Whatever faith you subscribe to, oneness is key. Connectivity to the people and world around us brings us closer to the Creator of all. This post is a wonderful example of this concept, the core theme of Be As One.
In previous posts I have commented on the persecution of people because of their beliefs. Our country is polarized as has not been seen since the 1960s, and it appears that we are heading into another war. Oneness and connectivity are not luxuries, they are necessities!
In today’s world where people consider themselves different from all others and are divided on diverse grounds of sex, age, ethnicity, religion, nationality, shape, size, and a whole lot more, the idea of the entire universe having been created out of a single source seems fantastic. But, that indeed is the truth!
Everything in this world has come from the same source – energy, which gets converted into matter by following certain geometric codes. These codes or laws bring the energy molecules together to create specific structures, which are then combined to produce matter. From a tiny cell in the human body to the flower petals, to a diamond crystal, to a nautilus shell, to the planets, to music sequences, everything is based on consistent common laws of mathematics and form. From atoms to galaxies, a constant language of geometric pattern underlines all levels of the universe.
Christ-consciousness in silver
The mystics in the ancient times realized this fundamental truth of creation and started revering these geometric patterns or codes as sacred. What we know today as sacred geometry refers to the basic building blocks of the universe and can be called the blueprint of creation. It is to be found in the entire nature in form of Fibonacci spirals, golden mean proportion, platonic solids, tube torus, etc.
A wonderful example of Scared Geometry is the Platonic Solids, the 5 solids that are the core patterns behind every physical creation. They are Hexahedron (Cube), Tetrahedron, Octahedron, Dodecahedron and Icosahedron. An interesting fact about them is that they all fit perfectly in a sphere with all corners touching the sphere’s edge. The sphere/circle, which is regarded as a primal container for consciousness and energy is seen as the mother and the cube is considered the male equivalent. The cube is unique in that the other 4 solids fit perfectly within it. Thus, this works as an example of inter-connectivity of everything.
I find myself confounded by the numbers, ratios and patterns that appear repeatedly in every aspect of life. Can you, in all honesty, say that this doesn’t amaze you and attribute it all simply to coincidence? Doesn’t the perfectness in the universe that is revealed by sacred geometry point to a Supreme Force controlling everything?
Flower of life in silver
Once you accept that all life is structured and governed by same, unseen laws, you will realize the hollowness and falsity in the perception of being distinct or separate from nature as well as from one another. You will be filled with reverence for all creation. Contemplation of these geometric codes offers a glimpse into the working of the great Universal Mind. Therefore, Sacred Geometry can become one of the ways in which God can be observed, proportioned and measured.
The Sacred Geometry is all around us, it is even within us. But, we hardly ever give it a thought. When we consciously engage with it, the harmony we experience in the shapes and patterns of sacred geometry will definitely help us get attuned to the harmony in the universal order and help us discover our full potential. It will sharpen the intuition, increase creativity and vitality, promote better understanding in relationships, improve communication, give rise to a sense of connection with the world, and make you feel at peace with yourself and with everyone around you. You will feel spiritually centered.
Undoubtedly, understanding, recognizing and accepting sacred geometry is the key to realizing the wholeness of universe and the oneness of all existence. Through it, science and spirituality become one. Its study leads us to reflect on creation of the universe and origin of life, which helps us realize the unity and oneness of everything. Everything has sprung up from a common source; everything exists together in this vast cosmos and is intricately inter-connected.
There is a frightening series of events going on in Egypt that few know about. If you are a Christian and don’t believe there is persecution to the magnitude of the original martyrs of the Church, you must educate yourself on the plight of the Coptic Christians in Egypt.
The mainstream press is not covering this story. Our government, except for a recent tepid statement condemning the violence, has otherwise done nothing. The Coptic Christians are being rooted out. Their businesses are being spray-painted with black crosses and X’s. Over sixty churches have been burned down. One church had to cancel their Divine Liturgy this past Sunday for the first time in 1600 years.
This is not a far-away problem in a country thousands of miles away. This is something that should profoundly affect our lives as Christians. Our brothers and sisters are suffering and we must pray for them and spread the word as to their plight.
Yes, I know. There are many groups of people on the earth who have been persecuted and killed. Lord knows the suffering in Syria has been immense as well as in Afghanistan and Iraq. There is starvation and disease around the world and so many forgotten people both here in our country and around the world.
I could just allow the waves of suffering to overwhelm me and do nothing. Or, I can pick one group and do what I can for them.. I can daily offer my prayers for all people in the world, entrusting them lovingly to God through the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Our Lord knows best how to take care of them but He wants us to get involved. To paraphrase St. Teresa of Avila, we are His hands and feet.
What can we do? We can ask our pastors this Sunday to add intentions for the Coptic Christians to prayers offered at services. We can use social media to spread the word among our family and friends. We can stay informed on what is happening. We can contact government officials to express our concern.
This blog post by Abbot Tryphon, a monastic in the Orthodox Church, offers his thoughts on what is going on in Egypt:
Coptic is the Pharoes’ name for “Egyptian”, a little appreciated echo of the fact that all of Egypt was once a Coptic, Christian nation. For seven centuries Egypt was a Christian nation, until the Arab Islamic invasion in the seventh century. When President Obama came to Cairo in 2009 for his first major speech on foreign affairs, he thought his charisma would be enough, as he attempted to appease the Islamists with his talk of America being their friend, all the while ignoring the plight of the Christians of the Middle East, who have been the bridge between the West and Arab cultures since the 17th century.
It was Coptic and Arab Christians who acted as translators of the greatest works of arts, literature, civilization, theater, and cinema, just as did Jews living in the Arab world. They made huge strides in bringing modern ideas, including democratic ideas, to the Islamic dominated world, but just as the Jews before them, Christians are now facing eviction from the Arab world, and this is not only a loss for the West but mostly for Arab Muslims. It is also a crime against humanity.
A left turn onto a busy street. A car barreling towards me. A frantic beep of the horn. The crash into my door. My body slamming backwards and lurching forward. A guttural cry and the sound of rapid breaths.
That was how my Tuesday began. I was nearing the office and took the left turn onto Route 135 from Bacon Street. I had been waiting for the cars signaling for Bacon Street to turn (hearing Daddy’s voice in my head saying, “Don’t trust signals.”). I wish I had heeded that voice just a moment longer. The last car started to turn and I pulled out but didn’t realize that car had blocked my view. I never the saw the other car coming.
Hope my car hasn’t been totaled – I love my Suzuki Grand Vitara.
It was just like that little phobia I’ve had over the last few years: the idea of a flashing neon sign on my door saying, “Hit me!” It happened in slow motion. When the car struck me I cried out. I began breathing heavily, yelling, the world was in a fog. I didn’t appear to be hurt but there was a slight twinge of pain in my neck.
A woman driving past us stopped, asking if we had called the police. I was still breathing very heavily and answered “No.” I had no idea what to do. She was very kind and placed the call.
I looked over at the other vehicle and saw a heavy set, younger woman. She sat very still. A frantic feeling washed over me. Was she alright? I had to know. I tried to move my car but it wouldn’t budge so I climbed over the passenger side and got out, running over to the other vehicle. Looking at the driver I asked her, “Are you alright, are you alright? I am so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Her face was blank, no answer; I assumed she was stunned. I touched her slightly on the shoulder, again saying, “I’m so sorry!”
Other drivers pulled over to help. A tow truck driver asked if we needed an ambulance. Gut instinct said, “Yes,” and he called the hospital. The police had arrived and asked me to describe what happened. “I was turning onto Route 135, I couldn’t see the other car, is she alright?” Somehow I knew enough to take out my license and registration and when asked, I handed them over.
Before I knew it, kind voices and consoling hands talked me down from my fright and led me over to the ambulance. For some reason, all I could think about was to just be nice. Be nice to all these kind people taking care of me.
Just a short way down the street was the Leonard Morse Hospital where I had last seen Aunt Anna. Her sweet round face flashed across my mind as I entered the hospital only to be replaced a stronger wave of emotions rolling over me as I remembered my mother in the ER that last time three years ago. I was surprised at the force of that wave and it wouldn’t be the last time it would roll over me.
Nurses with pleasant smiles offered consolation as my blood pressure and temperature were taken. A young blond female doctor asked me how I felt and explained what would happen next. A series of X-rays, maybe a CAT scan, depends what shows up on the film. A handsome young orderly gently wheeled me to the imaging area and I thought, “Yeah, they are that good looking, just like on “ER.” It all felt like a dream.
Once inside the X-ray room, the reality of what had happened began to settle in. I thought of God and how grateful I was that I was okay. I thought of the Virgin Mary and felt a strong sense of consolation from her, mothering me, wrapping her love around me like a blanket. It was then that the wave returned, rolling over me, higher and higher. It was as if my own mother was there, caring for me the way she used to when I was home from school, sick. The warmth of her love was palpable and tears sprung to my eyes with that memory. Rather than have to explain why I was crying, I struggled to control myself. This was our special time, a secret, stolen moment between Mommy and me that would not be interrupted with needless conversation or questions.
The X-rays were completed with the good news that there was no injury to my neck other than a slight case of whiplash. I thanked God in my heart and started humming my favorite hymns from church.
Calls went back and forth to Rich letting him know what was happening. Phone service was spotty in the ER so I resorted to texts. I could tell he was torn between what was happening and the work that was expected of him so I tried to limit the calls. I felt a sudden desire to speak with my daughter and gave her a call, just to tell her what had happened. “Where are you?” she asked, “Would you like me to come over?” There was such authority in her voice and I knew I wanted her by my side. I texted the address to her and she arrived shortly thereafter.
Soon I was cleared to leave and opted to go to the office. I felt fine and saw no reason for going home if only to brood and worry. I knew the complicated part would come after the accident: the insurance, arranging for a rental car, trying to retrieve my own car, lots of decisions, concerns over money … Right now, still in my fog, I just wanted to stay in the moment. I didn’t want to go backwards, and I didn’t want to think about the future. The present seemed just fine with me.
I miss my husband, I miss my children. I miss my Mommy.
As part of Book Bloggers’ AIR Book Tours, I am pleased to review How Bees Came to Make Chiliby Terry Bradley.
Geared for younger children, this book features delightful illustrations by Patrick A. Siwik. Readers are introduced to members of a honey bee community led by Queen Larabee and her son, Prince Littlebee. The story begins with the Queen and her son checking out the new scouts and their flight training. Hot shot Nubbiebee was eager to show off, “his antennae tingling with excitement.” As the Prince cheers him on, Nubbiebee gets carried away showing off his skills with loop-de-loops and zigzags. A sudden change in the breeze however, spells disaster as Nubbiebee crashed into a tree. His wing was clipped and in an instant, he loses the very skill that made him special.
illustration by Patrick Siwik copyright 2013, used by permission
Working off of this premise, Bradley uses the story to show how the community of honey bees supports Nubbiebee in his struggle to find something new that will make him feel useful to the community. Urged to keep an open mind, Nubbiebee tries something completely different. Through consistent hard work, our worker bee finds a talent he never knew he had which delights all the bees and serves the community: he invents a new recipe.
Thanks to good friends Jellibee and Charliebee, Nubbiebee creates a recipe for chili which is a hit with all the bees. Best of all, he learns how to do something great while unearthing hidden creativity.
illustration by Patrick Siwik, copyright 2013, used by permission
The premise of this story, to keep an open mind, take help and suggestions from others, and work hard to bring out the best in you, is exemplary. Bradley includes many lively descriptions which make the bees come to life. Even without the excellent illustrations, a child’s imagination will have no trouble picturing these likeable characters.
I think the telling of the story could have been a little less straightforward. Instead of telling the reader through the dialog what was going to happen and why, I would have preferred that it was shown more through the actions of the characters, thereby letting the child come to the proper conclusion on his or her own.
I was disappointed in the choice of type for this book considering how beautifully it is illustrated. As a graphic designer, I know that the right choice of type face can truly enhance a story. It may have been because my review copy was an Acrobat PDF file and the fonts might not have rendered correctly. Still, this lack of attention to the choice of type bothered me. There were also one or two typos in the text.
All in all though, How Bees Came to Make Chili is a charming book, one that I would recommend heartily. As I watch the bumble bees feeding off the begonia flowers on my deck this summer. I will wonder what the community will do with honey when it arrives at the hive. Maybe make chili? Who knows …
Note: This is a post I wrote nearly a year ago, right after I started this blog. It talks about dreams, and I am happy to report that some of them are already coming true. It is especially sweet for me to read this and know I have been moving forward, confident of what I feel called to do. It took me over fifty years to become confident enough to take a chance and dream, and then work to make the dream come true.
I hope this post inspires you to chase after your dreams too.
Recently I rediscovered early Barbra Streisand and her classic live album, “A Happening in Central Park.” As when I was a child, this performance really resonated with me. I didn’t know why back when I was 12 (except perhaps because it was shown on TV past my bedtime and I listened from my room anyway) but I know now at 57 – it’s the way she connects emotionally with the lyrics, never mind the fact that she has the most extraordinary set of pipes! I knew every song on that album by heart and used to pretend to be Babs in the car while driving. I never came close. 🙂
In reminiscing about Barbra, I came upon her “Yentl” soundtrack. I remembering enjoying the movie a lot and dug into the music. The first song in particular, “Where Is It Written?” made think about the women I’ve been reading about thanks to my obsession with Louisa May Alcott:
And why have eyes that see
And arms that reach
Unless you’re meant to know
There’s something more?
If not to hunger for the meaning of it all,
Then tell me what a soul is for?
Why have the wings
Unless you’re meant to fly?
And tell me please, why have a mind
If not to question why?
It sounds like something Jo March would say.
I live in a good time. Women are no longer restricted in their pursuit of learning (at least in the United States). Fully settled now in the “empty nester” phase of my life, learning has become a hunger that is never satisfied. While I am not what you would call scholarly or intellectual, I do have an insatiable curiosity. Just like Yentl.
In the movie, Yentl, a Jewish woman at the turn of the century, is unlike any woman in her village. While they are, fittingly, caught up with domestic concerns (food, drink, children, families), Yentl is consumed with learning the Talmud. “Where Is It Written?” begins with:
There’s not a morning I begin without
A thousand questions running through my mind,
That I don’t try to find the reason and the logic
In the world that God designed.
Her father, widowed for many years, indulges his daughter and secretly teaches her all that only men are allowed to learn. When her father passes away, Yentl is left with a decision: can she assume the expected life of a woman of her time, or must she break free somehow so that she can pursue the life she feels she is born to?
Deciding in favor of the bolder choice, Yentl cuts her hair and disguises herself as a boy, joining other Jewish men in serious study. She meets Avigdor (Mandy Patinkin) and they form a close friendship. As there are always consequences for keeping secrets, Yentl comes across some pretty difficult, and somewhat amusing, problems. But I’ll let you watch the movie to see how it all turns out.
I’m watching now as I write this. Yentl (now known as the boy Anshel) has been accepted into the school and is realizing her dream. As the song, “This Is One of Those Moments” is heard in the background, we see Yentl savoring her moment, loading her arms with books once forbidden to her, and engaging in the heated discussions about the Talmud that she has dreamed of.
Her mind is ready for the feast. At times she’s terrified, but she’s sure in her decision.
That’s how I feel whenever I have the chance to increase my knowledge of my passion regarding Louisa May Alcott. I see that scene in the movie with Yentl’s arms loaded with books and I think of the day when I will finally step into the Houghton Library where so many of the Alcott papers are housed, and have my arms loaded up too, preparing me for my bold choice to write about this family.
I want to make my mark in Alcott lore and I feel I have something new to say even if I will never be a scholar.
And when I think about doing these things, I stop for a moment and give thanks to God and ask Him again, “Why have you graced me this this?” I should know better than to ask: God has His own plans for me and I usually don’t get to see too far down the road. Smart move on God’s part – it feeds the anticipation and makes the experience that much sweeter. It also prevents me from getting freaked out over knowing too much too soon.
Obtaining true silence, that stillness of the heart and mind open to hearing the whisper of God from within, is one of the most challenging aspects of the spiritual life. I believe it is the most important thing we can do for if the voice of God is continually drowned out with our busy lives, we will miss the truth.
Christian singer Michard Card says it so beautifully in his song, “The Final Word:”
You and me we use so very many clumsy words. The noise of what we often say is not worth being heard. When the Father’s Wisdom wanted to communicate His love, He spoke it in one final perfect Word.
What is Holy Silence? How do we quell the noise in our lives? One of my favorite bloggers, The Holy Rover, has a wonderful post about silence that I wanted to share with you.
Icon of Elijah at the mouth of the cave (Wikimedia Commons image)
One of the pleasures of being married to my husband has been the many stories I’ve heard through the years about philosophers and their peculiar habits. One of my favorites is about a friend of Bob’s who several years ago gave a lecture in a philosophy class and then was asked a follow-up question by a student. In response the professor said, “You know, that’s really a good question. Let me think about it.” And then he sat down and thought about it. And then he thought about it some more. He furrowed his brow, he got up and paced across the floor, he stood looking out the window with a faraway look in his eyes. The minutes ticked by slowly as the students watched him in growing bemusement. Finally he gave his answer, clear and well-reasoned. And after class the students spread the story as proof of just how strange philosophers can be.
What flummoxed the students, of course, was the extended silence. Most of us are uncomfortable with silence, especially in a public setting such as that. But even when talking privately to a friend, we typically rush in to fill any pause with words. So the example of the philosopher in class, of someone being comfortable with an extended silence, conveyed a message that probably went unlearned by most of his students.
Mother’s Day in our family was always celebrated with a trip to Mount Auburn Cemetery for the Spring Warbler Migration. It’s a magnificent trip to a truly historic place awash in beautiful mature flowering shrubs and trees surrounding three different picturesque ponds. And the birds! Warblers are tiny, often colorful wonders with a wide variety of songs to challenge the most experienced birder.
On lucky trips, you might even catch site of a Great Horned Owl nest with owlets, or there might be a tiny owl wedged in the hole of a tree, blending in seamlessly.
It’s time outdoors, time spent with historic figures, and time spent enjoying a competitive, stimulating and truly fun hobby. Here’s a look at birders from the famous Brookline Bird Club at Mt. Auburn in 1960: http://www.mountauburn.org/media-archive/bostonglobejune1960/
The litter that started it all! I can’t tell you how much pleasure it has given me to watch kitty cams on the web. It sounds like a silly waste of time but the wonderful stories of love, caring and creativity have been inspiring (resulting in beautiful quilts, drawings, paintings and T-shirts). The seven kittens from Pittsburgh led to Foster Dad John Barrett from Purrfect Pals in Washington state and his string of successful fosters (he’s on his 36th litter) You can find him with his current litter, the Mythbusters, on LiveStream; his Facebook page is called The Critter Room.
A long day can be made special watching the antics of 4 week old kittens just learning to play and zoom around on wobbly legs (as they are now on the Mythbusters cam). My vocabulary has grown with “new words:”
floofy (means fluffy)
zoomies (means playing frantically)
Uncle Chickenfish (a favorite toy)
Noodles, the lovely blond mother of the Seven Kittens was rescued from the streets and taken into a private home by two very generous women, Jen and Kara. Watching seven hungry kittens feed from one mother all at the same time was quite the site to see!
Here are the little guys and gals that started it all, at 2 months of age:
at 2 months – Hank is looking up while the others sleep
Click to Tweet & Share: Another bug to identify – take a guess! http://wp.me/p2D9hg-ux
Would you like to learn along with Susan how to live your life
Be as One 