TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

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Energy of Spirit, Life of the Mind and a Sense of the Ineffable


What does the magnetic energy of the earth have to do with the mind and spirit? Well, as it turns out… EVERYTHING!

Hypnosis, creative inspiration, meditation, mysticism– all of these states have something in common. They are all related to states of mind with the same pattern that have been measured by scientists to be found in the alpha pattern of brain waves. The alpha state.

There are 4 states of consciousness. First there is the beta state or normal waking consciousness which is measured by scientists at 13-30 herz or cycles per second. Herz is the measurement for 1 cycle per second. 13-30 herz is associated with the everyday state of awareness. There is the theta state of dreaming which is measured at 4-8 herz or cycles per second and the delta state of sleep at 1-4 cycles per second. This is associated with sleep and dreaming along with the delta state. Then there is the gamma state which weighs in at 25-80 herz. This state is associated with when the brain is hard at work in the waking state. And finally there is the alpha state of consciousness at 8-13 herz or cycles per second, peaking at 10. This is the state that we will focus on here. It is the state present during hypnosis, creative inspiration, meditation, mysticism and religious states of awareness.

The alpha brain wave pattern resonates with the magnetic rhthyms of the earth which also are most concentrated at 10 cyles per second. Here’s the thing– states of mind in the alpha state are vibrating with the same rhythm as the magnetic rhythms of the earth. These alpha states have long been associated with meditation, spiritual states, mysticism and A FEELING OF ONENESS WITH ALL!! Scientists differ as to whether or not humans are affected by the magnetic rhthyms of the earth. It seems to me that the feeling of oneness, the feeling of the ineffable and unity, is experienced in alpha states due to its synchronicity with the peak magnetic rhythms of the earth. Think of how synchronous feelings of oneness occur when the mind listens to music or pulses to the beat, witness a beautiful sunset or engages in religious ceremony.

We are talking of a feeling of oneness with all, unity with the earth. Eastern religions, in particular Hinduism, talk about oneness with all, unity. As my Indian friend, Anjali, has told me, Indian temples have long been built purposely on places on earth where the magnetic energy is strongest so the temple visitors may feel the energy. And Indians are instructed to wear silk to temple because it is a strong conductor of energy. In addition, the YouTube video, “101 Amazing Facts about India, the Indian population and Indian Culture” put out by FactsNet, says that Indian temples have copper plates to absorb the energy of the earth. The spirituality of India is the energy that is in synch with the rhythms of the earth. These bring about a feeling of oneness, closeness to God and all nature. The Hindus plug into the feeling of oneness with nature and the earth because their brains are sychronized to the rhythms of the earth. I have talked about nature as it relates to religion very often with my private guru, Sachin. For Hindus energy is all important. Because our minds cannot really easily fathom praying to energy, there are many Hindu gods and also no “head” god as Christians believe in a personal God. It is hard to think of praying to energy. I connect through nature and think of God as a personal God just to pray to “Him” but I believe Energy is our God. That is just my thing. Things that bring on the alpha state connect to the earth, connect to the Energy of the earth, connect us to our apprehension of the holy.

It seems ironic that in this day and age, with the scientific developments and advances that have been made, we know so little on the nature of man’s waking state of consciousness… so little on the potential of the human mind in altered states of consciousness. ASC’s include some of the highest states of mind known– creativity, higher consciousness, cosmic consciousness, religious and mystical states, peak experiences. Out of such states of mind come some of our greatest achievements. We all can share in this greatness, taste the sublime, through alterations in the waking state of consciousness. People feel their lives profoundly changed for the better by what Maslow has termed “peak experiences.” And people best able to accept death are those who have experienced transcendence. And for well over millions of years, people have spent centuries passing on written and oral traditions down through the ancients, ideas on consciousness and the need to develop higher consciousness, isn’t it time for the rest of us to pay heed ?

Just Renters


The house that we think of as “our” house does not belong to us.  Not because we are still paying the mortgage on it. This becomes evident one morning while sitting in a moment of calm before the day has begun, watching the bird feeder which my husband lovingly is filling.  He has dumped out the seeds too big to fit through the wire mesh of the feeder.  About 10 little birds, sparrows and juncos and sometimes a dashing male cardinal, are feeding on the seeds on the snow-covered ground.  They are not scared off by the lone squirrel who comes to eat the peanuts from the mix.  Larger birds flock to the now-full feeder. The largest birds, too big to land on the feeder, sometime take over the small bird territory, eating seeds on the ground.

The snow is falling as we prepare to go to work, cleaning up the kitchen and locking up the house.  The birds fly around in my mind.  So vulnerable they seem yet so brave, so tiny yet enormous in their freedom to take to the air.  I want to hold them in my hand and stroke their soft, downy feathers, give them love.  But truth is, this is purely a selfish wish on my part for they don’t need my love.  They don’t really even need the bird seed my husband religiously puts in the feeder.  There are bushes out back with berries which they love.  It is I who need them, to make me feel happy, to make me feel loving, to make me feel alive and connected to something larger than myself.

As we pull out of the driveway I take another lingering look at the birds in the brightening light.   And then it hits me.  They get to stay there all day as we drive off through the snow to our respective jobs in the cement jungle of a nearby city.  We drive past horses, grazing in a neighboring meadow.  Same deal.  Often I make an effort to remember the birds and the squirrels and the horses to bring calm to a fraught work day.  Yet I usually get so caught up in my frenetic, little life that I forget to think of them.  Or if I manage to conjure them up, the image of them in my mind is thin, pale and lacking in substance.

I imagine the animals laughing at us as we have to drive off to go to work.  Our house belongs to them.  Sometimes they even invade our living quarters.  When we first bought the house, it had 50 or so little brown bats in the attic who would occasionally fly around the bedroom at night.  One year we had a pair of squirrels.  We even had the company of a milk snake one afternoon.  And every fall as the weather turns frigid, the field mice run in.

A little more thought on the subject reveals to me that in actuality we own nothing.  Not our house, our spouse, our children nor our pets, not even the body we inhabit.  All of these things are on loan to us, rented to us if you will, by the Maker of the sun and the moon and the stars.  Such a wealth of beauteous bounty is there for us, ours to enjoy for the mere act of attention.  The trees, the summer breeze, the blanket of snow in winter, the flowers of summer, the butterflies, the deer who eat our lilies, the possum, the ever-changing species of birds, the occasional coyote and the thousands, if not millions of insects underfoot in a terrestrial universe, to say nothing of the universe above our heads and the trillions or gazillions of stars, the planets, the sun, the moon.  And yet we are so caught up in the dramas of our mundane lives that we fail to duly honor the ever-present gifts except in periodic snatches, when we turn our attention outside ourselves to the piece of earth we rent.  We may pay a sum to rent a piece of the earth but that piece contains a seemingly infinite multitude of gifts given for the taking.  Or rather, I should say, for the renting.

A Short Winter’s Tale


I cry red berries

wash them with teardrops

So you can eat them in the morning

with your breakfast

as you listen so intently

to the news on the TV

I want lifetimes

with you…

Without you

I would be

shivering in the snow

tearless

berryless

bereft.

The Trees of Winter


Every year what budded in autumn, blossoms full blown in winter– my love affair with trees.  Trees that were drop-dead gorgeous in their fall colors are now bare, with the exception of evergreens and a few stray deciduous trees that refuse to relinquish their leaves.  Now the trees are stripped down to their souls and their souls sing a siren song to the universe.

The tops of trees lift my spirit; brushlike they paint the sky the baby pinks and blues of mornings, and the majestic magentas and violets of day’s end.  Each tree has its signature shape against the sky, like a fingerprint or a snowflake, similar yet each unique.  Some treetops in their bare state are shaped like a fancy coiffure; others look like wrought iron filigree.  On distant mountains, against the snowy ground, some look like stubble on an old man’s unshaven face.

It is the colorful winter sky showing through, and showing off, the bare branches that woo me.  The bare curvaceous branches are stark, dark lines against the bright of day and the inky sky of  night.  These resplendent creatures are living lines that explode.  Branches tangle like the lines in a Jackson Pollock painting.  Others curve in the sensuous lines of a Brancusi sculpture.  Buxom tree trunks stand strong surrounded by their dead blossoms and their burgeoning offspring like a Renaissance Madonna. In truth these trees are not like art at all.  Rather art imitates them– their beauty provides the timeless inspiration for artists, writers and poets of all ages and styles. 

Trees not only inspire, they themselves are paragons of diversity.   One look out of a car window while driving on the Taconic and one can see squat pines alongside towering majestic firs, birches interspersed with maple and oak.  And together the different brown and tan barks interspersed with evergreens create not only a mosaic of contrasting colors, but display an example to inspire humans to live together in peaceful unity.

These beneficent beings carry the heavy, dark grey clouds of winter.  When it snows the tree trunks become canvases for the abstract patterns of windblown-snow, while the serpentine branches are outlined in white.  In ice storms their branches become chandeliers, each enveloped in glassine ice, tinkling in the wind.  While in the melancholy of a winter rain, the branches become oiled skins of snakes weeping to the ground below. And finally, in the night sky, the branches hold the stars in their arms, those with leaves holding them in their hands, as they nurse the moon.   

All trees, no matter what their species, age or height, stand tall in proud humility, their arms reaching up to the Heavens to our Creator in prayer– soft-spoken beings of peace and tranquility towering over us, while the little creatures race around distractedly below. 

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