May 10, 2005 - Summaries - Into a Respite Extreme Environment Magic Drop

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Greetings Everyone,

It is so nice to have quietness around. Honestly, I have fallen in love with the early morning. Even though the birds outside my home sing until sundown, there is something refreshing to hear their melodies first thing in the morning. They are part of the quietness, and time is not present.

Let’s say that another way. Time doesn’t exist until it is time to milk the cows. I don’t think cows are ‘on the clock,’ but farmers schedule time to milk them. Farmers know when nature calls to harvest the wheat, but wheat is not ‘on the clock.’ Ahem, we humans made up time.

If time existed at all, wouldn’t wrens wear wrist watches; wouldn’t dolphins have digital clocks implanted in their foreheads; wouldn’t lilies and posies have provided themselves tiny sundials? Time is another figment of imagination - a well installed illusion.

Into a Respite

The intention for this newsletter is to provide a settling into quiet respite from the nature of your business, or the preponderance of world affairs, or the nature of the natural we read in the last newsletter.

Think of the quietness around you. Do you write or draw to bring quietness closer to you? Is outdoor foliage, seen through windows in your office, part of your environment? Or, do you feel closed in; are any unfiled stacks of papers in sight?

I am guessing my office might be different from most. Recently, a writer gave a class assignment to describe our office as a sanctuary. Should you get fresh ideas, or a nudge for organizing and beautifying your office or another room in you home, the next section will have been worth your reading.

Extreme Environment

My writing sanctuary is extraordinary. Since I am a stickler for organization, everything is in its place called its home.

The noiseless environment in which I talk, design, read, and write is my temple of thought and awareness, because some extremely unusual ideas have been imagined while here at my desk.

The sanctuary isn’t only a home office with fireplace, teak furniture, books galore, old wall hangings and computer, the beauty includes the grove of trees on the other side of a sliding-glass door and porch, a few feet in front of my desk.

My desk faces the rising cathedral of old trees. If I want to actually see the sky, then to the porch I must go, look up, and view the sky’s blue drape behind the old woods.

This is what I want you to see… the grove is on both sides of a creek that is some 30 feet or so below the level of the porch, and that many feet from the porch. So, when you look to the grove while seated here at my desk, all you see is the trees’ foliage – your view from the desk is one very wide and tall bush where birds have rested their nests. Well before dawn, I slide open the window in time to hear the birds warm up with chirps before their duets flow into the sanctuary.

Sometimes, the Internet radio finds its home station in Copenhagen, Denmark, where recorded live concerts and recitals are transmitted even into my wee spot on Earth. The performances are played by excellent artists who have been classically trained and seasoned. Need I say I’m in heaven?

My rapturous sanctuary – for which I am grateful – is a rhapsody of energies I feel as I talk or write or while being quiet. If you allow it to be so, your imagination is an extremely beautiful environment.

Magic Drop

A few days ago, I remembered an experience I had as a three or four year old, and that moment didn't occur again until I was much older, and in a very different way.

As you read, imagine yourself the same age I was. You will hear the voice of this guy as a youngster, until I’m not four any more…

My body is only like three feet tall, and I wear the kinds of high topped shoes that strengthen my ankles. I wear ‘em all the time, but mommy doesn’t like it when I go in the house after playing in the dirt in the back yard. She says my shoes are supposed to be white.

But, I kinda forget about my shoes when I see more int’resting things in the back yard like caterpillars and flies that land on my hand, or little snakes that I run from.

Most times, I squat down to see what’s to see somewhere, anywhere. I’m always lookin’ someplace. One day, I found new kitties and their mom huddled behind a big, tall bush against the hard foundation of the house. Mommy and daddy said we’d give ‘em away, so we did, and I felt bad.

One day, I saw something that actually spoke to me. Well, I think it did. I was squatting, lookin’ to see what was on a leafa grass. I think I saw a little droppa water. I know it was a droppa water kinda wobblin’ in one place, but not movin’ anywhere.

I think I heard that drop say something like, ‘There’s a world inside me.’ I kept lookin’, kinda starrin’ at the drop, wonderin’ what to do next. I was feeling kinda like I didn’t know what to do except stay put. So I did. I couldn’t see good enough to see the world inside the drop. I really, really think that voice I heard is real, but I don’t know what it means.

I haven’t told mommy or daddy about that magic drop, or what I thought it said to me. All I know is that was a magic moment, I still remember it, and, now that I’m so much taller and older, I can imagine all kinds of meanings.

What did you hear when you read, ‘There’s a world inside me’? Remember the last time you attended a live performance of actors, or dancers and singers, or a piano recital on stage. The same creative energies and imagination inside those performers exist in you, too, only the outward results may be different. We are, each of us, interconnected. We share the same quiet, imaginative world inside.