Alpha brain waves cycle at 8-12 cycles per second
Alpha brain waves are present in most altered states of consciousness,
as in meditation, flow, creative states, religious experiences,
In altered states of consciousness we feel one with the earth.
The magnetic rhythms of the earth cycle at 10 cycles per second.
With alpha we plug into the rhythms of the earth,
hence a feeling of unity with our Mother.
pleasure at moving to rhythms of music
as in the Indian dance video below.
Some humor is thrown in for lightness of being,
as Shah Rukh Khan and Ranbir dress as women
and try to follow the gorgeous dancing diva, Madhuri Dixit, in Indian dance.
and ponder the importance of cycles and rhythm!
Trees have fully blossomed
the clouds are fluffy white
a glory day
Trees were starkly bare
the beginning of the same week
the night pregnant with frog
Though I write about meditation, spirituality, animal rights, mental illness and nature on this blog, I would be remiss in not sharing my passion for Indian dance and Bollywood movies. Bollywood movies, like Western movies, are vessels of escapism, but Bollywood movies add morality, family values and frequently, religion, into the mix. The dance and music is uplifting and, yes, sensual, without resorting to the blatant obscenity of Western films.
In this excerpt from the film, “Khalnayak,” Madhuri Dixit and Sanjay Dutt star. Madhuri is the diva of Indian dance and, in fact, I am taking free online lessons with her just for the fun of it. And fun it is. Madhuri makes no bones about using one’s feminine wiles to beguile. If interested the lessons are available at http://dancewithmadhuri.com. Sanjay Dutt is the handsome, irresistibly vulnerable heartthrob of the Indian screen and he dances as well. Most Bollywood stars not only act but dance, too.
In this scene, Madhuri Dixit plays an undercover cop acting as a dancer to allure and apprehend the soft-hearted criminal, Sanjay Dutt. They have great chemistry and the dancing is definitely an earthly pleasure, a blatant manifestation of Maya, to which I am attached. But I think I must follow to see where it leads. Experiencing writer’s block and artist’s block at the moment, perhaps dance is good for my soul. Critics might say my interest arises from a Bipolar mania or an Asperger’s obsession. Perhaps. I don’t know. I am certainly not manic at the moment. All I know is that the allure of this form of Maya is powerful, and to deny its existence may lead to the necessity of pursuing this manifestation of it in another life. Paramahansa Yogananda says that all life is Maya, a picture show. Perhaps by indulging in Bollywood films, I may get a new perspective on so-called “reality” and see it as Yogananda did, as a film show of the earthly passions, a dream from which we will awaken one day.
Sheltered from the rain
our house in view
how lucky we
to have a home
sheets of rain
but focusing on gratitude
for a home to go to
when the rain lets up
an illusion of security
in my world of delusions.
It is 3 A.M. and it is another night I cannot sleep. I have taken two sleeping pills to no avail. When I am manic sleep does not come easily. I write. I eat. I check email. I pace the rooms back and forth, in and out of bed. Luckily my husband does not wake during my perambulations. The mania is not of the inflated ego variety, though I have had that at an earlier time in my life. Years ago I remember going by Harlem on a bus route home one night when I was flagrantly psychotic and proclaiming, “These are my people!” Why I said this I couldn’t tell you now– sparked most likely from some manic feeling of camaraderie. But, of course, it was beyond grandiosity and just plain crazy (yes, that is a psychiatric term). Perhaps the roots arose out of the closeness I had with my Sicilian grandfather who was not exactly white and who had much spirit– what an African-American might call “soul.” And from my father, a jazz trombonist, who spent his youth sleeping in bathtubs in Harlem when he would come to the city from white suburbia for jam sessions. He, too, like my grandfather, had “soul” hidden under white skin.
In any case, thanks to the anti-psychotic family of medicines I am not grandiose tonight. I did forget to take my meds the other night and, like Karma, that affects everything about my life. I am just raring for the day to start, for the morning to come. I see a drunk sitting outside on a stoop smoking. I want to see, not the people of the night, but the purposeful people of the morning, going to school, going to work, walking their dogs. Two hours and forty-five minutes to go. And then time to wake up, have coffee, pray, make plans for the work of the day. How can fifteen minutes seem like an hour? How can the cool night breeze masquerade as a morning zephyr? I will make one last attempt to go to bed and sleep. First, I will post a video of Jusuf’s, formerly known as Cat Stevens, of a beautiful hymn he sang, “Morning Has Broken.” I am also posting a photo I took of a marsh in the morning light. Enjoy! And Good morning!
This was written a year ago in a mild manic episode. Right now I am fighting depression triggered by Lyme disease and antibiotics. I have zero creativity so resort to rewrites. Hope to be back writing soon and commenting on fellow bloggers’ posts. Please excuse the silence but that is how it is being Bipolar. (Click http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/ellen-stockdale-wolfe.html for information on, and to purchase, my Bipolar/Asperger’s memoir.)
a lightness of being
want to share
the scintillating spark
and his cohorts
music often mania makes
is this mania
is it the catepillar
coming out of the chrysalis of depression
being Bipolar bears
even after 6 decades
a gift to me
from my brother
his legacy to me
because he loved him
and because I missed him
too late to share the love
my gift to you
just listen and let
soul to soul transmission
its music magic
in a crescendo