267. What is there?

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Thinking again about the choice of doing the blog as my direction.

It may feel as if I am an ant, crawling on a topographical map, among hills and valleys in brown and green. And it can also be seen as if I am the sky that is getting involved with the hills, the valleys and the ants.

Somehow it seems that doing the blog is the most forgiving occupation. It doesn’t hold you to a verbally defined commitment. You have seen it going in different directions. One day it was centered on poetry as it looks at life in a fluid way, not entrapped in what seems to be reality, but flowing away from boundaries of shape and time.

Another day I looked at my subconscious beliefs, as they could be detected in my artwork. These beliefs are what mask the truth.

Sometimes discussions of artworks spilled over to glimpses of how things are in these ever-changing worlds, yours and mine.

It can go anywhere.

And don’t forget that it started as a description of self-healing, and almost instructional pieces about the method that I came to find, use and share, and you could read how I viewed the sources of illness (In the ’About’ page).

This is why choosing a direction settled quite easily, in the end, into taking this blog-making as my thread, the line in the middle of my path of choosing and doing. It is a direction without a goal, but with a compass. It has no end. And I’m sure that along the way I’ll be healed from the physical ailments and more and more clearly will be living as an expression of the truth, knowingly.

For one year, when I was 21, I worked as a surveyor’s assistant in a copper mine. Two of us, the assistants, were given the geologist’s instructions to the miners about which direction to dig now, and we descended into the dark tunnels with headlights, heavy batteries attached to our belts and the surveying equipment, to mark with little metal pegs that we hammered into the rocks, which are the new directions in the different faces of the mine.

Sometimes we sneaked away to some neglected, dead end tunnel, far from the noise and sweat of the digging machines. We would sit quietly on the damp earth and turn off the lights on our helmets. We would be then in total darkness, such that you cannot find outside of the mine.

The world would disappear and we would hold our breath.

Why do people do things like this?

I think it is to find the truth. What is there, when everything is gone?

What is there?

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5 Responses to “267. What is there?”


  1. 1 Joni Chanko June 23, 2017 at 4:22 pm

    Ever and always a new threshold

  2. 2 intuitiveflow8888 June 23, 2017 at 4:32 pm

    Yes, and every new step, the truth will be new too.

    • 3 Joni Chanko June 26, 2017 at 10:08 am

      Going back to #266 and how our energy fields rearrange themselves when presented to shapes put me in mind of poems from David Whyte and his feelings on the conversational nature of reality. How we shape the world as the world shapes us…which leads into each step/day/threshold bringing us, if we stay alert, to the frontier edge of life.

  3. 4 intuitiveflow8888 June 27, 2017 at 5:17 pm

    It sounds true to me. I have not read David Whyte. I’m going to look him up now. But yes, this is what I think too: The alertness is what always takes us to the edge of our development. And it is the edge of everything.
    It is the healer and the developer together.


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My Pages

The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.

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