God Chanting

I have just been chanting the word Om :)  The Hindus believe it was the sound that set everything in motion, that everything is tied up in, that extends out beyond everything.  The sound of God.

It was an interesting sort of an exercise, doing this chanting.  The observing part of me sat and laughed at the thought of what the me of 15 years ago would have thought about the me now.  Chanting om.  Doing yoga.  Reading Buddhist books.  Oh, dear, she's heading over into the great One World Religion that is coming upon the scene to deceive even the elect, if it was possible.

The sound you chant is actually in four parts.  The "A" sound vibrates in the belly;  the "O" sound vibrates in the chest;  the "U" sound vibrates in the throat (especially good for me, I'm weak in that area) and finally the "M" sound vibrates in the nasal passages and in the head.  A prayer that resonates after you have finished saying it.

I feel very centred afterwards.  The most beautiful feeling, the feeling that all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.  Whenever I enter into this space, I just know that everything ultimately will be fine.  It is a radically beautiful and peaceful space. Here, all good flows.  There does not feel like there is any lack here, no need to hang onto things, to people, to places.  Conversely, they do not have less value in my eyes for my lack of hanging onto them but take on even more beauty when I do not need to grasp them.

That centred feeling is the basis of creativity for me.  I must say, I do struggle with the creative process when it is lying fallow.  Even though I appreciate and understand the depths of everything, and that lying fallow is a chance to regroup and rest, I am not really happy and at peace until the waters start bubbling up again.  Which they are at the moment.  (Indeed, I have finished a 5000 word short story which is in draft form on my other blog, Discombobula.  I have a story idea that has bubbled itself up to the surface over the past few days, and bits and pieces begin adding themselves to it, like it's a giant magnet and I'm holding it up to see what sticks.  It is a delightful sort of a feeling.  This morning, also, I woke and had another idea in my head.  I am just about to go off - if I can rouse myself - to begin work on another sculpture piece.

It feels so good to be here at this space.  I can't begin to tell you how many times in the past three years I have seriously felt like I was maybe going to go mad, or just fall off the edge of the world.  The most dysfunctional and awful parts of me have been laid bare, like Israel with her skirts up over her head.  I have never been more terrified in my life, nor felt so dissassembled, like a giant Kinder Surprise toy.  I once thought that this was all working towards some sort of a purpose in dismantling the deepest things of me.  These days, I really don't know any more if that's the case.  If it is true, and God is working here in all the murk and muck, I cannot see it, and I cannot feel it.

But oftentimes, the best things hit you only in hindsight.  What a beautiful view it is, even though, as someone who I am trying to forget once quoted Saint Augustine as saying, it is "a sad privilege".