Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Wind blowing through
I feel the sound of the wind. That is I am unsure if the wind has this sound or if the sound I hear is shaped by my experience of it on my head. I turn to face the other way and now the sound is different. Standing still I breathe mindfully to let go of thoughts and then bring my attention to his skull battering wind. Now it is more a harmony of sounds, textures and touches. Do I hear things as they are? I am not so sure given that our body shapes and interacts with sound of all kinds. Wind I invariably find brings me to a certain stillness. On a rare occasion it evokes a deep memory but for that to happen the wind must be shaped to call forth the experience, usually waves of sound reminding me of a childhood on the English coast where wind was almost always a feature alongside the cry of gulls and often the music of pebbles dragged across the beach by waves alternating with the smaller finer voice of shingle. Yet the wind is the canopy for this experience of mind so many years later. Wind against skull, wind seemingly blowing through me, wind an invitation to contemplate interdependence.