The Undressed Self – The Core Called Home

Dzemul, a traditional Mayan home.

This picture was taken in a small village in the Yucatan countryside.  Most of the villagers’ homes were made of wood planks or wooden poles in an oval shape with a thatched roof covering.  There isn’t a lot of money here so home renovations are limited to the small things.  Most homes I saw didn’t even go to the trouble of adding a touch of beauty.  Within the homes there is very little in the way of furniture – a table, a few chairs and hammocks strung for sleeping quarters in the one-room home.  Most of these homes leave front and back doors open for air flow.  Since the houses are so small, most of the families’ lives are spent behind the house in the yard.

Another view of a traditional Mayan house

The house, a home, a symbol of self.  What is important for a home, for the house?  I wondered about how I spend so much time and effort on making my physical home a beautifl and comfortable place.  And now, when I think about it, I wonder if it isn’t just another mask, another distraction from being with the inner aspect, the soul.

I know I don’t take the same effort with the home that is my body.  I accept my body as it is for the most part.  As for my inner self, I know I don’t hardly try enough to take the care of psyche as I do of my physical home.  And in noticing the simplicity of the home pictured above, I realised that the undressed “self” has its own beauty, a natural beauty.  There is a message there for me, somewhere.

On Iguanas

Iguana on a rock pile near Puerto de Chuburna

There are quite a few natural life forms here in the Yucatan that I have managed to photograph:  birds, insects and animals.  I have frequently found iguanas emerging from piles of rocks or from crevices in walls to bask in the warmth of the sun.  This fellow had his cheeks puffed out, something I had not seen previously in my wandering through the countryside with the camera.  My first thoughts were that this likely had to do with searching for a mate, for the feminine.

Looking at the iguana in the photograph back on my computer after the walk, I thought of urobos, the lizard who tries to consume himself, to feed himself, to somehow become transformed.  And then as I looked at the head, I had a fleeting thought that it resembled a penis.  A penis in search of nourishment, in search of nourishing, in search of the feminine.