Fertility Right; (what we talk about when we talk about our dick...)

I am utterly exhausted with writing my book- and the last thing I want to do is write.

I just want to close my eyes and sleep.

The problem is, the book is dealing with EVERYTHING.  From my abuse as a child, to my tortured middle years, to my fumbling for some kind of redemption.

Yesterday, I posted something about gratitude.

When I am tired…

I am trying to force myself to be grateful.

Something weird was the 'dick' reference.

I don’t censor or judge what I post…I just do it.

 

That way...I know it's coming from a truthful place.

No matter what the consequences.

 

Then I wonder…why did I write that?

Then the guilt.

The fear I made no sense…

Or shame. Or embarrassment.

There is nothing as off putting to other people as talking about your genitals.

And it bothered me; why did I talk about that?

I even added Robin Williams from the 'Fisher King'.

Then I thought about it…'Fisher King'.

Flapping his dick in the wind.

When I spoke of this…

It was NOT intended to be titillating, or evocative.

I have NEVER been sexy- not now, not ever.

So I am under no illusions about being in any way teasing or tempestuous.

But I do have a dick, and it does get hard.

So what?

Well, I will tell you.

I am fascinated by signs and symbols.

And mythology.

Sometimes, saying something random (seemingly channelled from the subconscious) makes sense in ways other than what you would immediately assume.

The comment was less about sex…& more about fertility. 

The Fisher King is basically a fertility myth.

I am fascinated by it, because I don’t really get it.

Most scholars agree, this myth is elusive; there are many versions of it, and it has been claimed by everyone from Christianity to Hollywood.

I have been fascinated by the myth, trying to understand it.

I even read a child’s version of it as a kid- Goff the little guardsman.

But…we DO know that the Fisher King was wounded in battle…interestingly enough, in the genitals…rendering him impotent, and the land infertile.

Why was it so important?

Celebrating my bounty- indeed, celebrating the ability to get an erection is essentially a pagan fertility rite. 

They didn’t have the same hang-ups about sexuality we do today; in their day, getting you dick to rise was no different than the sun rising.

A part of nature.

Think of Chaucer; he was not considered bawdy, so much as earthy. 

Natural.

In my own case…I see parallels between my life and the myth.

I see a long period of darkness- of drought, and failing crops…

All of a sudden…the wound is healed, and not only I…but the kingdom also seemeth fertile.

My creativity also fertile. 

Like the Fisher King myth…this is a myth of redemption.

This is what my book is.

A redemptive journey.

PLUS…it is also considered a fertility myth.

If you read the myth…

The Fisher King

The Fisher King is a character found in several mythological sources, mostly Celtic in origin. However, he is best known from Arthurian mythology, particularly in the story of Perceval. There are several versions even of that story, but the basic elements are consistent.

According to the story, Sir Perceval is out questing for the Holy Grail, as are all of Arthur's knights.

While traveling, Perceval comes across a strange, ruined land.

In the midst of this land he discovers a castle, and inside there is an old man. The old man has a regal bearing, but is deathly ill; in some versions of the story, his hands are wounded.

The old lord invites Perceval to stay the night. The old man even gives the knight a special sword. After dinner, Perceval witnesses a strange procession.

A youth enters the hall, carrying a white lance that holds a single drop of blood on its tip. Next, two more youth enter bearing golden candelabra. Finally, a beautiful maiden enters bearing a dazzling golden cup.

Perceval wants to ask about these items, but he holds his tongue for fear of offending the old man.

The next morning, Perceval awakes to discover that everyone is gone. He leaves the castle, which then disappears.

Later, he encounters a woman who informs him that the lance was the one that pierced Jesus' side, and that the cup was no less than the Holy Grail itself.

If Perceval had simply asked about these things, he could have brought about the healing of the old man, who is the Fisher King.

If the King were healed, then the land would be healed as well.

Percival wondered what this was all about, what the strange objects were, and why the fisherman should be denied healing, but he unsure whether he should speak or not, so he held his tongue and did not ask for information or explanation. He guessed what the glowing cup was and wondered how it could heal, but felt shy and uncertain, so did not ask. In the morning, Percival arose. He found the castle deserted, mounted his horse, and rode out the gate. Behind him, the castle faded into the mist and disappeared.

The farther he rode, the more Percival realized that he had failed his guest and himself.

 

The greatest mystery and quest of his life lay behind him. But the castle was now gone and when he might again come across the old fisherman, he could not guess. Percival continued his training in knight errantry however and for many years fought and jousted with the knights and armies of Arthur's enemies.

 

Twenty years passed. Gradually, as the years passed, he grew grey and tired of the constant warring and suffering. He lost the certainty that he was fighting for the forces of the light and that the enemy knights he faced were defending the dark. The faces of the enemy began to remind him of his own friends and his younger opponents reminded him of the faces of his own children.

 

He felt the meaning go out of his work and life and began to question whether he should retire to a small house in the forest where he could sit and rethink his life.

Old King Arthur however asked him to go on one more quest, and so he set out late in the afternoon. At twilight, he stumbled across a small lake where none should be, and there near the shore was a small boat with the figure of a man in the stern.

 

It was the same fisherman he had encountered twenty years before, looking unchanged from the first time he had seen him. Percival hailed the fisherman again, asking for a place to stay the night.

 

Again, the Fisher King invited him to stay the night at his house: "just down the road a little way, turn left, and cross the drawbridge."

That night, Percival again witnessed the strange procession, the bringing of the Grail, and the healing of the guests. This time, when the King failed to rise, the aged Percival rose and spoke:

 

"Whom does the Grail serve?"

A voice sounded in the silence: "The Grail serves the Grail King!"

At his question, the crippled King rose from his litter, healed.

 

The court erupted in cheers and all gave thanks. For many years, the castle had waited for a hero who would come and ask this question. Outside, the Land began to change, as fields and pastures began to form in the midst of the forest, crops sprung up, and wildlife returned.

 

Gradually, over the next three days, the castle slowly settled firmly onto its foundation and life returned to the old kingdom. Free of pain, the Fisher King celebrated his healing, but again part of this world; he rapidly aged and after three days, died an old man.

Percival retired to his forest home with his family and was happy, seeing that his life had led up to this moment: despite all the years he had spent fighting useless battles benefiting no one, he had finally had the opportunity to serve something greater than himself.

 

How was I healed?  How was I restored to fertility, to being bountiful?

Because I ASKED the questions.

But it is essentially a fertility myth.

Further…

Archetypally the Fisher King is not only the guardian of the grail mysteries…but is a father god who’s potency is restored when the feminine principle which is also part of him (as manifested in the grail) is freed, and when it is re-united with the masculine principle, as symbolised by the lance, It is only when the wound heals that fertility and abundance are restored.

This is why I never question what I write when it seems to spring from somewhere…beyond my control.  When I post something despite myself, seemingly from some other place.

Because I know it has some deeper meaning.

That is why I’m not keen on censorship.

I might post stuff.

I might think- ‘WOW!  What’s that all about??’

I have faith.

I don’t mind being embarrassed, or made a fool of by my words.

You are welcome to laugh, cry, hurl…

Judge.

Even turn and walk away.

I can take it.

I live alone, have no family, no real life friends.

Like some kind of weird shaman…

I plumb these depths looking for the connections.

Trying to do the hard, painful work…in the hope that I have something of value to pass on.

I told you I wanted to be thankful for my bounty.

(fertility)

I wanted to share it.

This is what I share.

I beg you to allow your ideas and creativity to flow.

Let it out.

No matter what.

Others think of it.

YOU think of it.

Expressing yourself is all that really matters.

The only duty you owe yourself.

Let your freak flag fly.

It might seem weird, bizarre, and even offensive.

But I promise you…eventually, if you are disciplined and determined…

Patient…

It will make sense.

And it will tell you/show you what to do next.

How to be who you need to be.

‘There are no accidents’.

Have faith. 

It always means something…if it comes from the subconscious, and try not to second guess it.  

Have faith in the story.

YOUR story…