The weekly photo challenge this week is “Treasure”.
I have been collecting sea glass from our cold icy beaches – when it is not too windy to walk on them (one of my grand-daughters is going to make jewellery). Treasure indeed.
And, more frequently ignored treasure: This week I have been spending time recollecting, or indeed re-collecting, riches before unknown … yet invaluable …
This is a quote from my favourite scientist Michael Faraday, talking of the need for self-awareness, though that was not his word for it – he said internal knowledge, a feeling of deficit, mental education…
With encouragement from valued friends I got up the nerve to give a “talk” at the library on Emotional Education – because, following Faraday over 150 years later, from psychoanalysis to neuroscience, quite a lot of emotion, emotional process and pattern, can be named and understood. And, in my view, this knowledge is far too good to be just for the ‘experts’. Everyone can use the bits they find useful. Hence – Emotional Education. [I used to be an academic educator – a rather wordy paper can be found here.]
Or, like Faraday, find internal knowledge, through awareness, with criticism or feedback from reality. I wrote about some of it here on my other blog. And, I have just had a great time with some great people who came out through cold and snow to join in and get curious. We are going to meet up some more times.
Treasure – there for those who look.
My World, Your World, One World 
Re-use of found objects to using self for self awareness you must be the master of segue.
I followed the link, First thought, oh she’s over my head an out reach. Which is something am very much accustom to -being, not the sharpest tool in the shed.
If am following your strings correctly, turns out there just may be a sliver of hope to my understanding. As I am, I think, if only partially a ‘user of self’. Seems it’s something I do for myself an NOT for others, yet I share publicly but not always outright and not always forthright. I try to take the internal thoughts and emotions an externalize it, bring it out and try to connect the dots for myself. I don’t care if someone reads, sees or feels it. I don’t do it for others, again, I do it for myself. I learn about myself. I have no timeline, it is more a journey till death does is it part -a marriage of sorts to ‘thy’ self. The by-product is when someone takes from it or adds to it or affirms what we both have in common.
I doubt very much, that anyone would realize a story of an Ol’ Crow is about coming to terms with the death of my father, not totally understanding more like baby steps in a 100K walk. http://www.beyondplumcreek.com/shtufffs/?p=2230 Nor would anyone really understand what is truly behind a story such as Making Evangeline as the character and elements, simply a vehicle for something else. http://www.beyondplumcreek.com/shtufffs/?page_id=2256
If I had a point to make or to add, then it would that the value in what your saying is to take the steps you’ve listed, do for self first and foremost. That is the only reason for it. Sure put it out there if you like, but in end don’t anticipate anything immediate -seems that the good of self-awareness is a process of trickle down -slow as molasses. Why am not sure. Perhaps its historical -our personal history from birth to present, slightly tainted by expectations -hard to understand ones past if you haven’t learned from future -those things yet to come to the surface
That all said, it doesn’t really matter if understand you or not, but you did make me think.
Am going to drift away now, but I wanted to add. Saturday I read a shorty story, by I women I have grown to admire her writing abilities as tend to be of story telling for reason of self discovery and for her bravery to keep digging inward and sharing what likes to be her.
In this story, she sketched out a scene of a young women being hit in the back with a 2×4 while bent over vomiting due morning sickness, the young was not married, the person whom hit her in the back was her mother, whom thought it would miscarriage the baby. The women bent over vomiting was the writers mother (not sure if the baby inside was the writer or a sibling). Here is the moment of internal discovery, for me. It is not so much in the story itself but in the journey in which the writer herself is struggling with PTSD as a result of an abusive relationship. Am not sure if it is about understand as it is about acknowledging. Difficult to understand everything? Yes? But it is BRAVE to acknowledge and come face to face. Am thankful she does, as it seems to help to understand the world in which we are forced to live. An we forced, we had no choice. The choices come much latter in life, I hope, we hope. I don’t know.
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Regarding the story at end of my long ramble, I meant to add, her stories, poems and sketches are her broken shards of glass. Some polished, some jagged but all are her treasures. And we all have treasures . Question is does anyone care?
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Check your spam, I sent a long drawn out blah blah, that went to moderation and that was the last I seen of it. Or just ignore it, either or it wasn’t all that important.
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ooops it just popped up, sorry
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I love this glass- we collect it on south coast beaches. And among it are little bits of Victorian porcelain, some even with writing on…treasure indeed!
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I have to limit my collecting instinct on the beach – I have too many lovely rocks and pebbles already
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I must admit I get annoyed with people when I find such fragments. Where there are rocks they can splinter, and those can be annoying when stuck into feet or bottoms!
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couldn’t agree more – I walk with a plastic bag too for the unsmoothed bits. Dogs and kids will be running around here and I have memory of my beautiful grand-daughter at two years old hopping for three weeks after standing on a broken bottle
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Oh yes they do. I like to hear about others’ treasures and so I imagine that mine are of some interest to some. Talk of why this – whatever- is treasured leads to stories. I always think you are a story listener as well as a story teller.
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