So, what planet do you hail from Martin Shaw, that you speak a language so eloquent that I forget often where I am myself; possibly on Olympus where the immortals' dwell, where once again, I have been weeping o'er this liturgy of the heart, your heart?
I am fortunate enough to have come prepared because I knew you would pull out all the stops and play a lovely, visionary tune on this mostly unmary of all seasons. with people fighting a most unholy war just about everywhere!
My roomies ask me, "Why are you buying more Kleenex?" "Because" says I, "the world needs someone to weep o'er its madness, it may as well be me and oh yes, because Mr. Shaw is possibly the finest musician in these parts & it's that holiest of holy times, the Saturday night wherein he plies his tunes and where if a person has a brain a' tall, he would do well to sit down and partake of the feast of soft sound and wondrous color.
Mr. Shaw, you have really done it this time.... Hope you do not mind if I send this to everyone I know, including me family, some who are still mourning the death of my sister, one of 7, the pleaders, now down to 6 only.... there was always 7 but because one hides itself from view for a long time often referred to as the 6 sisters. Following you again with that wondrous quote, "Make an art of your longing" and so I am, with a piece that i am currently working on, to honor her life.,
Jeanne, such a beautiful writing. I too feel Martín has outdone himself. Reading this passage has brought tears and fire to my heart. I am deeply touched by the quote you referenced: “Make an art of your longing”. For I lost my wife suddenly four years ago and live most days creating and honoring and deciphering beauty amid the cacophony of distress and anguish -- from a world that is entering a dark time. I am blessed to have found moments of grace and belonging in the shadows of my sorrow.
I am wondering if you were the one, I first read when I had first discovered the mythmaker, Martin Shaw in substacks, because this man who had also lost his wife broke my hear; he seemed inconsolable. I will have to scroll back to find if that superb piece of writing was indeed yours. I honor your devotion, if so and felt then as I do now, that if only my generation understood the capacity that great love has to offer and that you two obviously shared, perhaps the world would not be so woefulled.
I was not the only reader who felt touched by that 'make an art of your longing.' You as well it seems. I keep a 'chapbook' where I write down ideas that have me pondering so I would like to say this to you: "Romantic love has little to do with love at all. What it has more to do with is the potential each person holds for the others healing." and no, this is not original with me, it could be by a guy by the name of Robert Johnson. I wasn't in the habit then of putting a byline on people whose thought processes inspired me--my habits have changed considerably since then.
However, know this; the love that sustained you and your beloved through death and beyond is a healing force even for others; it is humbling and glorious and I thank you so very much for allowing me to be a part of that great healer, love. "Make an art of your longing'....Martin Shaw. (Now I do bylines!)
paideia-a lifelong learning of the beautiful and good with special attention paid to the essence or spirit of the thing. Thank you, Mark for putting more fire in my heart for learning. Peace to you and those wonderful memories. We are all stardust, ultimately.
Good Christmas Morning, Jeanne, here from the hilltowns of western Massachusetts. Yes, that was me in the earlier post you were referencing. So much of my work with grief and the Soul has been nourished by the ongoing Convivium that Francis Weller has been orchestrating as both a wisdom keeper and a conductor for the affections of the heart. He has been walking the dark road of our collective personal and cultural crisis with dozens of elders in the making in his online program for over a year now. I am grateful and have been truly blessed by this experience of a heart centered online community.
Good Christmas Morning to you, Mark, from the rain-soaked islands off the Washington coast. I have never heard of Francis Weller, but I will check him out later in the day.; wondering if he is local with western mass because an on-line community usually indicates otherwise., always curious, so thank you for a bit of knowledge on this topic--aging WELL is a subject dear to my heart. And thank you for clarifying for me that it was you in the earlier post; now i won't have to tunnel through all the reading to find the answer. Your beautiful comment regarding the loss of your wife and Shaw's reply was one of the things that intrigued me and why possibly I started to check out this house of beasts and vines and ultimately subscribe. No regrets. Out of curiosity, how did you find out and does it relate to Weller's work? sayonara, Mark, later.
Hi Jeanne, First, I discovered Martin Shaw while participating in the School of Mythopoetics on Mighty Networks. In one of the talking circles, I met a woman from Brighton, England who had done work with Martin one summer at a workshop/camp in Maine. I bought several of his books and then discovered his work on Substack. I have been drawn to his ongoing series a “Liturgy of the Wild” and his recent conversion to the Eastern Orthodox religion (my father’s ancestors are Greek Catholic Orthodox belonging to an ethnic minority group that populate the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains in southern Poland).
Second, I discovered Francis unrelated to Martin Shaw. I had a copy of Francis Weller’s 2017 book called “The Wild Edge of Sorrow”.
Soon after Barbara died, I read the book and was drawn to the type of grief work he was doing. He is located in the Bay area (I believe Santa Rosa). For several decades he has been using the communal grief rituals taught to him by the West African shaman Malidoma Some. Malidoma came to the states in the mid-90’s. James Hillman and Robert Bly were involved with this work also which fell under the panacea of the “Men’s Movement” of that era. Francis was interviewed by Anderson Cooper on his podcast about a month ago. I recommend it highly.
good evening-tide, Mark. sorry for the enforced sabbatical from these posts--had to spend about 3 days off the rock doing non-island stuff. extremely difficult to do nowadays but made it back in one piece; moving forward. later, jeanne
I am awake. I cannot not sleep. It is 4:00am here in Canada. These words light up the wintry dark as the sparks catch in the cold ashen wood-stove of my heart. There is for now light and warmth and maybe hope in the slumbering silence of the house. The keen in me is deep and it now becomes a prayer, a mew swaddled in gratitude and dread for what is to come. For what has come. Joy to the world.
Dinosaurs, druids, William Blake, and the flame-maned Lion of Judah -- you're plucking some crazy inner strings, brother, and the music comes out sweet.
What a privilege to read this on Christmas Eve, Martin. I couldn't be more grateful to you, or to the spirit of Christ who animated your words. I will store this post of yours in my file of special writings and share it with my sister. Merry Christmas.
Your whole life, Martin, all you’ve been and done have brought you here, now, to deliver this sermon. With my tears I say Thank You. That is all this human has...that and choosing to Stay Awake!
It is a revelation and a joy any time I get to read this kind of description of Jesus-something wholly untamed and vital. I crave it, as i havent found enough in the watered down versions and distortions I grew up with to match my longings. Yet he has never stopped being my light. Thanks Martin.
OMG! No words suffice in comment! You were, as they say (and Paul too) “caught up” when you penned this!!! Thank you young teller! Wopila Tanka! Beannacht. 🙏🏽
Oh Mr. Shaw! Thank you for the blood transfusion, I needed it. I long to open the scriptures and hear something other than the thousand civlized sermons that sterilized Him for me. My wild twin has been out over the wall trying to find Him but my conscious awareness has been so civlized that I can't seem to let him into me to play around. He is always at arms length and just out of reach. Thank you for the energies you bring! Your words usher Him into me a bit and I can feel His smile and His touch. Merry Christmas!
“Spirit hovered like a bird over the waters. The delight of crafting the Earth was upon it. The Grail making was upon it. This joyous burning bush in heavy-freighted universal dark. This womb of grain and whale and mountain and antelope.”
Extra especially gorgeous wonderful and amazeing words coming through you today, Martin. Thanks for them. Now my heart is singing, as I step out into the woods before dusk falls.
The whole world rang like a bell that day, and it is still ringing, as in these words. I give my deepest gratitude for these your blessings, which set me to ringing as well.
Before dawn here in the Ozark mountains, my Dartmoor. Thank you for bringing the good news, reminding that it’s ancient, elemental and medicine to the bad news ever raging. Blessings on you and those you love.
Bless you Martin. May the light dance across your moor and may the mystery of being wrap you in the presence of wonder. You and your words are a gift. Thank you. 🙏❤️
This has lodged itself with an unexpected depth and strength within my being this morning and I found that my hand was inadvertently covering my mouth as you finished. Your words are welcome indeed amongst what has become of this time of year. Accompanying you on this journey is fascinating, insightful and surprising. Many thanks to you Martin, sending you blessings and joy for Christmas.
So, what planet do you hail from Martin Shaw, that you speak a language so eloquent that I forget often where I am myself; possibly on Olympus where the immortals' dwell, where once again, I have been weeping o'er this liturgy of the heart, your heart?
I am fortunate enough to have come prepared because I knew you would pull out all the stops and play a lovely, visionary tune on this mostly unmary of all seasons. with people fighting a most unholy war just about everywhere!
My roomies ask me, "Why are you buying more Kleenex?" "Because" says I, "the world needs someone to weep o'er its madness, it may as well be me and oh yes, because Mr. Shaw is possibly the finest musician in these parts & it's that holiest of holy times, the Saturday night wherein he plies his tunes and where if a person has a brain a' tall, he would do well to sit down and partake of the feast of soft sound and wondrous color.
Mr. Shaw, you have really done it this time.... Hope you do not mind if I send this to everyone I know, including me family, some who are still mourning the death of my sister, one of 7, the pleaders, now down to 6 only.... there was always 7 but because one hides itself from view for a long time often referred to as the 6 sisters. Following you again with that wondrous quote, "Make an art of your longing" and so I am, with a piece that i am currently working on, to honor her life.,
Ah, bless you Jeanne, wow. Thank you. And special love to your sister and your tribe.
Jeanne, such a beautiful writing. I too feel Martín has outdone himself. Reading this passage has brought tears and fire to my heart. I am deeply touched by the quote you referenced: “Make an art of your longing”. For I lost my wife suddenly four years ago and live most days creating and honoring and deciphering beauty amid the cacophony of distress and anguish -- from a world that is entering a dark time. I am blessed to have found moments of grace and belonging in the shadows of my sorrow.
I am wondering if you were the one, I first read when I had first discovered the mythmaker, Martin Shaw in substacks, because this man who had also lost his wife broke my hear; he seemed inconsolable. I will have to scroll back to find if that superb piece of writing was indeed yours. I honor your devotion, if so and felt then as I do now, that if only my generation understood the capacity that great love has to offer and that you two obviously shared, perhaps the world would not be so woefulled.
I was not the only reader who felt touched by that 'make an art of your longing.' You as well it seems. I keep a 'chapbook' where I write down ideas that have me pondering so I would like to say this to you: "Romantic love has little to do with love at all. What it has more to do with is the potential each person holds for the others healing." and no, this is not original with me, it could be by a guy by the name of Robert Johnson. I wasn't in the habit then of putting a byline on people whose thought processes inspired me--my habits have changed considerably since then.
However, know this; the love that sustained you and your beloved through death and beyond is a healing force even for others; it is humbling and glorious and I thank you so very much for allowing me to be a part of that great healer, love. "Make an art of your longing'....Martin Shaw. (Now I do bylines!)
paideia-a lifelong learning of the beautiful and good with special attention paid to the essence or spirit of the thing. Thank you, Mark for putting more fire in my heart for learning. Peace to you and those wonderful memories. We are all stardust, ultimately.
Good Christmas Morning, Jeanne, here from the hilltowns of western Massachusetts. Yes, that was me in the earlier post you were referencing. So much of my work with grief and the Soul has been nourished by the ongoing Convivium that Francis Weller has been orchestrating as both a wisdom keeper and a conductor for the affections of the heart. He has been walking the dark road of our collective personal and cultural crisis with dozens of elders in the making in his online program for over a year now. I am grateful and have been truly blessed by this experience of a heart centered online community.
Good Christmas Morning to you, Mark, from the rain-soaked islands off the Washington coast. I have never heard of Francis Weller, but I will check him out later in the day.; wondering if he is local with western mass because an on-line community usually indicates otherwise., always curious, so thank you for a bit of knowledge on this topic--aging WELL is a subject dear to my heart. And thank you for clarifying for me that it was you in the earlier post; now i won't have to tunnel through all the reading to find the answer. Your beautiful comment regarding the loss of your wife and Shaw's reply was one of the things that intrigued me and why possibly I started to check out this house of beasts and vines and ultimately subscribe. No regrets. Out of curiosity, how did you find out and does it relate to Weller's work? sayonara, Mark, later.
Hi Jeanne, First, I discovered Martin Shaw while participating in the School of Mythopoetics on Mighty Networks. In one of the talking circles, I met a woman from Brighton, England who had done work with Martin one summer at a workshop/camp in Maine. I bought several of his books and then discovered his work on Substack. I have been drawn to his ongoing series a “Liturgy of the Wild” and his recent conversion to the Eastern Orthodox religion (my father’s ancestors are Greek Catholic Orthodox belonging to an ethnic minority group that populate the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains in southern Poland).
Second, I discovered Francis unrelated to Martin Shaw. I had a copy of Francis Weller’s 2017 book called “The Wild Edge of Sorrow”.
Soon after Barbara died, I read the book and was drawn to the type of grief work he was doing. He is located in the Bay area (I believe Santa Rosa). For several decades he has been using the communal grief rituals taught to him by the West African shaman Malidoma Some. Malidoma came to the states in the mid-90’s. James Hillman and Robert Bly were involved with this work also which fell under the panacea of the “Men’s Movement” of that era. Francis was interviewed by Anderson Cooper on his podcast about a month ago. I recommend it highly.
good evening-tide, Mark. sorry for the enforced sabbatical from these posts--had to spend about 3 days off the rock doing non-island stuff. extremely difficult to do nowadays but made it back in one piece; moving forward. later, jeanne
I am awake. I cannot not sleep. It is 4:00am here in Canada. These words light up the wintry dark as the sparks catch in the cold ashen wood-stove of my heart. There is for now light and warmth and maybe hope in the slumbering silence of the house. The keen in me is deep and it now becomes a prayer, a mew swaddled in gratitude and dread for what is to come. For what has come. Joy to the world.
Yes! Joy to the world and you Murial, the keen becoming prayer.
Dinosaurs, druids, William Blake, and the flame-maned Lion of Judah -- you're plucking some crazy inner strings, brother, and the music comes out sweet.
Thank you Graham! - we've sold a nice stack of Sunlillies over the autumn, so I'll have a check for you end of January. Season's greetings!
What a privilege to read this on Christmas Eve, Martin. I couldn't be more grateful to you, or to the spirit of Christ who animated your words. I will store this post of yours in my file of special writings and share it with my sister. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas my friend, and I'm honoured to make the file.
Your whole life, Martin, all you’ve been and done have brought you here, now, to deliver this sermon. With my tears I say Thank You. That is all this human has...that and choosing to Stay Awake!
What a kind and gracious thing to say. Received, and waving back at you through the wires and lights.
It is a revelation and a joy any time I get to read this kind of description of Jesus-something wholly untamed and vital. I crave it, as i havent found enough in the watered down versions and distortions I grew up with to match my longings. Yet he has never stopped being my light. Thanks Martin.
Thank you Sara, onwards.
OMG! No words suffice in comment! You were, as they say (and Paul too) “caught up” when you penned this!!! Thank you young teller! Wopila Tanka! Beannacht. 🙏🏽
Thank you dear Patrick, old-growth human that you are.
Oh Mr. Shaw! Thank you for the blood transfusion, I needed it. I long to open the scriptures and hear something other than the thousand civlized sermons that sterilized Him for me. My wild twin has been out over the wall trying to find Him but my conscious awareness has been so civlized that I can't seem to let him into me to play around. He is always at arms length and just out of reach. Thank you for the energies you bring! Your words usher Him into me a bit and I can feel His smile and His touch. Merry Christmas!
Hooray!
Thank you for this gift. These words fall right into my heart and mind... Yeshua, present, alive, wild.
There is much, I will contemplate on. For now I take this into this Holy Night, these sacred times.
“Maybe we are still a pre-Christian civilisation.
We are the slumbering ones
As Jesus walks the dark garden:
Stay awake lads
Just stay awake
It’s not much I’m asking
As a culture we need to get rung.”
Sending Blessings and lots of love
in gratitude
Thank you, and straight back to you Anna Marie. Bless you and your gifts in this year ahead.
Thank you so much for these kind words, the blessing. They fall right into my heart. Walking with it into the New Year. May yours be blessed!
Stay awake, the Lion of Judah is coming, out of the desert, under the star, to conquer the world.
I hear that ROAR.
Do your hear his heavy footsteps? Now his warm breath upon your face as he bids you, “further up, further in…”
More singing! I love it.
“Spirit hovered like a bird over the waters. The delight of crafting the Earth was upon it. The Grail making was upon it. This joyous burning bush in heavy-freighted universal dark. This womb of grain and whale and mountain and antelope.”
Can't seem to stop singing. There's an old Irish ballad singer in me waiting to come out.
Please let him out more.
Merry Christmas!!
Extra especially gorgeous wonderful and amazeing words coming through you today, Martin. Thanks for them. Now my heart is singing, as I step out into the woods before dusk falls.
Oh yes, catch the wooding dusk, perfect.
The whole world rang like a bell that day, and it is still ringing, as in these words. I give my deepest gratitude for these your blessings, which set me to ringing as well.
Thank you Kaat - yes, it rang, the whole world. So beautifully put.
Before dawn here in the Ozark mountains, my Dartmoor. Thank you for bringing the good news, reminding that it’s ancient, elemental and medicine to the bad news ever raging. Blessings on you and those you love.
Thank you Mike - the Ozarks! wow. Your Dartmoor.
Bless you Martin. May the light dance across your moor and may the mystery of being wrap you in the presence of wonder. You and your words are a gift. Thank you. 🙏❤️
Thank you Jamie!
This has lodged itself with an unexpected depth and strength within my being this morning and I found that my hand was inadvertently covering my mouth as you finished. Your words are welcome indeed amongst what has become of this time of year. Accompanying you on this journey is fascinating, insightful and surprising. Many thanks to you Martin, sending you blessings and joy for Christmas.
Received, and back to you Sue - good cheer.