Zin Uru / Ritual of Being- Intro
I want to
introduce you to the way of the Norse Gothi;
It’s
something that pre dates the Viking age, and although they are masters of
ceremonies
It’s not
necessarily religious in the way you would think of it today.
This is in
a way about ancient psychology, about re coding and structuring your mind
Into a
better , more complete version of You. To structure society into a better
version of itself.
A Gothi –
one who is immune to sorcery
Appearing
as the Wild Men all through Europe
In outfits
that took the shape of trickster Gods
Creator of
words, weaver of spirits and the One
That could
put names to symbols.
By absorbing
these words you will participate in a ritual to put names to masks of Self
Not One,
but Five Names that describes who you are , who you can be sometimes,
Who you
could become
To Participate,
do the following:
·
Draw a circle,
and from four equidistant directions draw a line
·
You will now give a name to the 4 Urges of Self - Choose
four animals within a specie of animals e.g. 4 birds , 4 fish, 4 mammals etc
that represents different aspects of you – one sits on your head, one in each
hand and one sits between your legs.
·
The fifth animal goes in the centre, the one closes
to your heart or your core of Self
The Urges that drives us ; I have Named Mine ; you will
have to make your own names for Yours
My names are : Dove, Eagle, Peacock and Owl.
And my last name is for a mask I only show to my Inner
circle , to the ones I trust the most
This urge I have named Magpie.
STEP 1 – Create an anchor of the Self - Connect the 5 Urges
of Self into a Being of Mind
To Participate, do the following:
·
Take each of the names you have now given to the
Urges. You may translate them to whatever language you like, then draw the
letters of the symbol together as one. Repeat the drawing of the one symbol
until it transforms into something pleasing to your eye.
·
Replace the names of the 5 Urges with your symbols
MOUNTAIN MIND
QUESTION VOICE
Now close
your eyes Listen to
your breath
Imagine my
voice as a current of energy
Feel it flow
from my mouth to your fingertips, through your body,
feel it
travel all the way down to your toes
Now tune out
from all the clutter in your mind
Only listen
to my voice Silence the
headlines
And media
you’ve absorbed
Put aside
your frustrations with global and local politics
Bat away the
latest slogan or lyrics that play, sometimes on loop
& repeat
after me
I am Simple, simply
Human, I am
Listen to the
voice in your mind
I am Simple,
Simple I am
From over the
Mountain of Perception
I am simple
Hum, simply human,
let go of
Questions
There is no
simple answer to IT , what even is IT
it is It , is
what IT is
Empty your
mind to hear the voice
From inside
the Mountain of Self
Mountain –
Question : just mind the voice
Question –
Mountain: just voice the mind
Mountain –
Mind: just voice the question
Question –
Voice: just mind the Mountain
Mountain –
Question: just mind the voice
Question the
Voice Mountain the Mind
Mountain Question Mind Voice
Mountain Mind
Question
Voice
Sometimes
when you put on these masks, you end up in flocks of people all wearing the
same masks. These are stories of the times I flew in such flocks;
I - A
group of Doves is called a Dole of Doves
A Dole of
Doves invited me to a symposium of suburban dinner parties in west Auckland
Dole of
Doves Always Striving for Perfection
We arrived at
a perfect little house on a perfect little hillside by an estry;
perfect
fence, perfect spouse, perfect face; just perfect , or so she said
A perfect
house is never good enough, A Dove is Never
We all know,
perfect is never Perfect, perfect is never enough
With interior
design, fashion and makeup copied from youtube tutorials
Dole of
Doves Always Striving for Perfection
Never Perfect
Little Dove
Dole of Doves always striving for perfection
Never feels
Perfect
Little Home
A perfect
little house is never clean enough
A perfect
little life is never good enough
Never feels
at Home
Little Dove
Or So she
said so she
said
Never perfect
in her mind
Never
cries the
Dove ,
always
striving for perfection
but Never
felt at Home as a Dove
II - A
Dole of Doves in Change
A Dole of
Doves invited us for some change,
inside their
masks,
at a
symposium
overlooking
the Whau River,
where we would
draft a script for change
invited us
for some change
Making a
keynote presentation on how to break free and Host some transformation
A dole of
Doves invites us around for some Change,
within their masks,
around a
shabby chic interior
invited us
for some change
To deep dive
into the experience of being a lone Dove, free,
No longer a
doleful dove; now a daemon of between
with a new
symbol
behind the
mask, struggle ascending
behind, the
struggle is wild
a drawn on Halo above the etching of a goats
head
that was hidden
under a rug
in a Mediterranean style house in Titirangi
behind the
mask, struggle to break
behind, stronger
than she knew
the struggle
is wild
a dole of
doves invited us around for some Change
some change some change
to a feather in
a mask
some change
to break free
from the idea
of picture perfect
of a Dove
who
can become
a
Daemon of
Between
III A Dove
had a Mask
]This Dove
had a little Soul
She had a
little Goal
Had a little
Dream
A silent
little Scream
A silent seam
A patchwork
daemon
Ready for a
change
A group of
Peacocks is called a Muster of Peacocks
A muster of peacocks
come to a function in Blockhouse Bay
With class in
one hand and a jar of silver tongues in the other
They carry a
personalised pedestal with them at all times
To stand on
when posing or conducting, which they often do
Every move is
choreographed, they present themselves often photoshopped
Every moment
is an opportunity, every time a chance to gain more likes
At the end of
the night they sometimes fray around the edges, one drink too many
Can let their
nature slip out, drop the Class on the floor and become fragile
A muster of
peacocks is best when they are fragile, they moved on to an afterparty in
Avondale
& I could
see their red threads sticking out, red threads they had wrapped themselves in
Red threads they
ordered online to bind themselves in
When they
wear a broken mask, in a broken place
it reveals
that depth inside a paua shell
the idea of
broken is all about Perception
A muster of
Peacocks all went to get new coves for their Masks
To hide the
cracks that we saw
At an
industry event in in Rosebank
The peacock
got a new mask
A new surface;
A new apex
They had a
new look, A perfect veneer again
He looks like
the apex herbivore
Taking a
brand new still image for media
A quiet cry,
A worn silver tongue , A jar of voices
He had a big dream,
He had a big goal, He had a big soul
A silent big Scream,
A silent seam
A patchwork
daemon
Ready for a
change
A group of Owls is called a Parliament of Owls
A Parliament of Owls gather in the Night at an art
exhibition at former Carrington Hospital
in pods of Hooting Owls, drinking wine, eating crackers and
cheese
Spinning their heads around to greet people while bodies are
still facing the art
Their face in the glow of vintage lightbulbs, eyes that see
through the darkness of a mood
In the Dark they Chorus, behind round projecting eyes
Of Owls
A Parliament of Owls spent all day designing mazes for
people on lawn in Mount Albert
They were huddled up in a shed turned into a creative
workshop of costumes and masks
He carries with him a bag black sand, the stuff that is a
void yet measures all Time
So that he can sprinkle it into your eyes and drinks or bake
it into your food
The incognito maestro of ceremonies
At day he is stuck in a maze of his own design, but at night
he is
The Owl
The Owl made
his own mask
Who had a
grand design
Had a grand
Dream
A silent grand
Scream
A silent seam
A patchwork
daemon
Ready for a
change
A group of Eagles is called a Convocation of Eagles.
A convocation of Eagles form as a soaring over a central
Auckland apartment
A tapestry of wingspan and eyes in the sky
With a snake around their neck as a tie, all in collared
shirts and pressed pants
They swoop down to engage, calculated brief moments
Sleep deprived and over worked, you’d never know unless you
knew,
They hold all the tension in a room as a habit
Hold it like tight wires that could be strummed, tuning them
When they strum those rows of tight wires
They can play the tunes that we must dance to, or so they
say,
Then they soar up to look above the horizon, beyond our
walls and mountains
A convocation of eagles sound best when they sing the tune
of Bella Ciao
In the voice of a chorus of Anon he becomes the Omega
At night he wears the blinders of a falcon to sleep
At day he puts bells around his neck, his wrists and his
ankles
And parades into the day like Micromegas
As the Eagle
The Eagle
inherited his Mask from age old roots
He had a
shining Goal
Had a shining
Dream
A silent shining
Scream
A silent seam
A patchwork
daemon
Ready for a
change
A group of Magpies is called a Mischief of Magpies
A mischief of Magpies is a rare sight found in curious
locations like Cornwallis Beach
As they are usually
solitary operators, never alone though, but operating on their own
With a drop of daemons blood in their beak and obscure
tattoos under their feathers
They pass through the underworld in their sleep, known to
associate
With witches, fools and fortune tellers
they look for a place to have a fireside chat, between black
and white plumage
of a Magpie
A Mischief of Magpies socialize by prancing and dancing
around on the black sand of Muriwai
Stealing food and drinks, causing disruption, and cackling
maniacally about it
While one magpie is bad luck, one for sorrow
Two brings joy and positivity, three for a funeral, four for
a birth
Five is for heaven, six is for Hell, seven for the devil his
own self
Eight is for Goddess as your own self
Nine is for Godhead the trickster
And 10 is for a surprise that must not be missed
The Magpie
took its Mask from the sacred clown
They had a
contrarian Role
Had a spiteful
Dream
A silent trickster
Scream
A silent seam
A patchwork
daemon
Ready for a
change
A story about the time that I was
AN OWL IN AN EAGLES NEST
The Zeitgeist is sleeping with the lights on again
The Oracle of
Humanity is depressed again
And here I am as an Owl in an Eagles nest
Now this is all about lack of love, or more like a place
devoid of real Love, of searching for some kind of Love and finding hollow
substitutes; I’m talking about Philia Love, the love for your partners in the
workplace.
Or a lack thereof , you know
The 4 Urges, directions of Self, Real their heads in the
workplace as Characters to play
Characters you are expected to embody, to play your role and
stick to the script.
Most of you do it, or have at least done it at some point -
Some of you have been A dove, An owl, The peacock, The eagle
I’ve been
the kind follower to
the stubborn leader,
the blind manager to the strong follower,
the strong manager to
the broken leader,
the strong leader to the confused follower
This is the day-to-day battles, the daily grind
Of The Dove, The Owl, The peacock , The eagle
What face will you choose today
However much I wanted, I never chose a different one
& here I stand again : as an own in an eagles nest
Management would tell us
On your own you are nothing, replaceable by design, together
they are everything
On your own you do Nothing, by contractual obligation, together
you do Everything
The Zeitgeist is sleeping with the lights on again
The Oracle of
Humanity is depressed again
And here I am as an Owl in an Eagles nest
They give you the idea that on their own
They would tear each other apart
This is Aotearoa psycho reborn in the mini metro of
Auckland’s corporate boxes
And here I am as an Owl in an Eagles nest
Eagle runs the Dove, charms the Owl, robs the Peacock
Peacock ruffles their feathers
Dove hide behind high heels and pen pads
Owl thinks for Eagle, pushes Dove, rattles peacock
Eagle ties up Dove, drains Owl, breaks Peacock,
After a while stuck in an Eagles Nest
Dove learns to fight for peacock, guide the Owl and lecture the
Eagle
Peacock learns to listen to Dove, defend Owl, and shines at
Eagle
Owl wears a branded Crest; Owl soaks up the frazzled fray
Owl stays calm in this frantic race as a scribe of madness
mending bridges in his wake
Owl is still a killer you see, doves and peacocks his prey
Owl haunts the Eagles dreams, turned into night-terrors with
plied open eyes
Owl is a saviour, Owl is a killer, Owl is here to serve you,
calm in a frantic race of a river with targets and
deadlines
Owl is a bard is a daemon that watches, singing tales of
madness and evils at open mic nights
The Zeitgeist is sleeping with the lights on again Oracle of humanity is anxious
again
Madness is the crown on an Eagles head
Owl Flew the Eagles Nest, Owl with no branded Crest
What mask will I wear Today? What mask will you wear Tomorrow?
The Zeitgeist is sleeping with the lights on again
The Oracle of
Humanity is depressed again
And here I am as an Owl who left the Eagles Nest
Zin Uru / Ritual of Self – How to
Name the Birds of Self
I’ve been told
–
everyone fits
into one of four roles in life driven by 4 primal Urges
They’re either
a Dove, A Peacock an Eagle or an Owl
Yet, I find
myself identifying as Magpie that tends to hang out with Kereru, Pukeko, and Kea–
those
woodpigeons that tend to defy gravity by hanging out on thin branches
or those blue
and red long legged swamp hens hanging out in cul de sacs,
and those green
parrot bastards try to bite you and steal anything shiny from your car.
Love all of those
guys
I’ve been shown
-
how we get
boxed in by the Four Urges that drive us, that defines us,
Urges that
makes you put on masks when you get up in the morning
Sometimes when
you put on these masks, you end up in flocks of people
all wearing the
same masks.
A Dole of Doves
invited me to a symposium at suburban dinner party in west Auckland
It was full of
perfectly plumed Little Doves, yet when they went out on a limb
Sitting on a
branch they turned into a loft of woodpigeons
A muster of
peacocks came to a function in Blockhouse Bay
With class in one hand and a jar of
silver tongues in the other
yet it was a gawky of head bobbing
pukekos was seen leaving the place
A convocation
of Eagles form as a soaring over a central Auckland apartment
With a snake
around their neck as a tie, all in collared shirts and pressed pants
But deep in a
man cave they turned into a circus of Kea singing Bella ciao (x2) Bella ciao
ciao ciao
A Parliament of
Owls gather in the Night at an art exhibition in former Carrington Psych
Hospital
in pods of
Hooting Owls, drinking wine, eating crackers and cheese
Later that
night behind the building it as a mischief of magpies that could be found
The Four masks
I thought I knew
gone,
replaced by
Kereru, Pukeko, Kea and Magpie
With a drop of
daemons blood in their beak and obscure tattoos under their feathers
They pass
through the underworld in their sleep,
known to
associate With witches, fools and fortune tellers
I’ve been told
that these
variants of the Norm socialize by prancing and dancing around on black sand
causing
disruption, cackling maniacally about it
I’ve been shown
that One outlier alone is seen as bad luck,
but together
they can bring on a change that should not be missed
I’ve been told
Light against Darkness, Earth
against Stone, Rainbow against the Void or fire against ice,
I’ve been shown
the kind follower can be a motivated leader,
the blind follower could be a great manager,
the strong manager can be a broken leader, the
strong leader could be a weak follower
I’ve been told
Light against Darkness, Earth
against Stone, Rainbow against the Void or fire against ice,
I’ve been shown
Light, darkness, rainbow, void, earth, stone,
fire, ice
Working in harmony beyond the
polar ideas of four roles
I’ve seen
Four Urges always caught in
conflict, feathers flying & they call this a normal working day
All in a days work
I’ve seen
That Owl is a killer, Owl is a
daemon that watches,
As a Magpie he is singing tales of
madness and evils at open mic nights
I’ve been told
Don’t you forget to put on that
mask ;
What mask will I wear Today? What mask will
you wear Tomorrow?
But I left the four Urges on the
coat-rack today
and swapped them for some native
birds
I’ve been shown
How 4 urges turn into 4 new ones
for each culture you embrace, 4 more for each sub-culture you become part of
Growing exponentially as you let
go of the idea of a reality that only exists on a x,y-axis chart
As part of a statistic of normality
I’ve been told
About a world beyond the four
Urges that you are meant to fit into
I’ve been shown
A world of change as a Magpie
that prefers the company of Kereru, Pukeko, and Kea
I’ve been told
Light against Darkness, Earth
against Stone, Rainbow against the Void or fire against ice,
I’ve been shown
Light, darkness, rainbow, void, earth, stone,
fire, ice
Working in harmony beyond the
polar ideas of four roles
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