The Mindful Migraine

When I was young, I was an enormous fan of Greek Myths and Legends. I was in awe of Zeus on Mt Olympus looking down on humanity, and adored the idea of Apollo, the sun-god riding a gilded chariot across the skies. Soon, single words were enough to conjure up whole stories filled to overflowing with complicated emotions: Pandora, Medusa, Hercules, Pygmalion, (King) Midas… and Icarus.

Icarus’s story starts with his father Daedalus, who invented the giant maze that was designed to contain The Minotaur (half-man-half-bull). Daedalus’ client, King Minos, wanted to make sure no one knew the way out of the maze, and to ensure the secret was safe, he imprisoned Daedalus and his son Icarus in a high, stone tower on the coast of Crete.

Always the inventor, Daedalus, studied the habits of the birds that circled the tower and devised a plan; he would fashion wings from feathers and candlewax for himself and his son. Soon after, the two launched themselves from a window, and were able to flap out and away, over the sea.

What a rush that would be!

In his excitement, Icarus forgot his father’s advice: don’t fly too close to the water or the sea-spray will dampen your feathers, and don’t fly too close to the sun or the heat will melt your wax.

Exhilarated by the gift of flying (who wouldn’t be!?) Icarus soared higher and higher until… alas… the wax that held his wings together melted and dripped away… and as it fell, so too did Icarus… plunging into the sea where he perished.

[(5 minute) video: The myth of Icarus and Daedalus – Amy Adkins]

OK – so the sad ending implies doom and gloom… true.

But it also holds an ancient moral – listen to your parents – or else!

Yes, there is that, but more famously, the main moral that has survived through the centuries is: don’t fly to close to the sun – don’t let your vanity and ego lead you to new heights you might not be ready for.

Feels a little defeatist I confess (similar to what we Australians might call “tall poppy syndrome”: where people pull others down who try to rise above them), but I do understand the notion that when someone lives life with an inflated ego, it’s not great… for anyone.

A different moral of the story appeals to me more – the idea of BALANCE – don’t fly too high – OR – too low… neither is ideal – find the balance between the two extremes.

If you live life with an inflated ego, shooting for the sun, there is always a risk that you might get burnt.

Spend a life of playing it super safe or giving up, on the other hand, and you risk sinking or disappearing.

Instead, you have to keep readjusting your course – ride the eddies up, surf the downdrafts, then rise again – up AND down – perpetually changing your altitude to suit the situation – somewhere in the middle of bravely bold and cautiously sensible.

My husband is a sun-getter, ever the optimist, bold and brave and (over?) confident, always shooting for the sun and stars. I’m a sea-surface-dweller… slow and steady, not sinking, but not really surfing either… I guess I try to be cool, calm, collected. Together – we make a team – he comes up with the big ideas, and I encourage a bit more homework first. On his own, he might try to teach himself parasailing on a whim, without him, I’d be sitting for an infinity in the castle tower envious of the freedom of the birds.

There’s no reason that we can’t try to incorporate both personalities into our own lives: be bold and join the bungy-jump crew… just be sure to check you’re tethered first. Leap into the abyss and feel the wind in your hair, whilst remembering that many rules were invented for good reason.

A life lived in balance.

NICE.

It can feel like we’re trapped in a maze sometimes, but I like the idea that escaping the drama comes down to a single, simple (but not easy) answer: balance.

It’s something to think about…

Take care taking care lovelies,

Linda xox

PS – when looking for images of artworks I might include in this post, I was surprised that a picture I had seen throughout the years by Henri Matisse (from 1947), was actually titled “Icarus”… now I see it, I can’t unsee it, but I’m honest enough to admit that in all the decades I have been aware of this image, I had no idea it was of the boy with the bold heart who flew too close to the sun and who fell, defeathered, into the bright blue of the Mediterranean sea:

[Image source: Google search screen shot]

PPS – while looking for those pictures of Icarus, Pinterest had the following image which was named “The Ikarus”. It only has a tenuous connection to the theme… but I LOVE it and decided to use it instead of more conventional paintings (which you can Google):

[Image source: Pin on lost in the stars]

PPPS – after I journalled my feelings about this post, I found myself with a few minutes to spare so I chose some stock images on my PowerPoint program and made a clipart montage that is inspired by some of the ideas covered here – if today’s post motivates you to do your own journalling, quick, go to it while the ideas are running hot! (There’s some extra journal prompts you can play with on an earlier post I wrote here). In the meantime, this is the picture I made with clip-art:

[Image source: me (clipart montage on PowerPoint)]

PPPPS – OK, I really need to go get things done (and let you get going too), but here’s one last image… once I realized how good the girl journalling looked with midnight blue hair… I wondered… how would I look with a blue rinse? The answer is… not as youthful certainly – but not terrible! (Although – ouch! – the image does accidentally remind me of those childhood comics where someone who hits their head sees a constellation of spinning stars… perhaps that’s apt – a migraineur with a starry-Icarus-aura!)

PPPPPS – Farewell for now – keep flying… carefully! xox