Skip to main content

Imagine

If you can, imagine that this post is punctuated with short films of what I am describing.

The first is a swimming pool full of blue jello. Imagine the jello having been disturbed so that it jiggles from one end of the pool to the other. As you watch it move, imagine becoming so sure that if you were to jump in the pool, you would encounter the spongy, rubbery texture of jello, and find the weight of yourself driving a you-shaped hole into the jello.

Can you picture it?

In the second film we pan across the sky, but not just any ordinary sky, this one is covered with cottage cheese. Cloud curds spread up over us, as if the Gods have had a massive food fight. Imagine you can dig a spoon right in and feel the texture of it between your teeth.

(Now, if you want to try a good ol' Mormon staple, you might decide to add the cottage cheese to the jello and bring it along to a pot luck, maybe throw in pineapple for good measure? Although, you'd be more likely to choose green jello).

This third short film stars long grass swaying in the wind, but as you stare at it long enough, you experience the sensation that it is the grass moving itself and dancing before you, that the movement of the grass is creating the breeze, not the reverse. You watch the grass sway and shimmy, and you find yourself dancing to the beatlessness, free and uninhibited.

The fourth short film paints a flickering brocade of sunlight, filtered through wind-caressed trees, and projected into your window and onto your floor. You watch the patterns dancing before you, sensing that in it contains the portals to other worlds.

The last film is interactive. Imagine climbing down into a creek hidden deep in the forest and sharing the surface of a flat rock with a little one as you both peer under the belly of a long-fallen tree--man's first footbridge; when suddenly the rock turns into a boat, a long jagged tree branch becomes an oar--and a newt becomes a tiny Gollum, slippery and wet with life, crawling, sloth-like, beckoning you to follow him into the depths of his cave.

Just imagine.

So, why all these visuals?

How else might I describe to you some incredible moments of presence, of altered (chemical- free) perception, when there was nothing to hinder the experiencing of a moment, when time stopped, or at least slowed down considerably, and there was nothing but the partaking of the senses? How could you possibly experience these moments through the text, without being distracted by the words used in the task of description, the conformity of words, and format-- the typos, the grammatical faux-pas?

Imagine no-thing to distract you from absolute absorption into the moment. Only enough space for awe, as if experience itself opens up for a moment and invites you backstage to see the workings within; the picture unzips to reveal the Essence of itself. And there is no longer explanation running rampant, no inner dialogue that knows, no longer any absolutes, no longer face-value to be counted on--only something greater, something sensed, something that turns experience upside down and inside out--but somehow undefinable.

My daughter would tell you that when she jumped into the pool, she truly wondered if the water would feel like jello under her feet.

And I truly wondered if we could have become small enough to follow the newt into his lair, what we might have noticed on our way, and in ourselves, as we slowed ourselves down to barely a whisper.

How easy it was for my children to join me in these places, to marvel with me, to embrace the impossibilities as possibilities. How joyously they joined me there, or was it I who joined them?

And the most amazing of all?

The recipe for these magical moments:

Add to any moment the determined focus of intentionally unraveling any and all suffering, getting to the root of it, and continue, continue, continue to unravel, until there is a release of love, of compassion, even a dash of relief; a deeply felt sweetness toward self and others--and then just watch, just experience, just be.

Find yourself inhabiting a completely different world. Find yourself becoming a child again, or at the least, joining a few in rediscovering your world.

Comments

  1. Loved this post! I found myself enjoying each visual imagination with you. The magic of it!!!!!!!

    Oh, the slowing down of life, moments built upon moments...finally understanding the words, "take time to smell the roses"!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful post, thank you for writing it. I look forward to reading more!

    ReplyDelete
  3. lovely. i feel so good spending time with the little ones in my life. they remind me there's really nothing to do but be.=)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hey Brooke,

    The other day I was out riding my bike on the narrow winding country lanes and I experienced that very same sunlight, filtering through the trees; portals to other worlds. How cool is that. Great bloggy.

    Nige:-)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Mountain

Okay, I am just here writing, because I can't quite tell you how important it is that I have full permission to write, right here today, with this energy that I am holding. To stand strong in the truth of my being, that has felt quite weak and wavering in moments, and equally strong and clear in moments, as if these parts are truly at war with one another, and I am watching to see which one will win out, but the funny division between the two is merely this, the more I let the two up for air, wrestling and churning up and me trying to find which team is going to win, which one is going to end up on top, there is just simply me, sitting on the sidelines, and really tired of watching the back and the forth, and so, I just sit and put my hand in the sand I am sitting on the beach, and feel the texture of the sand, feel it running through my hand, and there is just this amazingness of this sand moving through my hand, and it feels timeless and I begin to see shapes and outlines in the…

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…

Big Red Bow & Boat

The next installment in a boat series, I guess. I just loved drawing this one. It just sort of appeared one day, and I loved the hues. Thanks Sharpie, for mixing up some alluring colors for me.

It didn't start out as night, but thanks to a sharpie mishap... but I am coming to ADORE those mishaps, because my favorite part of this little drawing is that it is night!

I also love drawing these women from behind with big bows. I love the mystery of whether the boat is coming in or going out. Perhaps it is all those Victoria Holt novels I read as a girl. Thanks mom!

It is fun to just enjoy looking at art I've created, not because they are good, but because they evoke something for me in my experience--something that just feels simply a little bit more alive--tiny sparks of wonder that make me feel curious about this human existence, and our desire to create--something wordless. Sometimes I think it is the closest way that I get to brush up to my personal experience as a human. Beca…