Sep 10, 2008

The Night and the Day

Wow. I got an email from my good friend and kindred spirit, Sonia. She relayed a story that a friend of hers had just felt her connection to the world for the first time. She felt it, tasted it, smelled it, touched it... basically a sensory orgasm. The first time you feel your connection to the all is amazing. Someone had shared their experience with Sonia and she knew that she had to in turn - share it with me.

Sonia asked me something simple. She wanted me to share my experience - the first time I'd felt at one with the Earth. The first time I felt in awe of everything. I'm going to go a bit further than that though. Don't I always?

Recently I wrote a note called Painting with Rain, and in that note you can read my connection to the Universe. It is not a connection that I ever truly disconnect from, although when I do the disconnection is brief.

When I was a child, I spent every summer in Puerto Rico. Living in the Tropics will connect you to the music of the world without you even intending to connect. There is no denying the beauty of the world when you are surrounded by it.

I was about 9 or 10 perhaps, I don't remember my exact age, but I was in 3rd grade. I was at my Grandmother's house in the mountains in Cayey when I first stood in awe of the world. It was as though my senses became confused. I could taste the green of the grass. I could smell the clouds. I felt nature growing. I closed my eyes and I could see music. My ears were ringing with the giggles of the grass.

In that moment, I knew everything was perfect. I knew that my Grandmother would be making lemonade from the lemons she picked next to the swing. I knew that the ants that were biting my feet didn't mean me harm necessarily, they were just doing what they do. I could hear the thoughts of the dogs - lazy in the sunshine - praying for rain to cool them down. I knew that one of the chickens was sitting on eggs that had been fertilized by the house rooster - and soon there would be little baby chicks. There was a guinea hen that was annoyed because one of my cousins was chasing her. I was in love with this feeling. I had connected to the Earth.

Once you connect to the world, you don't lose it. You can access this connection at any time. It doesn't matter where you are.

When I was 18 I was up on a hill at my cousin's ranch. The horses were in the stable - the chickens in their coop. It was night time. We had all picked a spot in the grass to lay. We looked up at the stars. On that hill in Puerto Rico, there weren't any lights - only the moonlight coating everything like a veil. The stars were plentiful.

I opened my mouth and verbalized my feelings.

"We're in a jar. We're like an ant farm, or fireflies. The stars, the light we see - that's Heaven. The darkness between, is the lid of the jar we're in. The stars themselves, holes poked in the lid."

One of my cousins laughed and said, "Entonces que es el dia?" (Then what is the day?)

"The day is when God retreats back to childish ways. The hot sun is the light of Heaven through a magnifying glass."

They all pondered that for a moment.

I laughed and looked at the stars and they winked approval. The moon smiled a crescent smile. The stars didn't seem far at all. I felt as though I could scoop them up in my hand. Then I smelled them, and tasted them, and they touched me. They brushed up against my face and warmed me. It was the first time I'd connected to the Universe.

First times are amazing. I believe these are the stories of losing my virginity. I made love to the ALL. I connected with everything. At ten it was with the world, and at 18 I was finally ready to have intergalactic intercourse.

The Universe is amazing. We should all be so lucky to love it so freely. It gives itself to us unconditionally - we just need to be open.

Sep 6, 2008

Painting with the Rain

I felt her on my face and running down my cheeks. She was cold, and I was radiating so much warmth that steam poured off of me. I was caressed by the beauty. Engulfed in the magic of the sky dripping its love to the Earth.

I sat on one of the benches in the yard and watched the leaves of the trees dance under this love. I watched them drink it in. Flowers stretched up and leaned back their heads to catch her beauty. The grass winked at her and reached higher hoping to catch more. The pebbles glistened like silver and gold. There was peace on Earth.

I wanted to create with her. I wanted to harness her beauty. I needed a partner to paint with. She agreed with a giggle of drizzle.

I sat in the studio and pondered color. The rain is colorless to the eye but add light and every color of the spectrum sprouts forth like a prayer spoken from the lips of an angel. I closed my eyes and let her speak to me. She chose. Silver, for the glistening rocks. Black for the night sky that was watching down above the clouds. Lavender, for the flowers that were dancing in her joy. Blue, for the ocean that birthed her somewhere early on in the cycle of her life. She chose, and I found a jar to mix her choices in.

I poured the paint into the jar and went out into the night to collect some of her. I stood there feeling her cold fingertips on my flesh. Her glitter sliding down my curls like children at play on a water slide. I waited for her to tell me when to go to the canvas. We were a team moving toward a common goal.

With a brush, I spread her and her choices on the canvas. Nothing fancy, no real strokes. I just filled the canvas with her and the representation of all that she'd given me. Her colors and her ideas. She was the true artist here. I was an apprentice, learning from the best.

When the canvas was filled I took it out into the night, I let my friend Rain take its brush to her. I listened to her music. There was a pause within her chorus. I knew she had finished.

This morning, I awakened knowing that I had to finish the painting. The rain was still with me, speaking to me. I had to varnish the painting but didn't want to be the one to choose the medium. Again she spoke and asked for a high gloss coat. My friend the rain knows herself well. She glistens, her painting should have the same effect.

It's supposed to continue to rain for a while. I wish I didn't have to go to work today. The artist that is painting the world with her droplets has found a voice and a patient ear. She will have to wait for another day.