The fool is the beginning of all things.
He is the instinct that hums yes in us.
Beneath all our anxious wanderings,
Our reluctant wanderings,
The fool rallies us to embark upon the journey that has been waiting for us.
The fool does not sing of bravery or sigh out longings.
He simply is the knowing itself.
The knowing that life must be lived,
In whatever way it appears,
In whatever way we can manage it.
The fool is the beautiful initiate,
Seeking admission into the great mythic adventure,
Living.
We have met the fool thousands of times.
He is the center of every story,
The mythological hero upon whom we set our hearts.
He walks with nothing but a small sack of basic nourishment and a flower representing the purity of his soul.
He seems courageous,
Brazen,
But the truth is he is wisely foolish.
He knows that planning will do him no good and the path will not be straight.
It's not boldness he needs,
It's faith.
He is the kernel of instinct in us,
That subconscious seed of intuitive understanding of what we need and who we are.
He does not seek soothsayers or life coaches.
His own body,
His very breath carries all the answers he'll ever need.
His heart contains all the wisdom he'll ever know.
You have been the fool a thousand times.
You tried that first breath,
That first word,
That first step.
You have found love with someone who was once a stranger.
You have earned mastery in something that was once a mystery to you.
You have built for yourself an entire universe of people and dreams and fears and experience.
You have packed yourself up and started over,
Shifted direction,
Chosen to become something deeper,
Truer.
Every moment that you have decided to live,
To open yourself to the brilliance and wildness of adventure,
The fool has been within you humming,
Yes,
My friend,
Yes.
The fool is the beginning of all things,
But he is also the middle and the end and the beginning again.
No matter where you are,
How many steps you've taken,
The fool will always come to you if you call him.
You can always choose to live passionately and soulfully.
You are not stuck where you are.
You are not lacking in courage or insight or love to make your journey.
You just need to begin and to be,
And you will find that everything has been within you,
Waiting to expand through the journey itself.
We are going to enter the underworld now,
My dears,
Like Persephone,
We will leave the sun behind and sink into our deeper realities that exist only in the dark.
If you are not already,
Make sure your body is comfortable and supported.
Close your eyes if you can and relax your muscles in your legs,
Your fingers,
Your face.
Take a slow,
Heavy breath in and exhale everything but this moment.
Again,
Breathe in this now and let out everything else.
In this space of stillness,
Sink into your body,
Sink into the depths of yourself so that together we may enter the liminal space,
The imaginal realm.
You are at the edge of a meadow,
Underneath the velvet indigo sky of dusk.
Before you is a river you must cross and though you are frightened of it,
You trust that you will be protected.
You approach the river,
Misted with the ghostly whispers of who you are and you see that the ferryman is waiting for you there.
He takes you across in silence and you feel the weighted beauty of pure truth brewing in your heart.
On the other bank there is a man waiting for you.
His face is warm and bright.
He smiles and beckons you to come closer.
As you approach,
You see that his clothes are threadbare,
Though beautiful.
At his feet jumps a little dog and across his shoulder hangs a cloth sack of barely any weight.
In his shirt pocket there's a white and orange rose,
Fragrant and brilliant.
Wordlessly he turns and begins down the long stretch of road that curves and dips and disappears sharply against the horizon.
You are nervous and unsure if you want to follow.
You can see that up ahead the road cuts through a patch of dark forest and farther down it snakes along the sharp edge of a cliff.
But though you hesitate,
The man does not turn back and marches on happily,
His face set heavenward.
Slowly,
Timidly,
You follow.
It's one step,
Then another,
And another,
And soon you're walking,
Then keeping pace.
As you go you feel a gentle,
Wondrous heat lift through your body,
As if a light has come alive inside you.
You look down in your hands and see that you too have a pack and a white rose and that you have always been prepared for this journey.
You watch from a distance as the man skips through the eerie forest and slippery cliff edge,
Keeping his eyes set on the path forward,
His face bright with the light of the sun.
At last you come to the point of the horizon and the man pauses.
You step beside him and look down and see that you have climbed a mountain and below is a beautiful valley of flowers.
He looks at you and smiles and nods.
You look back just for a moment at the incredible journey you've just made and breathe deeply.
You feel ready.
You lift your face to the sun and once again begin with a step.
This journey you will continue alone.
Feel the excitement inside you,
The boldness and wonder at what will come.
Feel this light inside growing from your center and spreading out everywhere around you.
You are Ice York!
Hippie!
You You You You You You If you are still in the underworld feel yourself drifting gently back to the meadow Donning under a brilliant peach glow Now come back into your body The journey is where you become who you are You don't need anything to start but your basic nourishment and your own pure soul Trust in life as the fool does Have faith that the path is leading you to beauty to truth to fulfillment When the way seems dark unknowable dangerous Close your eyes and listen to his voice Deep deep within you singing.
Yes Go May you continue your journey with faith and truth my dears May this seed thrive in your heart and help you bloom into who you are
