The Marriage of Elan and the Mermaid

I've been chompin' at the bit to get into my studio and do some active imagination work. So, I got up early this morning, put on a new CD, grabbed a few pastels, took a deep breath, and began working. Almost a couple of hours later, I realized I had been invited to a wedding...

A few weeks back I discovered a new word...ELAN (with one of those little '-marks over the "e"). I wish I remembered where I saw the word--one of the problems of being an avid reader. I can never remember where I saw "it", nor can I ever find "it" again. But I fell in love with this word. The author definded it as a bursting forth of energy--you know the kind--that "bursting forth" that causes a bird to break forth into song, that "bursting forth" that causes a seemingly dead seed or bulb to break open and shoot roots into the ground, that "bursting forth" that raises new life out of ashes--THAT "bursting forth"! It's called LIFE!

I've been smiling on the inside as I've read two of my sons Facebook posts this weekend. No. 1 son has fallen in love with mountains and rocks and has become an avid climber. Hewent rock climbing (again) during the Labor Day weekend, this time to take an "anchors" course, so he can take his sons and "anchor" them as they climb up and over steep grades of rocks--yeah, I can just see it now. Actually, I have my eyes covered.

No. 2 son took two his two boys to New Orleans this weekend, "hoboin'". They're playing their guitars and harmonicas on the streets with strangers (yes, that's right, strangers)! Improvisional jazz or something like that on the streets of New Orleans, eating beignets and sharing their meals with "hobo dogs". What's a grandmother to do?

But you know, that's what Elan is--it's LIFE! It's that great rush of drama that comes running at you, full steam ahead, with fire breathing out it's nostrils. It's that thing that rises up out of the underworld, morphing from free, easy and beautiful, to huge, vile, and ugly. It's LIFE, in all it's glory, as well as all it's gore.

Seems two of my sons have decided to risk experiencing life from INSIDE, instead of OUTSIDE, looking on. And they seem determined to teach their sons the same thing.

Most of us would rather be safe. Except that LIFE teaches us that nothing is safe. Not the good ole USA, not NYC, not 401K's, not marriage, not religion, certainly not God--none of it's safe.

I'm one of those who lived the first 40 years of my life trying to do the "right" thing, and playing it "safe". I expected marriage(s) to last. I expected that if I went to church, read my Bible and loved God, I'd be a "good Christian". I did the "right thing" that a good Christian woman was supposed to do--got married and raised my kids, went to church, and played by the rules.

Then I turned 40 and the adventure began. I decided to make a bold move on the part of my scared little East Texas heart; I decided to began to really follow it and listen to it. And I have discovered LIFE.

And I've sprouted fish fins from swimming in the deep of the psyche. I've learned about "breathing under water". I've seen the beast--shoot, I've discovered I AM the beast. :) And I am also Beauty. The Dragon and I are ONE. The enemy is me, myself, and I.

And yet, and yet...wow, the experiences. Some of them measured by today's standards as not so good, but still memorable. And the longer I live, the less I demand safety. The more I want to experience LIFE from INSIDE.

So, as I painted this morning, and smeared, and worked and reworked, not having a clue what I was doing or where it was leading me, I found the mermaid and her bouquet aproaching the sea dragon--Beauty about to marry the Beast.

The Marriage of Elan and the Mermaid

Here he comes…
Rising up from the deep waters
Coming toward her from the darkest night…

Friend
Or Foe?
Kind and gentle
Or cruel as death itself?
Morphing from moment to moment
Changing from innocent sea creature
To fire-breathing dragon
Always changing
Not quite certain who or what he (or it) is…

He carries something in his hand
Something extended to She who waits

Might it be his heart?

And She,
Half human, half water beast herself
Rises from the deep to meet him
Dressed as Bride
Holding herself out to greet him

She waits.
He approaches.
They wed.