Out of Darkness
Howdy dear friends,
Welcome to the reversing of the earth’s magnetic fields. No wait. Not that. The solstice is nigh. That’s it. This is the end of the dying of the light, when the darkness turns to light(ness) and the world is made brighter every day. Ready ready, indubitably. We all are.
As many of you know, I am writing a book based on my Elements Project. I'm nearly done with the exposition of the 118 characters we call the known elements of the universe. The following is an excerpt, pertinent to these times. It's just a slice from essay #64 for the element, Gadolinium.
"This Element's strange magnetic properties could be classified as its superpower. No other on the chart behaves the way this one does and to expand this into the realm of art is actually a small step. When viewing great art there is a change in the perceiver, an elevation that ranges from a small smile, a tug on the heart, to a sense of transcendence -- a witness to the sublime. Great art, whether visual, musical, theatrical, dancers on a stage, improvisational or composed, lines in a book, momentarily perceived or through a lifetime of study and reflection, can vibrate some essence of our humanity. We recognize our miraculous birth or our tragic mortality or our capacity to simply witness the whirling mechanism of the cosmos right here, right now. In that moment, just as Gadolinium, a soft, silvery metal, when exposed to a magnetic field, increases its temperature, real ART touches the soul, individually and collectively, and raises its temperature. This is a personal book so if I am ever to share -- years ago I saw a concert with the Paul Winter Consort in the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in Manhattan on the winter solstice. The night was grim, cold, snow changing to sleet. The show was a magnificent mix of light and sonics, elaborate compositions, delicate, dynamic, flights of soloing musicians, aboriginal driving percussion, with Tuvaan throat singers, recorded whale songs and a full choir. For the encore, as the soaring reached a crescendo, the air reverberating, the space within the stone walls of the world's largest Gothic cathedral throbbing, saturated with frequencies colliding, someone in the seeming bowels of the earth fired up the pipe organ with thunderous chords, bass pedals held to the floor. The mothership landing, the tsunami crashing overhead, the landslide, the collapse of the sky itself, the final tectonic shift... tears flowed.
And that my friends is what this is all about. Haikus and lightning, indoor storms, subtlety and the obvious resolution just there at arm's length. One small glimmer that defies explanation over and over and over... lines on a surface gesturing at eternity..."
Beyond the obvious, why now? Why share these words? Because the sky is falling, sleet bitterly frigid, in darkness, just as then. And yet, there is redemption waiting. The world as we know ends every day. And another day begins. Jane Goodall is 87 years young and I know of no other voice that speaks so powerfully of hope. Look her up. Listen to her words in these moments of darkness all around. Humans are astounding and our capacity to grow, heal, repair, envision and expand are limitless. Whales sing despite the noise. Musicians rattle the rafters. Artists make magic that sits there glimmering, smiling back at us. The sunrise over Stonehenge on the solstice returns, as always. My oldest brother's daughter just had a baby boy. My youngest brother had a son five months ago. These little humans may have answers we need. In the meantime, celebrate with loud music and bright art. Cheers to another year. We have lost much and many, but here we be. Lucky us.
Love is the answer.
Listen to Jane.
She's an earth mother if there ever was one.
And she is filled with confidence and hope and vision.
Happy holidays my friends. So glad we have met.
Peace, and
we got this...
hugs all around,
B Mac
