Adding to the Noise

With nightfall comes silence that echoes into the deepest spaces inside my mind, when I sit still on my carpet Indian-style (I’ve yet to master the lotus posture while meditating. It’s hard!) listening to the sound of my inhales then exhales, the sound of my skin as it grazes over the neatly woven yet not-so-neatly kept flooring (sometimes my legs fall asleep and I have to shift around). Every so often I listen to the lone driver on his way home after a long day. This is all while trying to focus through my third eye, the brow chakra to achieve samadhi. Definitely a work in progress. With daylight my mind awakens, racing through to-do lists, dreams, and what-if scenarios.

I’m reading The Divine Matrix by Gregg  Braden, a book about the interconnectedness of all life and how to communicate through this holographic universe. He explains that our feelings directly influence our DNA, he touches on quantum theory and shares his experiences, his questions, and his findings. He expresses the things I seem to know deep within myself: we are not mere observers in this vast universe, we are participants, creators, orchestrators, and gods.

I wonder when I look outside my window, when I’m driving to the beach, when I’m walking in the park how anyone could forget this is paradise. Does no one else ever stop in awe at the perfectly straight line of the horizon? The beaming, glowing sun? The pale, cratered moon? The birds flowing freely, flowers with colors so bright, the trees that stretch out into our infinite backdrop! The celestial blue sky, the constantly moving clouds and the sweet wind that caresses us to remind us we are not alone? The fact that we are FLOATING IN SPACE, spinning and circling around in some kind of endless cosmic dance and that this force we call gravity is what’s keeping us all from just falling off?

Is everyone just adding to the noise, to the distractions of this material world, to the deceitful things that mere paper tainted green with photos of deceased men buys? Paper that we collectively seem to agree is worth more than our souls?

Instead of adding to the noise, I want to create music. Music with purpose that soothes and uplifts, that inspires and motivates. Noise serves only to confuse, to drown out, to distract, to suffocate and enrage. I want none of that. If we can all just pull our heads out of our constricting sphincters and come up for air, we’d realize there is so, so, so much more to life than dizzying routine. That we don’t have to leave it up to others to decide our fate and that the solutions to our problems lie within ourselves. That we could make our dreams come true if only we stopped dreaming through the filter of doubt.

I want to reach inside minds and pull the sludge from between the intricate folds of malleable brains, separate the shit from the beauty like those guys on that show that plays on the History Channel: “American Pickers,” where they dive and dig through seemingly endless piles of junk to find old, forgotten treasures to restore to their former glory. I want to find all the good stuff and pull it out, spill it back onto faces and laps and yell “Hello!? Look at all this beauty! Do something with it!” 

Ha, maybe that’s a little harsh. But something like that. Metaphorically, of course. :)