don't hold me still.
I move towards the corners of the worlds, that still expands, that still thrills.
One-eyed I am, and the metaphor is this: if you don't sacrafice your old sight - you see very little.
Photograph: "Odin's Eye," by Sofia Karin Axelsson.
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