Sacred Imagination for Chapter 3
Apr. 17th, 2020 12:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pobble_readsToday got somewhat eaten by period pain but i can at least post the Sacred Imagination/Ignation Imagination passage I've chosen to explore for this chapter before i go to sleep.
In Sacred Imagination we try to imagine ourselves in to a passage and play close attention to all of our senses as well as our feelings and thoughts. It's something many people natural do at least a bit as they read by others find it harder. Most people find on or more senses easier to access than others (I'm still short sighted and have both hyperacusis and some hearing loss even in my imagination - possibly if i had developed those later in life than i did then they wouldn't necessarily be part of how my "mind's eye" sees and hears?) Sometimes I identify with one particular character (or flip between two or more) and other times I'm more of a floating observer...
A useful introduction to the method from a Christian perspective is here. I'm sure it's something people from all faith traditions have done but the followers of St Ignatius (Jesuits and others) are prolly the ones that have discussed and promoted it most. (Also i have a soft spot for Ignatius because his feast day is my birthday!)
I find it easiest to do if i can be restful and close my eyes so i recorded myself reading the passage out loud. (And spent the first few seconds cringing about how my voice sounds!)
It comes from near the end of the chapter after the Children have rescued Gobbolino from the mill-race and taken him back to their home.
The farmer’s wife took Gobbolino on her lap and wiped his wet fur with a warm cloth.
“And where do you come from, my little cat?” she asked him kindly. How did you come to fall in the terrible mill-stream? Don’t you know you might have been drowned?”
“Yes ma’am!” replied Gobbolino gratefully. ”I fell in catching fishes. I come from the cavern in the forest up yonder, and the river brought me down here.”
When his fur was dry the farmer’s wife gave him a good drink of warm milk, and while she went out to milk the cows he amused the children and the baby by all kinds of strange tricks that every witch’s kitten knows by heart. He made blue sparks come out of his whiskers and red ones out of his nose. He became invisible and then visible again, and hid himself in all kinds of strange places for them to find him again, in the cuckoo clock, in a teacup, in the farmer’s shoe, till the children were tired of laughter and begged him to be quiet and give them a little peace.
In Sacred Imagination we try to imagine ourselves in to a passage and play close attention to all of our senses as well as our feelings and thoughts. It's something many people natural do at least a bit as they read by others find it harder. Most people find on or more senses easier to access than others (I'm still short sighted and have both hyperacusis and some hearing loss even in my imagination - possibly if i had developed those later in life than i did then they wouldn't necessarily be part of how my "mind's eye" sees and hears?) Sometimes I identify with one particular character (or flip between two or more) and other times I'm more of a floating observer...
A useful introduction to the method from a Christian perspective is here. I'm sure it's something people from all faith traditions have done but the followers of St Ignatius (Jesuits and others) are prolly the ones that have discussed and promoted it most. (Also i have a soft spot for Ignatius because his feast day is my birthday!)
I find it easiest to do if i can be restful and close my eyes so i recorded myself reading the passage out loud. (And spent the first few seconds cringing about how my voice sounds!)
It comes from near the end of the chapter after the Children have rescued Gobbolino from the mill-race and taken him back to their home.
The farmer’s wife took Gobbolino on her lap and wiped his wet fur with a warm cloth.
“And where do you come from, my little cat?” she asked him kindly. How did you come to fall in the terrible mill-stream? Don’t you know you might have been drowned?”
“Yes ma’am!” replied Gobbolino gratefully. ”I fell in catching fishes. I come from the cavern in the forest up yonder, and the river brought me down here.”
When his fur was dry the farmer’s wife gave him a good drink of warm milk, and while she went out to milk the cows he amused the children and the baby by all kinds of strange tricks that every witch’s kitten knows by heart. He made blue sparks come out of his whiskers and red ones out of his nose. He became invisible and then visible again, and hid himself in all kinds of strange places for them to find him again, in the cuckoo clock, in a teacup, in the farmer’s shoe, till the children were tired of laughter and begged him to be quiet and give them a little peace.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-17 10:36 am (UTC)Then when I-as-Gobbolino was entertaining the children it felt good to be making them happy. I owed them so much for rescuing me and this was a very small way to give them something back. Making the sparks felt crackley but in a fun way. I got caught up and a little breathless in the playfulness and excitement of magical hide and seek. It felt good that my minor magical skills were appreciated - in the Witch's Cavern my skills were so minor compared to Sootica and my Mother's so being appreciated by the children went to my head a bit. I wanted to show off and impress them - and keep them laughing with me forever. I felt a little guilty at exhausting them but was looking forward to playing with them more soon
no subject
Date: 2020-04-17 10:47 am (UTC)And it's always nice to have a reason to sit still by the fire (rather than being busy cooking on it!) and feel the warmth, watch the patterns of the flames, hear it's crackles and smell the woodsmoke.
I was curious about Gobbolino too - and a little worried that rescuing him may have put my children in danger. I'm always warning them about the dangerous currents in the mill stream and never to go near the mill wheel and other farm machinery.
I was thinking that maybe this lost kitten had a home and family that missed him and felt empathy for them. But i was also thinking that we could do with a cat about the place and was pleased that my children had found a pet they cared about.