Last night Jodi gave me a roar, and this morning I thought of lions, forgetting about tonight’s full moon in Leo.
Its not unusual for me to think of lions – they are potent symbols and often used in alchemy – red, green, pointing to desire, to the work of making gold.
They remind me that Venus and the Sun are not so very far apart, of the tarot card, Strength (also called Force) in which a pregnant woman gently holds the mouth of the beast.
Something else that Hillman writes stays with me – that the dry desert of the heart is the birth place of lion cubs – stillborn – needing to be roared into life.
Perhaps I love this image – of cubs being roared into being inside my heart – because of the promise it holds, awakening the poetic, beautiful animal side of love.
None of the transcendental, ‘spiritual’ models of love hold me like this. To me there must be sulphur – desire – and salt – experience, for love to be made whole.
But this passage seems to say that heart-love is like the sun, that hearts-thoughts and imaginings are akin to consciousness, solar, central and essential to the point of taken-for-granted-ness.
It makes me wonder what else the heart has to say other than what is always there, circulating, beating out its rythym and keeping the body alive.
Are lion cubs, deserts, romantic poetic images the thoughts of the heart or just ideas about the heart?