Yesterday was my monthly meditation class. To help prepare for this and put myself in the right kind of mind space, I make sure to turn off my computer by 6 p.m. on Saturday evening, which is the 'eve', and so in a way, already the start of Sunday. And I keep it turned off until after, which is usually around lunchtime.
Yesterday I realized it's becoming harder and harder for me not to want the feeling of connection that facebook, email and Twitter bring, despite the fact that often actually checking the all latter leads to a slight let down. Nevertheless, it's the anticipation. Maybe there's something amazing waiting for me. I simply have to take a look.
So, feeling a bit horrified at my addiction, I started to think, actually to compare this to how it is in my morning quiet time when I intentionally and consciously think of those souls who are particularly close to me: family and friends. But also, with reference to the last post, those of my loved ones who have passed over, as well as those who have been spiritually connected with me.
What then is the difference?
Mostly obviously, I have no feeling of compunction in regard to my meditation and quiet time. This is something I do quite freely, even though the day would feel wrong if I didn't go to that special place. But there's something more.
Fiction, and in particular, young adult fiction seems to be all about magic powers these days. I think this has something to do with our times. More, I believe we can all develop our consciousness in a higher direction. So, when I work with connecting myself during my meditation time, that increases my ability to sense when someone is in need or ailing in some way. I'm not reliant on the internet, although if I don't phone, I might pop off a quick email just to find out how this particular friend is doing. I'm humbled and yet glad when I hit it right and my reaching out helps in some way.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
My November
During November, those of my loved ones who have passed over are closest to me. So I try to take note of what wafts, unbidden, into my mind. This morning it was an old song. Maybe you know it...
If I could plant a tiny seed of love
In the garden of your heart,
Would it grow to be a great big love some day
Or would it die and fade away?
My dad used to sing this often, and truly, thinking of what kind of a father he was to me and my younger brother, I could say that he was all about song and story. He knew the words to so many of the popular songs of his youth, of his time during the Second World War, and on into his middle age. And he used to sing them, often. What a gift that was for us!
Maybe those old songs were easier to sing than many of the pop songs today, mostly because they had more of a melody. JMHO
My dad also used to whistle. This of course was something women did not do. So yesterday I was whistling and a friend, an ex-German, came up to me to tell me about an old saying: that women who whistle and chickens who squawk deserve to have their necks wrung!!
Hmm. I can actually hold a tune better when whistling than when singing. Perhaps the jury's still out as to whether either of these is acceptable!
If I could plant a tiny seed of love
In the garden of your heart,
Would it grow to be a great big love some day
Or would it die and fade away?
My dad used to sing this often, and truly, thinking of what kind of a father he was to me and my younger brother, I could say that he was all about song and story. He knew the words to so many of the popular songs of his youth, of his time during the Second World War, and on into his middle age. And he used to sing them, often. What a gift that was for us!
Maybe those old songs were easier to sing than many of the pop songs today, mostly because they had more of a melody. JMHO
My dad also used to whistle. This of course was something women did not do. So yesterday I was whistling and a friend, an ex-German, came up to me to tell me about an old saying: that women who whistle and chickens who squawk deserve to have their necks wrung!!
Hmm. I can actually hold a tune better when whistling than when singing. Perhaps the jury's still out as to whether either of these is acceptable!
Friday, November 2, 2012
Aimez-vous Brahms?
Ummm, maybe I've used that title before? If so, no apologies because I think it's a brilliant title. I also thought 'A Certain Smile' was pretty good. Yes, I read all Francoise Sagan's books, in French, years ago, and enjoyed them.
I read different types of books according to my needs. For example, romantic comedy when I'm jet-lagged. And if you happen to be in that state and feel the need, my new romcom 'Catch of the Year' will be out from Crimson Romance on the 5th November. Coming out with a bang, as my husband says, in reference to Guy Fawkes in the UK. So, not a brilliant title there, but my original one was discarded because it was too close to another novel the publisher had already released. Sob.
Before I go to sleep at night, I read Rudolf Steiner. With ref to the above paragraph, definitely from the ridiculous to the sublime!
And now to get to what was fluttering in my mind this morning and sparked this post. You see, I turned on the radio and heard Mozart. For me, he's the absolute best composer to listen to when I'm still half in my dream world, but waking to the day. I can also do Bach, Haydn and maybe Schubert. You get the picture. Beethoven and the romantics (yes, my beloved Brahms) can come later. Opera too. Better in the afternoon though, so I don't get too churned up. Really modern music has to wait until I can hear a live performance. Can't do it via the radio.
The realization of how my audible preferences change in the course of the day came to me via that wonderful film 'A Room with a View'. Did you see it? The heroine gets emotionally churned up when she plays Beethoven.
This was one of the few books-to-film where I saw the film first, and was happy to read the book later, and even felt I appreciated it more that way. The other one was 'A Passage to India'. This novel was part of my required reading at university, but I simply couldn't do it. Actually, I think I wasn't ready for most of the books on our reading list! But after I saw the movie, I got into the novel and found it wonderful.
I read different types of books according to my needs. For example, romantic comedy when I'm jet-lagged. And if you happen to be in that state and feel the need, my new romcom 'Catch of the Year' will be out from Crimson Romance on the 5th November. Coming out with a bang, as my husband says, in reference to Guy Fawkes in the UK. So, not a brilliant title there, but my original one was discarded because it was too close to another novel the publisher had already released. Sob.
Before I go to sleep at night, I read Rudolf Steiner. With ref to the above paragraph, definitely from the ridiculous to the sublime!
And now to get to what was fluttering in my mind this morning and sparked this post. You see, I turned on the radio and heard Mozart. For me, he's the absolute best composer to listen to when I'm still half in my dream world, but waking to the day. I can also do Bach, Haydn and maybe Schubert. You get the picture. Beethoven and the romantics (yes, my beloved Brahms) can come later. Opera too. Better in the afternoon though, so I don't get too churned up. Really modern music has to wait until I can hear a live performance. Can't do it via the radio.
The realization of how my audible preferences change in the course of the day came to me via that wonderful film 'A Room with a View'. Did you see it? The heroine gets emotionally churned up when she plays Beethoven.
This was one of the few books-to-film where I saw the film first, and was happy to read the book later, and even felt I appreciated it more that way. The other one was 'A Passage to India'. This novel was part of my required reading at university, but I simply couldn't do it. Actually, I think I wasn't ready for most of the books on our reading list! But after I saw the movie, I got into the novel and found it wonderful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
