Thank you Stephen, you present a valuable direction: applicability to the abstract, conceptual understanding—why the expression is “give me a concrete example” to carry it over.

Here’s a brief account of what first came to mind: a time when I was very low on dollars, and so camped out in the Alabama Hills—a place not like it sounds, being hardly Alabama-like, seeing that the geography is where Death Valley (the lowest point on earth) meets the base of Mount Whitney (the highest place in the contiguous U. S.)–and that’s a metaphor right there! But before getting sidetracked on another metaphor, let me continue with the story: I was living in a tent there for about three months, reading books about mythology for my classes, and with my cat Fergus (who did quite well out there). Though sometimes the temperature got up around 115 degrees. On one such day Fergus and I hiked up the Whitney Portal trail for cooler air.

We got to a point where we sat on the top of a juncture where two sheer cliffs met, call it the point where the two legs of the letter V touch. It was about a 300-foot drop. So we sat down to take in the space and wind and all, when three ravens showed up. They circled about a hundred feet above us, and then dived down past us into the opened space between the cliffs—I mean right past us so that were I to quickly reach out and grab I would have ravens.

Didn’t try that. And wouldn’t want to. I consider animals in my presence to be exalted guests–or rather hosts, and myself to be their fortunate guest. Anyway, after dropping to nearly the bottom of the cliffs, they then skimmed the ground and swooped back up to their original circling pattern, and then dived down again, and again, every time passing within our reach. This process continued for a long time. Maybe 20 minutes, it’s hard to track time during extraordinary experiences. Fergus certainly wasn’t keeping track, being far too thrilled.

From the time before the ravens arrived and until their departure, I was seated cross-legged chanting Sanskrit verses from Vedic literature that I had memorized, my focus was on resonance, on my body being a struck tuning fork, itself vibrating and vibrating the atmosphere around it with sound waves and perhaps meaning. And as I had been practicing this regularly, I was at the time pretty good at it. So I just kept doing it, naturally thinking/hoping it may have had something to do with the ravens’ activity. It was a rare and beautiful encounter.

Okay, that’s the story.

Now to the mythic metaphor. Where to begin? There are so many myths about ravens and cliffs. And a common mistake, I think, is selecting  one myth, and one myth only, that “I” like. The training teaches us to be wary of conflating with the archetypes and of inflating ourselves through them. For example, for me at the time, I may have conflated them with Odin’s ravens Huginn and Muninn (thought and memory). And why wouldn’t I want this? Having been conditioned from 8th grade by that awesome drawing-representation of the god in the Dungeons and Dragons “Deities and Demigods” book. Had there been two crows and not three, I may have gone more deeply with that one.

But, it doesn’t exclude that myth either, they were, after all, ravens and we must amplify—that is, consider myths from as many cultures as we can. This gives us the general, underlying gestalt—the bass-line or background from which the specific “as-is” character of the event is archetypally permeated. So I look to so many others and find the raven as trickster-figure in many of the Native American myths, or as a solar figure via Apollo in the Greek, or as a figure that does its own thing and flies off and never comes back as seen with Noah in the Old Testament. And then there’s the raven as an omen of death, being a carrion eater, which works fine for mythologists, death being the superlative metaphor for rebirth and transformation.

But seeing as I was engaged in Vedic content, I’m inclined to give a little more weight to that direction. In the Vedic tradition, ravens are associated with the deity Shani [Saturn]. I find Jyotish to be a great mythological system (as all systems of astrology are). And Shani, as an archetypal force, grounds or brings things down, slows things down—even psychologically as in depression—but again, to a mythologist, depression is good news, meaning one is at the nadir of the wheel’s rotation, and the next direction is upward. And because one is in a position of gestation. And even more so, I suspect it is a generous communication from deep within: that one is being “told” to slow down, and for one’s own good!

So one metaphorical correlation (and surely not the only one), and applying quite a mix or gestalt of the many of the things I’ve mentioned, would be that the cyclic flight of the ravens (accompanied by all that they symbolize) were a metaphor for my inner transformation, and for my travel between depression–as at the time I had a good deal of it, contending with loneliness (thank god for Fergus!) and financial stuff, etc.–but I was also elated to have begun my formal studies in a graduate program in mythology, and to be getting all this valuable knowledge. The event told me something along the lines of “Embrace the season you are in, and when that season changes, as it will, embrace what the new season brings, whether from depression to exhilaration, or from gaining new knowledge from my studies “above” (ethereal, abstract, intellectual) and bringing it down into my life, and past my life into “soul.” And of course, since these wonderful mythic/real beings were the messengers, whatever the metaphor, their presence and activity alone was another metaphor, affirming that I was exactly where I was supposed to be: in my story.

Okay, that’s a long entry, but wanted to offer a broad selection of content to work with, and will be briefer in my responses!

If Ravens are the subject. I’m there!
So apologies if I covered this before (even in another Deininger myth blast!)

My experience also happened on a cliff…the edge of Grand Canyon. It was a time of transition as my Grandmother had passed recently and my Mom, Dad and I were going on a trip Out West.
Grandmother would have gone with us.
But in memory of her…we went. Mother had driven her parents out west a long time ago and she wanted Dad and me to see it too.
Many adventures happened including Mesa Verde (seeing those small hand prints in the cliff is humbling.)

But neither Dad nor I had seen the Grand Canyon. It was mind blowing.
everything just opened up…you could feel it…
I played a little Zuni flute I’d just bought at an Arizona trading post…just sitting back from the rim…gazing across all those painted layers.
When I returned back to the camper and sat with the sliding door open, this huge black Raven came sidling around to the open door.
This was no harbinger of doom…this was a character of Native myths curious, trickster and that something else…

(He) picked up a pebble to show off a ravens excellent tossing skills…except it did not go as planned as the pebble bopped him on the beak. (He)shook ruffled his feathers in Corvid frustration. So yes a bit of trickster/clown energy (and not scary clown)

But for me something clicked. For me it was not the archetypes associated with the raven but the Raven itself. Since the Native cultures have other life forms besides humans alone as archetypes and or energies. The raven was a representative of Raven in that imaginal realm.
I had other raven references earlier in my life but had never acknowledged them completely until this moment and once I did that raven story connected into other adventures, chance meetings and so forth.
Wherever I was or would go, I would (see) these birds. Appearing literally to engage my consciousness to “play,” in this imaginal realm. Still happens.

Sometimes I joke the crows point the way to go…(crows too fit with this)

As the crow flies y’know.

One of my favorite connections through my feathered friends is the Naturalist Bernd Heinrich who raised and studied Ravens himself. I was looking for raven calls for a music cd and Had read Bernd’s Mind of the Raven. I contacted him but his return email said all his cassettes of calls were in a shoebox somewhere. He recommended Cornell lab of ornithology, which I used. But even though I never had bird calls from Bernd Heinrich, I gained a lovely pen pal friendship instead. And I even traded him my CD for a signed copy of his book Geese of Beaver Bog.

One other thought: there was a lovely couple from Finland or Friesland? And the wife was really spooked by the Raven. So that was interesting because probably for her or within their culture a raven must have add an ominous perception. But I was not afraid at all.
This was a Native Raven!!…not Poe’s never more bird! Or the black winged war goddess of ancient Ireland!

Now I in my usual parzeval or entish manner have carried on as well!

I hope more participants come to participate with this!!

p.s. the other participant in the trip was Prissy (Caprice) our soon to be “well traveled,” Blue Point Siamese.
By Wyoming she stopped voicing her Siamese opinions!

Sometimes I feel, the more we put the imaginal (creative) realm at bay…the more our journey/s are focused on finding answers and/or “knowing,” answers and they become less about “discovery.” (Discovery Meaning the journey “as is,” provides discoveries along the way, which can potentially lead to aha! Moments but in a more indirect way. That What you are looking for is somehow already there?)

Or Luna Lovegood in Harry Potter saying “sometimes the things we loose don’t always return to us in the way we expect.” Yes Ravenclaw I know.

That’s why I love how you reference the Mystery Craig!
I feel we need it but also understand that very human part of us that seeks answers as well as needs them.It’s natural…it’s human nature.

My concern in the balance between the “imaginal,” and the secular world “as is,” which we also need according to Robert Mirabal’s “Navajo Fires,”…

Is that the purpose of the Mystery is conceived to be “that which can be figured out and will be,” that the purpose of the mystery can be completely explained, measured and quantified…all mysteries are to be solved in other words…

“Solved” instead of “experienced?” Even if sometimes it’s through experience and wonder and The Unexpected…that some of the greatest discoveries have come to light.

Any thoughts? Craig? Stephen?

Perhaps I should modify my stance on discovery/solving puzzles/ and mystery.
An aside: corvids are quite the puzzle solvers.
Back to that in a minute.
I really like the idea of solving a mystery, which opens to a new mystery.
Bernd Heinrich says something similar  in his studies as a naturalist…and ornithologist…that when he goes to solve something with one idea of what is happening then he is absolutely delighted when he is wrong and nature shows him something else that’s happening.
I highly recommend any of his books…including the ones on ravens.

Bernd does a lot of study in the field and while in his Maine cabin a reference to Thoreau or Frost wouldn’t be out of place even if like Parzeval some of Bernd’s methods such as climbing trees for raven eggs at least during one period of his life would be more unorthodox.
Bernd emphasizes the need to interact with nature in order to appreciate it rather than build a fence around it.
He often says after making a discovery about a mystery in nature that is the closest thing (to truth and beauty.)

Or even for a better quicker view introducing Bernd Heinrich is an independent film dvd made by Jan Cannon. “An Uncommon Curiosity at home and in Nature with Bernd Heinrich.”

As for Ravens…they are larger than crows. Some have compared their size to be about equal to a red tail hawk.

Raven’s also have a wedge tail, which crows do not have.

Crows are sleek and shiny black.

Ravens are more ruffled. Even though they are dark black with undertones of purple/blue. Crows have sharp pointed beaks.
Ravens have large beaks sometimes jokingly remembered in comparison to having a “Roman nose.” The Beak is rounded on the top.
Ravens over all tend to be much shaggier than their shiny cousins.
Both Ravens and crows have demonstrated excellent puzzle solving skills. Trained Ravens can learn words just like parrots.
I think Heinrich was one of the first to prove juvenile ravens worked together to find and protect food caches.
Ravens are fascinated by various trinkets it’s proven now and some have even suggested Corvids have “left gifts,” for humans who have fed them.
gifts such as pull tabs and pine cones.
Heinrich after working with Ravens believes there is a “consciousness,” there. I’ll have to find that link.
Their intelligence is considered to be remarkably high…along with simians, dolphins and parrots.
Some of the information is from Bernd Heinrich books and some from other articles and bird guides I’ve read but unfortunately don’t remember the sources now.
So that’s more Raven…trivia

here is Bernd Heinrich talking about consciousness in Ravens.
And apparently he is not the only one. Glanced several articles just written last year from other researchers about this subject.

Thanks, All, and thank you Craig for the mythblast, this is such a fun and interesting topic to me.

One fictional story that has always served for me as a great example of change/metamorphosis is a story by that very name:  The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka–what a magnificent story!  While the main character wakes up one day to find himself in the physical form of being a big bug rather than a human anymore, the changes he goes through are also inner–or it could be perhaps appropriate to say that his inner changes he was going through at the time of stress in his life and family have created the outer metamorphosis. We could sit here and wonder whether it was the inner effect on the outer or the outer on the inner–or both simultaneously working upon the other.. Of course the reader is to take his so-called metamorphosis metaphorically! At that same time, when we imagine the character Gregor Sama as a giant bug, we can also see/imagine ourselves as a giant bug and so we see ourselves in the story, our selves/Gregor reflecting our own feelings of alienation back at us as we are all prone to do at times, especially at sensitive times in our lives such s teen years or early adulthood when we have to get out in the world and make choices our family might not agree with, etc.  It is such a fun story as it is gripping. I might say it would be fun to examine this as another type of Jungian shadow projection, or its dynamics–a roundabout way of looking at the projection of the Shadow. As for Campbell, perhaps this is a hero’s journey threshold moment when it is not the others he sees that are alien at the threshold but himself he sees as he ha crossed the threshold overnight into the new strange life as a bug being the threshold because he is still in his own home–so there is a twist on a hero’s journey step, perhaps. Also as Campbell says in the Power of Myth about the story of the woman who married the man who turned out to be a snake (literally, bad medicine man/magician), her threshold was when she crossed the water signifying a spiritual break from the physical or a change from regular earthly known “normalcy,” and this story by Kafka has sort of the same theme only with very different motifs though each one still a vermin of some sort or a pest, whether the snake-man husband who is a evil magician or of Gregor who feels like and therefore has symbolically/metaphorically turned into a bug. Here is a website address you can cut and paste:

https://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Metamorphosis

Stephen:While we are engaged in the mundane…

Yes! As a young dancer (15/16) had to take the “train” (subway) for classes in NYC. I was coming from out of town (so would spend a few months/summers up in the city over the years.)

I remember the train tunnels underground, the heat, the sound…it felt quite mythic. The subway was never just a “subway.” Those trains (were dragons.) And I wrote a poem ode to them entitled “Dragons of the Underworld,” which was published in a small periodical.
The trains “roared,” you could feel the electricity in the air…the heat of the tunnels, the ogle of the yellow eye of an oncoming train…and the power of these metallic beasts roaring past.
My favorites were the “red dragons,” the express trains now sadly long since retired. The whole underground tunnels would vibrate with sound and wind of passing trains…you could feel it in the bones…it was exciting!

Then as I referenced in the ode after queuing up like billiard balls, we would hop onto a dragon and fly into the dark!

After a long day of dance (tired and hungry) the roars of passing dragons in the tunnels never failed to inspire and excite as everything else was drowned out except their presence. I needed the trains to be dragons…something vibrant and alive and magical living in the urban jungle.
I felt for the other commuters who were exhausted from work and life and only wanted to get from point A to B.
But the dragons were mostly my secret. Except I was lucky to have a Mom who supported my “imaginative stance.” Grin. She too would reference the “red dragons.” And it was worth a poem after all!

The reason perhaps for my mythic experience also related to having seen CBS’s “Beauty and the Beast,” which has all the mythic symbols of a “real underworld.” A blend of reality and fantasy and classic literature/poetry.
Central Park as well has its own wonderful mythic feeling…it’s incredible even years later walking out of the city and into the park how the sound of traffic begins to mute as one passes through this “invisible,” barrier and is surrounded by the green.

And to be fair there are many wonderful parks in NYC, Brooklyn etc.

If one knows where to look!!
 

Poetry… that call came from Beauty and the Beast (my parents vetted it for me) and I am thankful. Ron Pearlman was a former Shakespearean actor.
And not only was there this mythical/real underworld below the (dragon tunnels) but also worlds of poems and poets…Shakespeare and Frost I knew…but new names echoed in my young head…and I had to find every poem recited…every poet mentioned!
Libraries and bookstores called! I eagerly scanned shelves and flipped through volumes searching for these treasures made of words and sounds and images!
I gained a reputation among my friends of being someone who memorized a lot of stuff. Heh heh. But I loved it! It must have seemed strange but in my preteen and early teen years names like Percy Bish Shelly and Walter De la Mare and Lord Byron…danced in my head!

During a break in a youth play production, I recited (Xanadu-Samuel Taylor Coleridge) to the musical arranger. She looked at me and said “I have a challenge for you. Look up Alfred Noyse, “The Highwayman.”
I did…and it became my new favorite! That one was “acted out.” To be clear no one was making me memorize…I had zeal for it!
The greatest challenge because of the rhythm and wording was “Fern Hill,” yes Dylan Thomas. I loved and love it…moving through the images…walking through the orchards hearing the foxes bark “clear and cold” and the “sabbath ringing slowly in the pebbles of the holy stream.”

the wishes “racing through the house high hay…”

It’s especially poignant and freeing at the same time. The last line always catches me. “I sang in my chains like the sea.”

And one of my very favorites but I have no idea which translation I memorized…Renoir Marie Rilke…

And to wind back to dragons but only the opening lines Rilke: How should we be able to forget those myths at the beginnings of all people? The myths about dragons who at the last moment turn into princesses?

Because of all these poets including “ “new”poems I learned from Frost and Shakespeare…I began writing my own poems.

B&B was a call to adventure!!

Yes, there was a beast in the tunnels but the treasure was not a prince or princess…the treasure and beauty was words and poetry!

Hello,

Thank you for the mythblast …

The theme of metamorphosis is both ancient and timely it is an eternal metaphor of organic change … From insect moth butterfly ,The Golden Ass & Ovid to Kafka & Metamorpho, real name Rex Mason of DC comics. The allusion are quite profound and lots of fun to play with. Such exquisite metaphysical connotation can be aroused with the words and imagery of the metamorphic process. After all is said and done

“You’re a Butterfly and the Butterflies are free to fly”

There is also the shadow side of those that believe they have transformed and risen above the heard of common humanity.

Monarch Mind (Mind Control, MK ULTRA) comes to mind. Pun intended 😀

But then again there is also the Light side of the process. The moth that is drawn higher nearer the flame compelled to speak in “Conversations Of A Higher Order.”

Which brings to mind the cautionary compelling words of Paul … “ If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. … But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.“ Lots of fun to seek those Kenshō Samadi Satori moments as One rises to the Flame .… Within …

R³

Butterflies, transformation/metamorphosis  yes R-3!

In many cultures butterflies represent the soul.

And here is my shortest post of the year!

The butterfly is realized…

This evening as I waited to enter a dump site….a bright orange and black monarch flickers up above my hood and flies into the tall trees above.