Is this despair or divine inspiration? This element has a lot of bad press from the acupuncture community. The association with grief and loss tends to put people off from really confronting what metal is all about. The sense of steadiness in oneself and of connection with the divine in the world makes it worthwhile.
It is the embodiment of the gift of the sensuous. Unlike fire which is about connection with others, metal is about connection with self and with the divine in all of us. It is about carnality, about the beast inside of each us. The P’o, the essential spirit of the metal element is all about carnal or sensual connection with oneself. Of course sex can be part of this connection, but for the most part it’s really about the experiences of the senses. Touch, taste, smell, sight, sound all interact with one another to create a picture of the universe.
The golden, flame-colored leaves in autumn are a gift to the senses and highlight what metal teaches. Walking through a copse of trees in late autumn is a joy to the senses. The brilliant colors mixed with the browns of the trunks and the dead leaves lining the path delight the eye. Each step heightens the sense of touch, even in shoes the feel of leaves crunching underfoot is a delight. The sound of the crack of dry twigs and crunch of leaves is music. The musty smell lingers on the back of the throat and provides the taste of decaying leaves. The crisp, cool air sends goosebumps along the skin, tingling and making me aware of being alive.
This is the most alive time of year. The knowledge that death is all around us creates a consciousness of life and the blessings it holds. As I walk in the cemetery on an October morning to visit the grave of my son, I notice the leaves as they dance from the trees to the ground. Even the trees must let go of that which they created and bore forth as life. I pass the large headstones and reflect on the lives of the adults who now repose below the cold earth. Nearing the area I seek, I see the possibility of agony. The headstones are tiny, many bearing only one date, the baby section. Do I wail and scream or do I realize that the divine spark in each of these tiny bodies was too great to be contained in the shell of human frailty? What connection do I choose?
Metal is about choice. Every day there is the choice to live or to die. It may be more apparent to someone who lives in this element as their home base, but it exists for all of us. Do I rise, face the world knowing that this fragile shell of humanity is not enough protection for the divine light within, or do I remain huddled in the warmth of the covers and shut out the imperfections of the world? Choice looms every morning, every evening. Do I decide to face one more day or do I choose to reunite with my true nature outside the body? Life or death, it is stark reality and a conscious choice.
I think the P’o is the nature of the metal element because it’s all that links us to this human form. Connection to the senses is what tempts us to remain within this fragile shell of life. Others ask “is there a God?” Those who dwell in this element do not need the questions, the answers are etched on our souls. For us, the question is, “How can I remain separated from the rest of my divine light for yet another day or year?” The presence of the divine is intuitive or experienced directly through that link the goes upward to God and downward through the earth and out the other side. I am the universe and shall always remain so, the sensuous is all that keeps me tied to this realm.
Touch, a sense that is directly experienced by so many so casually. For me, touch is the door to my soul. I hold back because the value of the connection to my soul is too great to allow it to be casually experienced. Touch me deeply and my soul sings, yet my life experience is not available for just anyone. I shy from the casual touch, it drains me if I don’t take care to block the entreaty of others. It should be one of the great delights of life, yet the potential for abuse of touch is so great. Touch through skin and touch through words, both have potential for greatness, both great creation and great destruction.
Love is available in every element, divine love in the metal. Worth of self, others, objects is highly scrutinized. Agony results from realizing that worthiness cannot be earned, it is inborn. It must be accessed and that takes risks. Is it the risk of failure that stays my hand from writing, speaking, interacting, or is it the fear of success? Even love needs to be pure, perfect, and deeper than the casual to be of value. The use of casual acquaintances or superficial loves has no place here. It is to the depths, to the death that I go in connection. “Many” is not useful, only the pure, refined, fire-tempered is worthy of connection and love.
The risk is so great in life that it cannot even be spoken. How do I guard the divine, keep it from the contamination of others, all the while allowing it to shine forth for the sake of the world? Yet, I am reminded of Shakespeare, “It is divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will.” I allow the divine in me to make the choices each day, life or death, connection or separation, value or junk.
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