Tag Archives: Music

wink

26 Aug

I have found myself describing my interests as leaning toward inner growth or inner discovery. Language fails, but this description of inner seems a tidy way to signal to someone who may be along similar paths as I. But actually, along the way, we begin to find that there is no separation between inner and outer. Synchronistic winking in the perceived outer world reflects back this truth.

I found a song similar to one that I have been searching for for months, so I wanted to share.  Here is my best sync in my flow thus far in this marga life.  A few months ago, actually in May when I was driving my daughter home from college and she was unable to help me with the long drive because she was so tired she passed out as soon as we hit the road, I needed to find stimulation to help me stay lively in my driving. I began to wonder if I could learn to “unhear” English. I began listening to the radio talk stations to see if I could stop my mind from deciphering the words of my first (and only:) language, to only hear the sounds but not the meaning. I was unsuccessful; my mind kept jumping right to the words meaning so automatically, I couldn’t stop it. So I kept changing stations to see if I could get this automatic process to loosen in my brain.  It was a long drive. 🙂

I turned to a favorite satellite station that has stories from NPR, not news, but human interest stories all the time. The story that I caught mid-stream was about a French musician who loved American music but he did not understand the words since he didn’t speak English. He had composed a song with words that sounded like English to his ear, but these words were in fact gibberish. Hearing his song on the station at that very moment allowed me to have the very experience I had just been playing with inside my head for the past few minutes. SPOOKY from the human lens, but a solid and loving wink from the way reality actually works through a different lens.  I have been wanting to find the song again, which in my memory, seemed to have been written in the 40’s, but this morning, I found a song by an Italian pop singer who is practicing the exact same exercise with language.  I’ve linked to this campy, delicious play in the field of experience.  Wink!

Then, as I was listening to a video this morning, another sync in the practice this man is talking about in this video.  Wink!

The validation of outer reflecting inner through this experience is ongoing, I know you know.  Wouldn’t it be fun to gather and share these stories with each other? In our sharing, we further reflect our lack of separation, not only inner and outer, but from being to being, on and on. Makes me imagine an Alex Grey painting, each of us, a pair of eyes of the ONE. x

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humans: god’s phalanges, or maybe the cilia of awareness

19 Feb

 

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passion play

9 May

haunted house, woman in red

Have you gotten a glimpse of the dark lord?

He swept me away.

I fell down a hole of his deception.

The body shook,

The body drained of its vital refreshment,

the body hung in a meat locker.

WWW:

Wide World of Weird.

What do I desire?

My desire,

my longing –

a house.

Strange words and inconsistencies,

from the soft lipped sorcerer,

were overlooked in the rush to secure.

I went there; I peeked in the windows.

I saw myself under the tree out back having tea.

Whose property upon was I trespassing?

I allowed.

I watched the show, and I allowed.

Body shook and

shivered to the bone fear;

vulturous thoughts tore out my tendons in the hot sun.

I baked to

an ashy pile, then I was

blown away.

These death spices overpower the soup of our dark times –

out there – some of us eat  each other, raw and bloody,

Bill hicks, yes, it is just a ride and

just a breeze away – the mist from the salty marshes

can caress you with the non duality of the earth without man.

I can even giggle at the scary parts of this silly passion play.

Nothing lost ultimately;

no thing can touch nothing.

The underworld master is in a silly suit – acting his part.

At intermission, he visits the men’s room, and

at the end of the show, he takes his bow,

and pokes you in the ribs –

I scared you, didn’t I?  

Dancing with the Devil in the Pale Moon Light –

batman – the burn, an accelerant if you dare.

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no traps or snares

13 Apr

Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated by Stephen Mitchell:

“…But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes 

EdgarA.Poe

nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation
to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively
from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of
the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident 
that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a
place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and 
down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous
insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in 
Poe’s stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons
and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode. 

We, however, are not prisoners. No traps or snares are set about
us, and there is nothing which should intimidate or worry us.
We are set down in life as in the element to which we best 
correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of 
years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we 
hold still we are, through a happy mimicry,scarcely to be

distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason todragon_and_the_princess_by_cynnalia-d394vxw
mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, 
they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abuses belong to us; 
are dangers at hand, we must try to love them. And if only we 
arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us
that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now 
still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust
and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those
ancient myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into 
princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses
who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps 
everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless 
that wants help from us.”

There is room for all range of peace and suffering.

But Unhappy is more interesting to the mind.

What did Tolstoy see:  Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.    How many expressions of Joy can the suffering mind endure when it wants to cling to its suffering?

I spent many years wearing a groove in familiar areas of comfort, but still could not reduce the suffering.  I remember well that strip of floor by the window of my being.  It is still here with me, still contained in me, just now it can be dwarfed now by the immensity.  The dragons  from the past few years seem to have been revealed and now the princesses are all dressed up for the ball.  My being fills first my body, then the room, then the whole building.  Before you know it, I’m ocean sized and more.Try it; close your eyes and expand yourself out to your real size.

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just say yes

11 Apr

There is nothing special about flowing with the universe.

Sometimes I think flow is reserved for stolen moments in nature, but flow is everywhere at every time for everyone/thing.

When Chloe stood over my bed, where I was grading essays last night with her hands on hips saying she needed a copy of William Styron’s Sophie’s Choice by yesterday and what did I plan to do about it (grin), my mind went into motion trying to squeeze all in.

This morning, a book and a store credit manifest, and still I arrived at work 10 minutes early as this song came on a radio:

STOP!

Some part of my identity and story wants to stop right here and make clear, this is not MY music.  Music makes you lame or cool – masks come up, postures are struck, and naked  here means sharing a song outside my cool, created self.  This song is boppy, perhaps a bit sappy.  My 14 year old jumps around with her girlfriends to this song.  I think that they imagine boys proposing to them  from the conditioned stories of their potential futures.

Beyond the easy interpretation perhaps these words keep me still:  There’s nothing holding you back. It’s not a test –  nor a trick of the mind – Only Love!  So simple, and you know it is… It’s all I want.

I switched to battery and sat with the atmosphere of this song.    A moment to celebrate my aloneness AND my connection to everything.   I am alone in a romantic way, yet  I am a part of all romance.  This sounds like bullshit, but I don’t think it is.

Also I know 😛 that on the side of my palm where the relationship lines lie, a groove has been growing.  I am learning myself.  I am enjoying the space to do so.  I can feel the shape of my other out there, no hurry, no need – just flow.

In front of the car appears the most vibrant male cardinal making his way, through sun and shadow on the grass.  Listening, watching, paused.  He and I become aware of his mate about 10 feet behind at the same moment and  he runs/hops over to her.  They meet face to face and seem to click their beaks together.  Such a moment of connection – but I know that I am not gifted this scene – I am as much a part of this scene as my supposed chores and errands.

When the song is over, the birds are on to their next patch of seeds, worms.  What do they eat?  and what do you know?  There is still a pocket of time to pick up some copies before class.

The flow – we all are here in it together, no separation.  We bless strangers who sneeze in public places; we hold elevator doors; the songs, the birds, the cars all flow from the same source.

So nice when I remember.

(I did not insert a picture of Cardinals;)

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night night, little monkey

12 Mar

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I walk to the grocery, enjoying our warm weather and the longer evening of light after the time shift on Sunday.  While I walk, I calmly listen to the monkey mind.  Such a hyper little thing, at times. I am struck by his (why male?) sheer exhaustion.  For years and years,  the poor thing hardly lets up on his break-neck go go go go go.  Whew.  Deep exhale.

There is space and quiet present; the sound of birds, the distant humm of cars, the breeze on skin coexist with the chattering guy in the background.  Watching him in this way, I see and hear his exhaustion.  The mother role sees his fruitless efforts and wants to soothe his modus operandi on down.

“Hey, think about this.  Hey, look over here.  Hey, judge this situation; judge this person; worry about this thing.   We need to make a plan; we got to think everything through.   Listen to me, emergency over here.  The story of me is who I am…I am, I am, I am… Don’t shut me down, Nooooo!”  Jumping around, all the while.

“There , there little monkey.  No worries.  There is nothing that needs to be done.  I’m not going to shut you down; I’m just watching you from over here, with love.”

He reminds me of the sort of kid that goes full-tilt,  the sort of kid I think will never go to sleep; he is so wired until so very late…and suddenly,  I find him curled up and passed out under the dining room table; his face a reflection of utter peace.

sleeping monkey

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pine forest sway

6 Mar

pines

I drive to the bus stop every morning at 7.  Now the sun is coming up earlier and earlier, blinding us all on harbor view road.  One has to stay alert to see the road, to not veer off into the marsh on either side,  to avoid driving into the sun itself.

I was sitting at a stop light after the girls had gone off to their day. Lost in my thoughts I was,  creating a conversation in my head with a person I have to meet with next week, when suddenly my eyes focused ahead of me to the small pine forest across the street.  Everything STOPS.  Those trees were swaying in a choreography so compelling and alive, I was ashamed for a micro moment, then grateful, then just a pair of eyes watching the dance.

Dropped was the conversation, the story.  Trees were dancing for me.

Every moment is this!  Every moment.

There is nothing in this running commentary in my head.  No preparation is needed for a conversation; in fact, having thoughts of our exchange in my head, ahead of time, kills the conversation when it comes, kills a moment to come before it gets here, stops a dialogue from being a jazz riff, a dance, an improv scene.  Life is improv, if i let it.

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Video

Down Here Below

24 Feb

A Hint of Spring today bathes everything in a new light.   My ears (and more) were gifted a voice – Abbey Lincoln.  The lyrics…

Down here below…
The winds of change are blowing
Through the weary night.
I prayed my soul will find me
Shining in the morning light,
Down here below.
Down here below,
It’s not so easy
Just to be.
Sometimes I’m really all at sea.
You made me when the world was new
And skies were blue…
And I’m here because there’s you.
They say I’ll never see your face
And we’re out there from your grace,
The one you fashioned with your hand,
And scattered all across the land,
But I am happy just to know
That you must go
Where I must go
For there are winds and scars to show
Livin’ here down here below…
Down here below,
The setting sun is shining
On the melancholy mood.
I hear the distant thunder
And the crying of the blue
Down where below

I’m yours alone
The only one to call my own
The only one I’ve ever known
Sometimes I see you
Standing there
Sometimes I’m freer.
And you are here,
Down here with me,
You made me just the way a hear,
Or less feeling, eyes to see
A strange embrace, a simple hand,
A spirit free that says: “I can”,
And I’m happy just to know
That you will go
Where I must go,
For you send me this I know
Living here, down here below,
Living here, down here below,
Living here, down here below.

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God Dives Right In and Lands Behind Our Eyes

15 Feb

Alex Grey

Alex Grey – Transfigurations

The divine had had enough of just wondering about experience.  Upon diving in, she divided, fragmented, shattered into these infinite portals of views.   Landing behind our eyes is much more than a camera view; it is a breathing experience through many sets of eyes, the whole shebang of eyes – of each -and every – thing.  The eyes behind the eyes of the trees, the eyes of squirrels, the eyes of wind, rivers, humans…

I can only relate through my own eyes.   My goal is not to take a walk down memory lane for marga but to explore my memories because perhaps what I remember is much like all of our experiences with this…this…what?  What is a word?  Epiphany?  Realization?  Sensation?  The experience of knowing you are more than just you?

I was in 8th grade when I remember recognizing that odd outside perspective of something experiencing itself through me.  I was walking the long, weird hallways of my middle school, going to the bus at the end of the day when saw the world through my eyes as though I were someone else.

 I said to myself in that moment, “I am a Camera,”  (I didn’t know of the British Film from the 50’s) and I gave my eyes over to IT for a better view.   I showed the viewer, “This is how we wait in the cold, dark mornings for the bus to come at the top of the hill, this is how 8th grade girls talk in the bathroom, this is what they say in the lunch line”…I had a constant viewer with me for a while, observing my life and my mind.

My brother had been diagnosed with cancer and the ego could no longer claim its identity as the sister of the  popular, athletic, older brother, but now I was the sister of the kid with cancer.  By the next winter I was the sister of the kid who died.  Perhaps this explains the sudden shift in perspective.  The unfolding in front of me no longer made any sense in a traditional way.

And then on my wedding day, that same oddness; who sees through these eyes?   Who is watching me do this thing?

Back and forth in every moment, doing and watching the doing, me and not me.

Sometimes I imagined a whole planet of beings were experiencing our world though the portal in my head.  I tried to show them what it was like, objectively.  Perhaps I am responsible for the delay in Contact 🙂

This process is written about in past tense, as if the divine long ago at the creation of the world chose to dive in, but perhaps it is more like a continual process, an infinite interplay in EVERY moment between divinity and creation.

The ego with its serious thoughts continually seems to push aside these moment, but actually this interplay is always present, always right here.

We all share these experiences, don’t we?

Some begin to cultivate this observer perspective – openings can occur here.

This music is not everyone’s tastes, but here, is yet another window of eyes, experiencing:  complete, with a freaky video, too:

Parabola, Tool, Lyrics

So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now
Embracing you, this reality here
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wide eyed and hopeful
Wide eyed and hopefully wild
We barely remember what came before this precious moment
Choosing to be here right now
Hold on, stay inside…
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in…
This body makes me feel eternal
All this pain is an illusion

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“I” have every reason to worry,

19 Jan

but i don’t.  🙂

Improvisation and life – YES in a body is grinning, breathing, morning tea, a bit of a thrash to Seeingm‘s share;  thoughts are a passenger in the backseat…Enjoy Spacious Satyrday!

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