While pondering about beginning a blog and if so how to start, I thought ‘beginnings’ seems a worthwhile theme to start with. Rilke writes:
‘Always at the commencement of work that first innocence must be re-achieved, you must return to that unsophisticated spot where the angel discovered you when he brought you the first binding message… if the angel deigns to come, it will be because you have convinced him, not with tears, but with your humble resolve to be always beginning: to be a beginner!’
I find his words immensely comforting; reminding me to be humble, to relax into my own heart, to leave the need for cleverness and sophistication out of the equation at least for now, to embrace rawness, newness, not-quite-knowing, uncertainty.
I don’t like feeling like a beginner, who does? Why don’t we? Is it the fear that we might ridicule ourselves with unpolished things? The fear that really there is nothing worthwhile we could say, make or create? A fear of the void, of silence, hollowness, a fear of the pause- or ultimately of death?
It reminds me of a book I read a long time ago about the Leboyer birthing method that became familiar in the 1970s. Leboyer described that when a baby is born instead of allowing the umbilical cord to finish pulsating and for the baby to take its own time to find its first breath, people around mother and baby panic and cut the cord as quickly as possible… as well as smack the baby to get that first ‘proper scream’! He promoted to wait, to allow this pause before the first breath, for the cord to stop pulsing before it is cut… for all involved to be with this magical moment - and maybe to encourage this process with a gentle massage of the baby, but never with a smack! The photographs accompanying the text were astonishing: the screaming faces of babies held upside down seemed to be in such pain, and those other babies looking like little Buddhas, once they found their breaths and the tummies of their mums. Can we trust enough to wait when we begin something? Wait until we find our breath, let the angel find us? Can we entice, welcome the unknown? Who can give this encouraging massage that helps us to take this step, this breath? And is there ever a time when we need a smack on the bottom, because really we can’t find that breath on our own? I guess most of us have come into this world with a smack on the bottom, being applauded once we’ve screamed out little lungs out! Maybe hung upside down, disorientated, scared. Maybe it takes us a long time to develop this trust into our first breaths, into the life force, the creative force to move through us, the trust that the breath will come through if we just show up, begin, listen, wait…Deepak Chopra quotes Franz Kafka on this state of waiting:
’You need not leave the room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait. You need not even wait, just learn to become quiet, and still, and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice; it will roll in ecstacy at your feet.’
Now that’s a good promise for this stage of waiting! I know Chopra put the quote in the context of meditation. Of becoming still and present. For me that’s something I feel very drawn to but also find incredibly difficult, but I am happy to report that this is the first week I succeeded to sit every day for 15 minutes trying to meditate; I feel definitely like an absolute beginner with this and how difficult it is to still my mind is frustrating and even upsetting- making me realise how rarely I am truly PRESENT- not pondering next steps, lists, ideas, dreams... Well, this IS a beginning though!
Last week I performed a scratch of a new piece ‘Towards the Heart of the Sea’ as part of
‘The Ship of Fools’, a cross-disciplinary arts event at LIMBO Arts, Margate.
‘TOWARDS THE HEART OF THE SEA’ is inspired by the stranded boats of Dungeness, Derek Jarman’s work and the shamanic tradition of spirit boat journeys. It s a lament and calling, an exploration of the liminal, the place where the old is gone and the new not yet in sight, between embarking and disembarking, dreaming and action, life and passing. Between abstract and concrete the piece utilises movement, sound-collage, experimental singing with a simple glass harmonica, text and video-projections.
The performance was a good experience, over 20 people showed up in the middle of the afternoon. I loved the fact that most had not seen much performance art – refreshing! An interesting discussion evolved afterwards about the piece, the devising process, performance and place etc, leaving me feeling inspired, appreciated and seen. A good beginning I thought for a piece that I envision growing into a much bigger shape!
Here are some text snippets used in the piece, the middle bits are from Derek Jarman’s film BLUE.
In the beginning was the sea
In the beginning there was breath
In the beginning we were surrounded by sea, swimming blissfully
In the beginning we moved freely between the worlds
Deep love, drifting on the tide forever…
And when she set foot on land, every step hurt as if she walked on knives.
Our names will be forgotten in time.
Our life will pass like the traces of a cloud
and be scattered like the mist that is chased by the rays of the sun.
For our time is the passing of a shadow
and our lives will run like sparks through the stubbles.
So
Kiss me again
Kiss me
Kiss me again
and again
Never enough
Greedy lips
Speedwell eyes
Blue skies
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