MOUNTAINS MOVE.

On Mon, November 24, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

‘Unless your heart be the size of a grain of mustard seed, mountains are moving.’~

It may be true to say that mountains move. At least, whenever i look i find them to be moving. Better still than moving mountains is to be able to be moved by them. Though many may remain unmoved, and move along lacking a loving look.

It may be true to say that mountains rise up from the earth, and equally true to say they fall down to the sea. They are even seen to be rising from the deep. Diving like leviathans down to the ocean floor, only to arise again as a distant shore.

Peaks are often seen in passing, half hidden by a range of hoary hills. Like diving dolphin fins, or starkly surreal as spectral ships with sombre silhouetted sails.

 

Vanishing behind rising ridges like humpback whales with scaly skin, brooding dark against a sinking twilight sky.

While, on a still and distant gulling cry of day, a blue limpid liquid mirror laps. Fringed by froth and foam of lulling fronds, the slow rise and fall seeps back between singing stones, a line erased to sink in silted sand. The swish and pull of the swaying sea.

Low window view between backyard walls, of a distant peak. A constant kitchen companion, weather warning from the west. When opaque grey approaching rain, blanks the mountain long before a downpour pelts the glass.

A quiet inner affection pervades all such small familiar facets and details of the day. The worldly world of war regards as mundane facts, void of innate significance. Insulating ego from feeling, present poetic beauty in the ordinary.

Naturally, noting such as being signs and promptings for projects of imaginative creation, the mountain called forth an intent, the seed of peak experience. Through days of late November rains.

A new day dawned though i woke late, to a pure blue oasis of a day. Down to the round curved strand and jutting headland. Flat low tide around the promontory point, to see what the sea had to say.

Zooms fall short of the pyramid-peak, rugged ridged with rounded shoulders down, and the island’s tail bearing small green fields below.

Boulders backed by a cleft cliff face, scattering the rock strewn place. Black stones green stained dragged down to where the tide turns.

Spreading outward across a smooth expanse of unprecedented cloud-free cobalt sky and sea, such that adequate words fail me.

The focus of original intent ‘literally’ moved by circumstance or chance, to ‘pan out’ (could that be a pagan term?) the context all inclusive and there may be a lesson there.

Being but an exploratory trawl, casting about for artistic inspiration and netting a good catch, twenty seven shots in all. Many other possible focusses reflected on along the way in coming round to the point.

But what a calm and tranquil sea. Cloud-free sky as blue as blue can be.

A wish of peace in late November.

Images of beauty to remember. ~

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Martin Rainbowmaker.

VOID OF THE WILD.

On Tuesday, Nov 5, 2013, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

What's this about Earth being a school?

Not content with having to transcend ever greater and yet greatest of possible impending threats of planetary loss and disappointment, and still sustain not just a sense of wonder and gratitude, but also remain totally unfazed and neutral !

Wouldn't you think that, as a divine soul embodied, i would have designed something a bit more creatively inspiring ?

However, if i'm to totally infuse the so-called inert with spirit, then, on with the business of plumbing the depths of the ordinary. Never mind the inevitable global distractions.

School indeed ! Not as if i'm that dense.

Talking of the Earth and things earthly, and scanning the terrain from multiple viewpoints,

you would wonder at the consensus assumption with regard to the sense of sacred.

Or are we just spiritual tourists, trying to get from A to B and still not incur a deficit on the way ?

Take a litmus test of the awareness level of collective consciousness. A glance at any local newspaper will give the impression we're a race of retarded hobbits on prozac, unless you happen to be one.

Do a random Google search, 'wild places in Ireland.' If that doesn't deliver some lame irrelevant reference to a drink soaked hooley in a Dublin pub, then you're sure to get a few pages of sites advertising scenic coach tours to hotels, proudly situated in what they quaintly call 'beauty spots', forever 'boasting' (never could get that one) 'amenities' whatever that means.

Such as, golf links, nature trails, fishing, pony trecking, trap rides, bike rallies, best beer and local hospitality, kitsch fake tradition, woollen sweaters, leprechaun garden gnomes, tea towel house blessings, dirt bikes on muddy forest trails,etc. Everything including nappies (diapers) if the luck is with you and all but big daddy's hand to hold in the dark.

I mean, that's really wild. Just far enough into the wild to say you've been there and bought a few postcards.

While this is a sweeping but harmless parody of what is considered normal, it's just the use of barely exaggerated generalizations to illustrate a point. Wry wit in the absence of malicious intent.

A random expression of what i mean by being

'void of the wild'. A 13 letter combination of trigger words having evocative resonance. Somewhat in the sense of W.B.Yeats' "Come away to the waters and the wild, for the world's too full of weeping."

The use of 'wild' in this case is naturally elusive to define definitively. In a general sense it equates to, naturalness, all which isn't tamed and domesticated. Instinctiveness, spontaneity, intuition, alertness, presence, physical groundedness, resourcefulness, non-duality, bonded with nature, and innate potential as a whole.

All this, simply to draw attention to the point that, characteristically we don't embody these traits anywhere near as fluently as other creatures do. Or even as well as previous more nature based cultures did.

Except, now, there is a complex urgency to the emergency of our increasing vulnerability to the unseen. Just because we've domesticated other creatures and underestimated their faculties of feeling, we shouldn't be so surprised to discover that we are subject to a similar but more surreptitious process, which we are.

Other creatures 'know', in the best sense of the word, when imminent disaster is pending.

Whereas, we depend so much on technology to discern. A technology which most are unaware of which is mostly used against us with obvious intent. Most creatures know instinctively if they're in a conflict situation. Domesticated humans are a little different. Usually having to find time to read about it for a few years.

That being so, for simplicity's sake, i might suggest just take ten or fifteen minutes on the computer and examine the right hand menu of

'exopolitics.com.' I think even an ostrich would, if it needed a computer that is.

Despite our huge latent potential, we are mostly and vulnerably void of the wild within and around us as being one and the same.

To put it bluntly, our self-domesticating culture, originally a survival skill, has become a norm of dependence on the system which most overtly threatens our survival.

To be so unaware of the nature of what we are so unaware of, is, by contrast with for example, a fox, who knows with one sniff if there is a human within a mile radius. Or a crow, who is instantly alert to your intent, a vulnerability equivalent to lambs to the slaughter.

Void of the wild within we void the world without. Regarding anything wild as being antagonistic to what we presume we are.

That can be a tragic mistake to make, and it's called duality.

The once bonded tribe, attuned to place, expanded to become 'the only game in town', constraining captive participants in illusory separation.

The preoccupation being fear of loss, of food and shelter. Used as coercion to maintain the illusion of social cohesion.

Whereas our wild within also equates to our finer faculty of mystically perceiving the so-called outer environment, each being a reflection of the other.

For brief historical periods we assumed we are civilized. That's just the trouble. The exponential uptick of self-genocide shows that to be so.

As Terrence McKenna said so poignantly, "We did it wrong." We also did ourselves a grave wrong. Including our constant companions with other than one pair of legs, some with wings, some with fins, some with leaves.

They say, nature avoids a void. Let's not be void of the wild. Lest we become just null and void.~

~~~ Martin Deanthoir na tuar ceatha.



 

Photoshoot:
          VOID OF THE WILD, martin law