Dark Shadow

Anne,

Thank you for reading my poem and responding to it.

I love Fr. Thomas. I watch his videos on Integral Naked. I will look at his CD, thank you for recommending.

I am extremely sensitive to music. My first experience of Samadhi-like bliss was induced by Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata when I was five years old. It was something totally unspeakable that I couldn't even dare to describe. For many years after that, I was convinced that this particular piece of music was something so sacred that no mortal was allowed to touch it, with exception of extremely gifted musicians. Imagine how surpised and angry I was to hear it played by a fellow student at my music school recital! After some furious and vigorous thinking, I finally realized that there was no law that prevented me from playing it too. Still, I wasn't able to approach it for quite some time. And technically, the first move of the sonata, which shocked me so deep in my early childhood, is not so difficult. I play it now, sometimes, but still have a feeling that I don't deserve such privilege.

Then I fell in love with jazz. That's a different story. Once, in a jazz club, I asked a jazz musician whose improvisations gave me multiple whole-body orgasms, if it was legal to do such things in public. He understood what I meant and laughed. He said that it was the best compliment that he ever had for his musical performance. Still, I don't dare to play jazz piano, being trained in a classical piano tradition. The freedom that jazz musicians have just blows my mind, I am totally in love with it, but I don't dare to approach it.

I love the sound of Indian flute, and it's amazing for meditation. Though, lately, I stopped using music for my meditations. I hear some kind of music inside, and to listen better I need silence.

Listening to silence - does it make sense?

Something just came up to my mind, and I don't know how to express it yet. I LOVE FEAR, BUT I AM AFRAID OF LOVE. It's so true. Do you feel it?

--

HOMO SUM

humani nihil a me alienum puto

Carl,

That's exactly what I feel when I dig my shadow filled with pain. When I suppress it by painkillers, or just run away from it, or ignore it, it always gets me in some Jungian way, so I see it everywhere. Only diving in it, and listening to it, and learning from it create that experience of light casting.

Thank you very much.

Rita

--

HOMO SUM

humani nihil a me alienum puto