My people on one side, paternal side, were drawn to books and writing letters and such. It seemed to be good therapy for abandonment and shame in that day. Their myths, their inner gods that kept them together, could only be found high in the trees. The low hanging myths were not potent enough for the burdens they brought with them from Missouri, a potent variety of abandonment and shame.
The things written for treatment were of the most mundane and everyday, and that seemed to be right on target for getting better–“Sy went to town with the cotton”, “Felix cut wood all morning long”…..and such as this. It was good though, this work of writing the ordinary and looking to the “letter” for strength. The work, dancing, worshipping, church going, birthing and burying this seemed to center this bunch. A new axis mundi was found for my folk, Watterson, Texas.
Those things-myths, archetypes, leprechauns, prophets, demons, and angels-lived high in the pines that grew on the marginal soils along Sandy Creek, Texas. They were strong myths, all of them, that lived high in the trees, strong enough to start a journey out of shame. The journey wasn’t started by magic, but by looking high up where ever my people were at their time of looking.
My people from the”book side”-paternal, they have a tendency to be buried along a line from Missouri to California by way of Texas-most would say they had looked high up in their time, just because they felt the need to do so, as if it was a calling.
Thanks to my folk for looking higher than the low branches. It seems you were right, the deepest glory is behind the darkest shame. It is hard to look that high much of the time.
Spiritual Formation 