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.

SACRED MUNDANE.

On Sunday, Oct 13, 2013, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

SACRED MUNDANE.

 

'Live in the sacredness of the ordinary.'

How on Earth can the mundane be sacred?

Well, simply by being. Who can dismiss the mystery of what simply IS?

But we do. We call everything that's familiar, 'ordinary' or 'mundane.' If that's not a rejection of reality then what is?

It must be that we're not really familiar with anything. That means, not even curious about the obvious fact that 'everything IS.'

Before adding any more to that, let's take a close look at the words SACRED and MUNDANE.

First, the word concept SACRED, from the Latin

'sacrum', 'sacere,' etc. Signifying “that which is deserving of the highest reverence, otherworldly, holy.”

(If the concept really defines 'holy' then it must speak of 'the whole', and not the otherworldly to the total exclusion of the world we inhabit.)

Second, MUNDANE. From the Latin, 'mundus'

meaning, world. Implying worldly, familiar, ordinary, commonplace, everyday.

'Everyday !?' What sort of definition is that?

Everything is ordinary every day?

There is only today and only now. Forget imagined tomorrows there aren't any.

Words are just imaginary frames we use, to isolate from the whole and thereby exclude all else. Language is not to be taken literally.

These two words, SACRED and MUNDANE

came into wider public usage during the 14^th and 15^th centuries by way of 'propaganda'

propagated by the politically constructed Roman religion.

They actually invented the word 'propaganda',

meaning, to cultivate a concept, just as one would propagate plants. You could call it an implant of a belief.

The concept implanted ,being: Everything, to infinity, is worthy of the highest reverence,...

except for the Earth !

Earth, and all life, on, within, and around it, including us of course, not worthy of anything.

This is an intentional stark inversion to the universal nature based wisdom traditions that long preceded it. The patriarchal agenda being self evident.

There you have it. The enforcement of an inverted FALSE DICHOTOMY denigrating sacred oneness with nature (everything natural).

Especially 'pagans', a word meaning country dweller. Under threat of 'heresy' (from the Greek 'heresai'), meaning, to choose or decide for oneself.

Being as such, a programme of self denigrating

geo-centricity in reverse, elevated to the level of psychopathy and sanctified by deluded psychopaths divorced from their 'own' nature,

who justify trashing everything for their own 'greater good.'

Piously presented as fake humility under rule of brute law and threat of violent death.

You'd think after half another century we'd have woken up, stood up, and spoken up by now.

Do you see through the deception now? Or is your window still steamed up by the heat of many battles?

Let's get sane. It's all about presenting false opposites as antagonistic instead of mutually interdependent and totally complementary.

The conflict of separation herds people to choose 'the light' over 'the dark' then the perpetrators co-opt the light and present a false version of it which appears light but is heavy, heavier than previously.

The only 'holy' is wholeness, which means 'everything', undivided within itself because genuine wholes don't have 'parts.'

It was just an illusion to make the peasants think of black and white as opposites, when in fact they support one another.

It only takes one bad apple with a lot of clout for the rot to spread.

But, when 'the dark' completely dominates, it by definition becomes background for its complementary to arise out of.

But let's not get snared in dark versus light.

The ordinary IS the sacred. Simply by virtue of absolutely being what it is. Extraordinary but true. If all life is not sacred then what is?

You don't have to be out of the ordinary to know that. Just keep your window clean so you can see through it.

It's also a mirror so be mindful what you reflect on because that reflects back as reality.

Don't be stuck with reflecting on the 'mundane world' as being intrinsically mundane or you'll be bored to death for life.

Thinking that the magical mystical miracle of omnipresent enchantment and wonder must be something 'else.'

Unless you really want to feel separated from all that, “just be ordinary and nothing special.”

Being, is beyond words.~

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~*

RBM.

Photography: 

         SACRED MUNDANE photos, martin law

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by martin rainbowmaker