VIBRATIONS OF LIFE REQUIRE MORE THAN 140 STROKES

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 BeethovenWhat I have to write about today cannot be written in 140 keystrokes. Richness and depth that connects us to the vibration of life that exists in all of us require more of us than the way most people normally communicate in 2014. This afternoon, I received an email that was filled with such beauty, I felt an instant need to stop what keeps me forever busy in my life…and allow the feelings that this message generated in the depths of my soul to remind me of my own connection to the vibrations of life.

The letter I was privileged to have read was written 90 years ago by a deaf and blind woman about an experience she had listening to the music written by a composer 190 years ago. Her letter follows:   

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“Dear Friends:


I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy.

Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel not only the vibration, but also, the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roll of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments!

When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, up-curving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
 
Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.
 
As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.”
 
The Auricle, Vol. II, No. 6, March 1924. American Foundation for the Blind, Helen Keller Archives.
  

As I am writing these words, I am listening to the overpoweringly enthralling music that is now connecting my essence with the wonder of Helen Keller in 1924 and that of Ludwig Van Beethoven in 1824. In some profound, mystical way, the three of us are flowing as one in our spirits through the vibration of life that flows beyond time from the heart and soul of a man into the hands and heart of a woman and into my own ears and heart in this moment. These moments we give to ourselves, every now and then, can remind us of the deepest of truths…we are not separate…we are a part of a glorious choir that has been singing through all the souls into all of the hearts and into the chorus of humanity throughout the ages. We Are Not Separate. 

Helen and Ludwig were deaf and yet, they were able to hear by feeling what was inside them. But far too many of us are able to hear and yet, we can be far more deaf to the vibrations of life than either of these two magnificent beings, when they were alive. We have a choice… Continue reading

WHAT IS LOVE?

Language has become the most common way for our species to explain experience; however when we attempt to use words to explain the most meaningful experiences, words, too often, fall short of communicating the wholeness of the experience and are more like splintered, shattered, and scattered shards of a reflection in a mirror. Because LOVE in its wholeness cannot be confined or defined by a word, our shard-like attempt to explain something beyond words falls greatly short.

If we are fortunate–or perhaps blessed–we might experience a few microseconds of wholeness , moments that are sparingly sprinkled in “uncaptureable” wisps of love that allow us to experience knowing beyond the shard, beyond the mirror, beyond the image in the mirror, into the fullness of eternal love inside the heart of our eternal selves.

After an encounter with LOVE in its wholeness, a love that opens us to all of who we are, some of us spend the rest of our lives attempting to remember, to define, to recapture or re-experience what cannot be re-experienced, cannot be captured, defined, or fully remembered from the finite place of our shard-like existence. Like the river that one steps into that cannot be stepped into the same way again, the experience of Love cannot be re-experienced the same way ever again. It is a gift in the moment, yet when we are willing to open ourselves, we can receive one gift of love after another until the sparingly sprinkled moments become overflowing rivers that fill our lives, transforming every experience we encounter into ever expanding rivers of love that allow us to flow in love’s amazing presence for longer and longer periods of time.

After we first encounter real love–but before we find our way to transformation that can lead us into extended if not full-time experience of  love–we can feel frustration because we can also know what is not real or is close but not quite real, and we try to make what is not real or not quite real become real.

We fall in love and for a little while experience love when we feel that depth of our being that we did not know before was possible, but something happens that pulls us out of the experience and into the feeling of disconnection, and then we try to force it to be like what we remember experiencing when we touched our wholeness and experienced love from that wholeness. We don’t realize that after the feeling of wholeness, we started to interpret our interaction with the focus of our love from the limited awareness of the shard of glass-awareness and disconnected from wholeness. As an attempt to reconnect, we might read about love and try to act as if we are being loving. We work out definitions as a way to compare how we are living with the definition. But all attempts lead to more disconnection.

Though love can be experienced in an action it is not the action. Though love can be experienced while in a state of understanding, it is not in the understanding. Love is a state of being that can be in the flash of a momentary awareness though it is not contained by the state or held in the moment, And it can be in an ongoing awareness that exists in the eternal now though love is not the awareness.

Love, in its wholeness, does not occur because of intention or understanding…it bubbles up when we experience ourselves in our wholeness, despite the fact that we are a shard, a splintered piece of the whole. The gift of being alive in our human form is that we can have those most profoundly blessed moments of knowing our wholeness when the shard knows itself as the whole and experiences that wholeness, not only in itself, but in another shard, as well…an Aha moment.

I was writing these words…about the Aha moment…when the phone rang. Continue reading

Your House as a Prison

Hugh Laurie played the roll of tormented but brilliant medical doctor, Gregory House, on the 8-year television series, House. His character suffered from unrelenting, nearly unbearable physical pain because of a medical misdiagnosis that resulted in part of his leg tissue dying and soon thereafter being cut out while he was in a coma. The ongoing physical pain was a reflection of the emotional pain he carried with him from childhood abuse and abandonment that resulted in mental hardening and spiritual disconnection, as well. He was really a good man, but very few could see his goodness, not even himself.

His pain–on all the levels–drove him to cryptic communication, to thinly veiled passive aggressive interactions–sometimes not so passive–and dark behavior that caused him to live in a self-imposed prison, separating himself from anyone who might have been able to love him. House treated everyone–superiors, as well as those under him, patients, and their families–with equal flagrant disrespect. Despite his near sociopathic behavior, his extraordinary abilities allowed him to find causes and cures for illness no one else in the conventional medical system could find.

Apparently, for nearly all of his life, House was able to see though the masks that both people and institutions wore and was unwilling to pretend that the masks were not there, pointing out the hypocrisy with abrasively expressed disdain, a quality that antagonized nearly everyone he encountered, especially those who were committed to maintaining the masks.

For some reason, a few months ago, I decided to record the series I had not seen when it first aired, and I began watching the randomly scattered episodes that pulled me through time and back again, over the lifetime of the series. Because the programs were out of order, it was like watching flash-backs and made the viewing feel like I was putting a puzzle together. An episode I had watched a few weeks before finally make sense when I watched another that was chronologically earlier.

This morning, I woke in the predawn darkness and decided to wait for the warmth of sunrise by watching the episode that had recorded sometime in the night; it had first aired on 10-3-11 and was the first episode of the eighth and last season that began with House in prison.  Not until it was finished did I realize how important that episode would be in helping me see my own prison.

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REFLECTIONS ON THE YELLOW WOOD

I am aware that I have been in a reflective period for a while, as probably is the case for most of us when things like Medicare and Social Security, which used to be something for old people, are no longer on the horizon but are or are soon to be crossing the threshold of our lives. I realize that I don’t feel old, like I thought I would when I was a younger woman looking into the future.

Looking back does not seem such a daunting affair now, as it once was. I no longer need to notice the mistakes with regret or shame; I’ve made friends with them. Without having made the decisions I made, both good and what some would call bad, I would not be where I am in this mystical moment in my life ready to enter the next phase on a road much different from the ones I took before, and I no longer feel the sadness about roads and paths not taken or the decisions and choices made as I did when I first read Frost’s The Road Not Taken for Language Arts class, while in the eighth grade.

Yellow Wood

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 

And sorry I could not travel both           

And be one traveler, long I stood           

And looked down one as far as I could 

To where it bent in the undergrowth;           

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,       

And having perhaps the better claim,    

Because it was grassy and wanted wear           

Though as for that the passing there     

Had worn them really about the same,         

 

And both that morning equally lay         

In leaves no step had trodden black.     

Oh, I kept the first for another day!       

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 

I doubted if I should ever come back.           

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence:           

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,   

I took the one less traveled by,   

And that has made all the difference.

The “ages and ages hence” have come now, and before I step out onto the next road that is ahead of me, I glance back for a moment at the decisions I made:

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Suicide and Ropes

I had been drawn to a discussion stream on the Linkedin Website under the Spirituality and Consciousness group heading. The discussion had to do with suicide. A member had experienced having a brother who committed suicide and wished to talk about it with others because she still carried pain and depression from what had happened. She wanted to know if souls come into the world intending to commit suicide, and if they don’t, do they have to return quickly to work out what they failed to do. A deeper reason may well have been that she carried sadness, depression and many questions about the suicide. Many supported the questioner with empathy and sympathy, and some provided their spiritual understandings regarding our souls’  journeys. One comment addressed the Buddhist philosophy of the Middle Way, in which life is lived with non-attachment, non-judgment. Even knowing this Way, it is possible to slip, as the next respondent stated and feel “terrible, in a crisis or drama of some sort.” I noticed that many respondents commented about mind as a single entity. But my experience is that we do not just have one mind. Continue reading

Laura Died at 96

 
My mother died one week ago, today. She slipped away in her sleep a few minutes after 3:30 in the afternoon Pacific Time on October 12, 2012. One of her last statements was, “My bags are packed and I am ready to go, but the plane has not come for me, yet.” Not long thereafter, her life of struggle and suffering as well as her life of love and caring ended on this side of the veil. Like all of us, throughout her lifetime, she lived from a mixture of light and dark, of great wisdom and a seeming disconnection from wisdom, of tender sensitivity and apparent insensitivity. At times, she was capable of expressing unconditional love that lifted me up, and at other times it felt as if she could withdraw love with coldness that crushed my heart. Continue reading

Genetic Darkness

By Dr. Sandy Sela-Smith

     If it is true that our essence is something that exists beyond physical limitations, eternal, or connected to the eternal…spiritual beings having a physical experience…where has the darkness come from that seems to permeate nearly every front of our individual and collective experience? Whether we want to admit it or not, we all possess what I have come to call the Unique God Essence that is the core of who we are, but in far too many cases our true being has gotten overshadowed by a darkness that is also a part of us that may well go back for generations, millennia, or eons, perhaps since the beginning of human consciousness. This darkness is so deeply embedded in us as individuals, in family and social systems, in our cultures, and in our species, a darkness that has been passed on from parent to child for myriad generations and replicated in unconscious patterns that most of us have no idea we possess.

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INTENTION FOR CONNECTION

On Leap Day, February 29th, 2012, I logged onto Linkedin and found a question for discussion posed by one of the members of the Spiritual Authors, Publishers, and Agents website which asked, “What would be a reason for why you think a person would read your book?”

And…I responded.

In the summer of 2007, I went to a psychic–a medium–of sorts who told me I was going to write three books. When I heard her words, I knew she was being used to tell me what a part of me already knew was to happen, though up until that moment, I had not consciously known it. Almost immediately, I saw the title of the trilogy: The Meaning of Three, and I saw the subtitles of each of the three books: The Mask, Behind the Mask, and Under the Mask. Each book has its own personality…the first is about the all we do to be acceptable to others and to ourselves, the roles we play and how painful those roles often become. The second is about what is hidden behind the mask of acceptability. There is so much we don’t want to know about ourselves and certainly much we don’t want others to know about who we think we are, usually because we believe we are what happened to us, or our responses to what happened. So we hide it all behind the mask and avoid knowing what is there in any way we possibly can. What is under the mask is the being we truly are, the unique god essence that has never been disconnected from the universal spirit, Universal God Essence, of which we are all a part.

The journey I took in writing this trilogy is something that called itself into being and became the creator of my life for 4 years. The books literally wrote my life. I believe there are people who will benefit from the learning that was a part of this magnificent journey I was called to take and those whose unique god essence direct them, will discover my writing in synchronous ways that I could never predict…just as I found the psychic and felt the truth of what she said.

Not a single book that has been written by anyone on this site is a mistake. I believe we all write, first and foremost for ourselves, and then, there are others who will benefit from what was written whether it is one other person, one hundred, one thousand, one million, or more…and those who are called to find the perfect book for their journeys, will find it. Sandy

A member of the Spiritual Authors, Publishers, and Agents site responded to my entry, saying, “I’m very intrigued by your words, Sandy” referring to my statement that my trilogy “called itself into being” ;  and my comment about, “the unique god essence that has never been disconnected from the universal spirit, Universal God Essence, of which we are all a part.”  She concluded with, “May many souls be drawn to the trilogy and come to know what lies beyond the mask!” Continue reading

The Single Garment of Destiny

I received a message from the Peace Alliance that contained the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“We must all learn to live together as brothers or we will all perish together as fools. We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured.”
~ Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

There is no question we are in this together. whether “we” refers to two people in relationship, to a family, groups of people, a nation, or our species. In this time of self-reflection, I choose not to look to others to become who they ought to be before I focus on being who I ought to be, despite the fact that I will not fully succeed until we all succeed. This is my gift to myself and to others, even to those who do not yet know the beauty of focusing on being who they ought to be.

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Impending Doom. . . Or Approaching Transformation

 

The weekend of September 24th, I had the privilege of attending a powerful workshop in the mountains above Denver, Colorado presented by Howard Bad Hand, a Lakota Indian Chief. One of the topics for discussion had to do with what is happening in our world now and in the next 14 months related to the Mayan calendar that has been interpreted by some as marking the ending of human civilization on December 21, 2012. I have read extensively on this subject and have discovered differing perspectives of the meanings attached to our present time and the Mayan calendar.

Some believe the world will literally end following an increasing number of natural disasters that become more intense as that date approaches, destroying more and more of what we know of the world, until some final event obliterates whatever is left. Others believe that the numbers of humankind will be greatly reduced over the course of the time between now and that date, and that some people will remain to rebuild a human civilization based on a balancing of nurturing,  cooperation, and caring, which are healthy feminine principles, with an honoring of the unique qualities of the individual and the protective strength of the healthy masculine energy.

Others believe that we are approaching the End Times as predicted by interpreters of  the Bible who believe this Earth will be destroyed and those who believe in the Gospel will be transported to a New Earth, while the rest will be condemned to eternal hell. Still others believe that we are facing extinction, not unlike the dinosaurs of long ago, and a new species will eventually evolve to take our place bringing on the next cycle of life without humans. Still others believe that both nature and human folly will create unfathomable catastrophes and beings from other planets or galaxies will intercede, whether for good or for bad, to keep the toxic energies of our world from spilling over into the universe. But likely for the vast majority of people, this date of December 21, 2012 means just another day on the calendar, and maybe 4 shopping days until Christmas. And the seasons…they still go round and round on the Carousel of time.

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