An early dark misty moisty campervan morning. Steam rising from hot coffee and breath on air, though it actually feels warmer than expected. Mist clings to trees and hedges, obscuring the view. The occasional drip of dewey dampness around me, looking skyward the occasional glimpse of a waning moon. Early morning birds and the sound of passing planes, navigation lights flaring in the mist. The birds too dark to see. A beautiful drumming session yesterday left me mellow and yet excited, more of which I have posted on my drumwithus page. This morning the week kicks off already. Reflecting on a conversation yesterday around cornerstones. The definition floats around it being the first stone set in a construction and all other stones laid in reference to it. Offerings were sometimes made and left under the stone as construction commenced. As time progressed it became more ceremonial with some of them have engravings on with information pertaining to the building. The cornerstone in the context of the conversation was the very base in which we or I was built. The parts that formed who I am, that were still relevant and uncompromising. The cornerstone of my belief structure so to speak. The bricks that made its shape. It’s windows to look out of and to look into. Jungian psychology talks of the building as levels of the psyche the top floor being your personal narrative, the ground floor your family narrative, the cellar ( It’s an old analogy ) is the culture you grew up in or lived in and below that is the cave which is the ancestral lineage from which you came. So a deep conversation on lineage, influences, culture and family ensued. The cornerstone built on the cave and cellar, my culture and my lineage. The building erected on that foundation around family and on top of that my story. The conversation however focussed on the cornerstone, the lineage and the culture that got me to that point and what their construct is. My parental lineage is very foggy ( Too personal to go into here, but those that know, know ) so some time has been spent trying to make sense of that. As to my culture that too appears to be built on shifting sands as I make sense of my lineage. Also in the end does it really matter ? Interesting times and all from a chat around cornerstones. Lovely days people.
“Race, blood, lineage, and nationality don’t matter; they’re just the way that small minds keep score. All that matters about blood is that it’s warm and that it beats through a loving heart.” Scott Simon
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