Tag Archives: connections

The Cosmic Song and Dance

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Tying in with the main article on Circles within Circles here is a piece of prose and a poem on the subject of the great cosmic dance both written by yours truly:

moons & stars

Music, music all around

Can you hear it: The Music? It’s all around you if you only have ears to hear. Go on open them; take a deep breath, close your eyes and just listen for once, really, really concentrate on the sounds of life, the universe, everything around you: the music of the spheres, the rhapsody of creation.

I’ve always been able to hear it – the ohm, the notes that flow through the spaces in between the stars. A noise quite unlike any other, made up of the sum of all other sounds: the crackle of space energy, remnants from the biggest sound of all – the Big Bang, the first of all sounds … Star Music. If I tune in I can hear the song of the ocean even without a seashell held to my ear. When I still my consciousness I feel the vibrations of rocks and stones, and hear the quiet susurrations made by grass growing, petals and leaves unfurling. In my heart I feel the deep moans of  huge trees straining under the weight of decades, centuries even, of earthly knowledge, and the sounds of great whales serenading the planet and calling to their cousins, the Angels, above and beyond. Can you? The whole universe is singing for your benefit, for our benefit; a daily opera more real than any TV Soap or Covent Garden performance.

Science Fiction writers talk about the silence of space. No! No! Nooo!  Space isn’t silent, Life isn’t silent – it’s shouting, screaming out to be heard; a glorious choral cacophony of rejoicing and thankfulness, purely because it exists – and you can listen in any time you want; no subscriptions, satellites or aerials needed.  All you need to do is take time, be still, listen, reach out with your consciousness, and you’ll hear it whispering … singing … shouting … at you.

So now you know! As you go about your daily life keep your ears wide open. Listen out for those amazing acappellas of ordinariness: the percussion beats of rain as you take shelter in the park, the cracking of ice thawing on the surface of winter puddles and the metronomic drip drip drip of icicles melting, the pizzicato nonsense of garden birds heralding the silvery dawning light of morning, the symphonic scratchings and rustlings of tiny bugs and worms working the earth, the giant guitar strums of wild winter wind in wires, and the full orchestral power of storms and oceans punctuated by the slow sad booming heartbeat of our precious put-upon earth. Listen to the:

flapping, tapping, trickling, tooting, hooting, hissing, clicking, clattering, clashing, crackling, hushing, rushing, whistling, wailing, whining

wonder of this noisy world of ours. Revel in the healingful purrings of our furry feline friends, rejoice as they join their brother wolves and howl at the moon, and join in if you dare. Then laugh along with the cheerfulness of canine  barks and equine whinnies,  and the friendly chortlings and snuffles of guinea pigs and rabbits, the croak of frogs. Cry with the sheer splendour of recorded compositions on vinyl, CD or I player or sung in Sunday Gospel choirs and Monday morning school assemblies and Friday night drink washed bars. Every minute the digital memories of words, thousands upon thousands of conversations (happy, sad, indifferent, or just plain cruel) pass through the telephone wires. Can you hear them calling to you? Do you heed the crackling of electricity in the pylons, or the humming of data in the ether, busy travelling the worldwide web, and urging you to wake up and join in the great concerto of life?

Above all, can you feel, deep in your soul, the harmonic human variations on a life theme:

babies crying, lovers murmuring, people chuntering, chuckling, chanting, chattering, moaning, groaning, panting, praying, whispering,

weeping, shouting, shushing, snorting …. and yes, singing … singing everywhere.

There’s a billion, billion galaxies out there, each full of life; moons and planets all spinning like tops; moons orbitting planets; planets orbitting suns; suns revolving around galaxies; swirling galaxies circling endlessly around each other. All that energy generated: pouring though the Cosmic Radio; everything, everyone, singing together in universal connectedness and concord. Beyond that, in perpetual and holy synchrony with the physical universe, the sound of Angels: the beat of mighty wings, the ecstasy of heavenly voices; Celestial conductors keeping our Universal Choir singing in unison. No-one is alone, nothing lonely – because we’re all making Star Music together. So listen won’t you! You’ve been told. Music is all around you … just listen … and then Sing.

  night sky northern hemisphere

The Cosmic Dance

Starlight tells a strange, strange story

Of time’s fiery beginning

When all was gas and elements

Around nothing, slowely spinning

 

So far it travels, the tale it tells

Is of a universe without form

A swirling tide for eons long

A roiling, boiling thing of storms

 

Still speeding on through space, it speaks

Of a thousand suns so bright

That whirl, and waltz, their fire throughout

A million long galactic nights

 

Then not so long in cosmic terms

The suns spawn rings of worlds

That in their circling, spinning turn

Into that dance are hurled

 

Upon a world, a molten place

Comes lightening, then, and cooling rain

Electrons form, like spinning beads

To start their own entwining chains

 

An intricate dance of twirling pairs

That spiral round and multiply

A pattern for the greatest dance

Of all, allowing life to leap and fly

 

First light, that through the void has spun,

To us, brings tales of awe and chance

Voyaging on, through space it comes

To take our hands, and lead us in the cosmic dance

night sky southern hemisphere

 

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Mindful Meditation Course – my connections with the Earth

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Earth bubble meditation

For my first mindful meditation exercise I was asked to reflect on what the Earth meant to me – how it nurtured me. It was delightful and I churned out the usual clichés of firm foundations, food, water, oxygen, cycles of life and death etc. etc.

But it’s not true – that’s how I want it to be, not how it is! What does it really feel like – standing here, on the earth, at this time in my life – possibly how it’s been for all of my life? In reality, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of a volcano – as per Torville & Dean’s Bolero dance, or at the end of a road, like that at Aldbrough, the one that just ends in a warning sign as it steadily falls, yard by yard, metre by metre, year by year, into the ocean – ripped from the very foundations of rock and chalk and sedimentary mud. At any moment, I feel as if I might tumble over the edge of that broken road into the loving arms and relative freedom of the wild, wide ocean, or plummet into the burning purity of the volcano – no lover to keep me company though – no lovers pact there; or worse that gravity will fail and I will drift off into the void, no longer connected to this earth at all – I will just float off drifting, hopefully peacefully, in space forever – a pathetic and eternal monument to a broken heart.

And isn’t that what I yearn for anyway – as Stardancer – to soar off into the vast dark emptiness, and dance amongst the stars.

How can I be connected and nurtured if all I ever want is to vanish into my fantasy world – one so much nicer than this one, where I’m loved and protected and strong and necessary. Instead I’m slowly and inexorably dissolving into invisibility and nothingness.

Despite my love of gardening and environmental issues; despite regular grounding exercises; my use of haematite crystals and aromatherapy oils; my Qabala tree meditations; my Happiness group (where I seem able to help everyone but myself) … my connection with earth is tenuous and becoming more so as each day passes. Each empty day … when I wake wondering if today is the day everything changes; it never does, of course.

So piece by piece, thread by thread, I disconnect those links with earth, preferring my inner world of subconscious and conscious dreams. Will I really disappear, will one day, someone come to visit and find nothing left of me except an empty pile of clothes on the floor or a rumpled heap of bed linen, whilst I swan off to … well … actually … that’s private. Anyway, let me say – wherever it is, I welcome it, it cannot come too soon; but, hell, even this doesn’t materialise – I’m even invisible to my dreams.

I’m not depressed – please don’t get me wrong … just lost, and invisible, and disconnected … yet with so much love in my heart for this beautiful Earth, and so much more love to give elsewhere to whoever, whatever, whenever … here, or in desperation, elsewhere. No not depressed, just a tiny bit mad, I think. Now I’m justifying the unjustifiable and unnecessary – and that’s self pity. Not a good look!