October 2024 Dispatch: Digging in the Dirt, The Fire of Life, and Worm Food

Greetings Galaxy Friends! Welcome to the month of October, the time in the Galaxy where we celebrate Moody Yoga Playlists and The Shadow. It’s another one of those themes that never gets old, and we’ll probably observe it every October, because it gives such fertile ground for contemplation.

The other morning, I was taking a walk and had Iggy and the Stooges on as my morning soundtrack, like any good Detroit gal would. “Dirt” is one of my favorite Stooges songs: it’s incredibly sensual, with Iggy reveling in his sexuality, demanding of his partner that they feel the desire and fire that he feels inside. It’s palpable. If I were asked to answer James Newell Osterberg, Jr.’s question, “Do ya feel it when ya touch me?” I feel certain I would answer YES.  

But also, he keeps saying the phrase “I’m Dirt.” As I was walking, I kept thinking that phrase reminded me less of sex, and more of the inevitability of death, as in: I’m going back to this dirt someday. But I couldn’t deny how often the two intertwine. It seems like we uncover more of a lust for life (see what I did there) when we dig into the mud and acknowledge that we reside there a lot of the time.

PS, this album cover is so weird and makes me giggle every time I get it out to listen to it.

“I’m dirt” led me on to contemplating William Blake as I kept walking. I do all my best thinking on walks and bike rides. One of my favorite, weird, trippy William Blake poems is “The Book of Thel,” which sets up the realms of Innocence and Experience that he would flesh out more fully in later works. And if you haven’t taken in William Blake’s poetry with his original etching artwork, you’re missing out. He always meant for his poems to be accompanied by his artwork, to fully flesh out the understanding of them.

Thel is a shepherdess who spends all of her time wandering the valley of Har, wondering why we are all destined to fade from life to death. She talks with flowers and clouds, and they try to comfort her, but she sees that her life is somehow different than flowers and clouds. The cloud suggests she talk to the Worm, whose voice she cannot even hear, and which opens up a can of worms, so to speak. Thel is invited by a Clod of Clay to the underground realm to view the prison of death. She is led to her own grave, where dark voices ask darker and darker questions. They’re pretty terrifying, as well as evocative and maybe a little erotic:

"Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction?

Or the glistning Eye to the poison of a smile?

Why are Eyelids stord with arrows ready drawn,

Where a thousand fighting men in ambush lie?

Or an Eye of gifts & graces, show'ring fruits and coined gold?

Why a Tongue impress'd with honey from every wind?

Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in?

Why a Nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling, and affright?

Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy?

Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?"


Basically, why are we human, with senses that perceive suffering, violence, and fear, as well as beauty, desire, and delight? Thel hears these questions with growing horror, and flees the scene, back to her valley of Har. I’ve always understood her flight as a rejection of living in the world - and by rejecting it, she’s doomed herself to remain as she is forever, a beautiful, virginal, but never-changing prison of Innocence.

The cloud has what I think are the most beautiful words in the entire poem, as he seeks to comfort Thel contemplating her eventual death; that she will be the food of worms. He says:

"Then if thou art the food of worms, O virgin of the skies,

How great thy use, how great thy blessing! Every thing that lives

Lives not alone, nor for itself…”


Oh wow. Those lines hit me so hard every time I read them. I might get that tattooed on me, Galaxy.

Living, really living, is agreeing to be in relationship with other living beings. 

And living, really living, is also agreeing to be bound to the inevitability of death.

And living, really living, is acknowledging all aspects of who we are: the violent, the sexual, the beautiful, and the divine.


When we turn our faces to those scary questions, we become a little more whole, and we become a lot more vital. Digging in the dirt uncovers that fire that Iggy Pop talks about. In fact, I don’t think we’ll really have access to it unless we get a little dirty.

So whether we call it the Shadow, or just The Dirt, this month you’re invited to turn your face toward the things that you might otherwise ignore. By embracing the scary things, the sensual things, our own capacity for both greatness and base violence, you might begin to actually live. And really living means evolving, which is both terrifying and exhilarating, and truly, why we’re all here on earth.


Do ya feel it?

Anna

Here’s a little archival footage and photos of the Stooges performing at the Grande Ballroom, set to “Dirt.” Has there ever been a sexier guitar line? I don’t think so. Enjoy.

(fun fact: Russ Gibb, founder of the Grande Ballroom, was a teacher at my high school, AND he went undercover for a week as a student when my parents were at Cooley High School in Detroit, circa 1969)

What I’m Reading…

I Stan all things Gillian Anderson, so I’m going to dive into Want: Sexual Fantasies by Anoymous, collected by Anderson. I love the idea behind this: prioritizing and elevating the voice of women and providing a space for them to be heard, normalized, de-stigmatized, and de-shamed! One of the entries in the book is by Anderson herself (of course, we don’t know which).

If you pick this up and read it, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think of it! We’re digging in the (good and sexy) dirt together this month.



Previous
Previous

November 2024 Dispatch: “There is a teacher nearby, and a teacher beyond the beyond.”

Next
Next

September Dispatch: “Thus the Seer abides in its own true nature.” (or, the usefulness of dualism and Anna on the beach.)