Thursday, May 19, 2011

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"...


"...It comes from the center of the (Celtic) heart. The place of self determination, preservation. The primal scream. The cry of life that tells us all I am here. When someone shakes us from the pre histortic sleep of the womb.


"I am alive."



It is the place where the body takes hold of it's soul.


Once upon a time, I dated a musician. He showed me how two guitars, both in tune, could communicate.  "If both are in tune," he said, "when I pluck this string -" and he did so that I could hear the sound, "The same string on the guitar you're holding should vibrate.

And it did.


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"...

That's how I've discribed the mate of the soul.  That  first cry, the new soul vibrates to the world, "I'm here."   and begins. It's our long search for home.  It's our search to find that other turned to us and we to them.  People who meditate will talk about connecting with life by meditation and uttering the universal "om".   We're told that the world of that sylable can only be known by the "enlightened".  I'm not sure.  I think that we know it without being told because of it's link to that primal cry that's uttered when we leave the water and draw that first breath of life.


..."

c anne ford

5-19-11




"You'll have to excuse the "Jack Handy" moment. LOL. The music metaphors are rampant.  But for some reason, I've kept that "om" within the music metaphors.  Don't get me wrong. There were plenty of "Fate" driven opportunities to encase it with in the matrix of other beliefs but for me it's more universal.

A scientists watches the world. Unfolds the "blanket" of cultural references that the mind and language have wrapped it in and then looks for the universal truth of it.

Ultimate Truth vs Percieved Truth vs Cultural Truth vs LOL "You can't handle the truth" Truth.

It's these "gears" of the world's cultures that have turned  the notions that civilize the human race.  It's brought us out of the mire. Designed to keep us from killing each other, I wonder if it hasn't just smoothed the shards of glass only a bit."





c anne ford

5-19-11



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