On craziness…

And I hadn’t even turned on the tv or gotten the paper yet…

Well, I had skimmed through FaceBook, but that’s not really the craziness I was refering to. Just the craziness of daily life sometimes. When we have back-to-back weeks juggling multiple meetings, being everywhere, wading through a tsunami of email…

Until you finally have a couple of free weekends sandwiching a light schedule at work. Not that you’re going to be any less busy. After all, you’ve got all those personal and professional to-do list items that were swept aside by the hectic schedule, to work on. But it’s your schedule, you feel in control again…

Not looking ahead to the week coming up, the week when the craziness begins again.

Cry out!

Why must These tears fall,
crying, crying, into the night –
missing… missing… we have lost them,
lost them all.

Wheel of time,
you’ve hardly turned before they’re gone.
Turn back, turn back and restore,
restore to me mine!

I will hold you, hold you ever,
in thought, in prayer, in sighing breath,
my child, my sister, father, mother, brother, lover —
here, here in my heart living ever.
Here in my heart,
live forever.
Here…
And still I cry!

Immortal Beauty

So much unfathomable loss, of youth, beauty, life…

Johna Till Johnson's avatarWind Against Current

By Johna Till Johnson

Maria Radner Maria Radner, 1981-Eternity

Among the victims of Germanwings Flight 9525 was Maria Radner, a German opera singer. She was a 33-year old contralto who specialized in Wagner.  I hadn’t heard of her before—no surprise since I’m new to opera, and have yet to warm to Wagner’s music.

But a commentator on one of the news stories posted the video below. Maria Radner sings “Urlicht” (“Primeval Light”) from Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2, the Resurrection Symphony.

It’s just under five minutes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite so lovely. Looking into her serene blue-gray eyes and insouciant half smile, and listening to that soaring voice, all I can think of is that although a deranged man was able to take away her life, the beauty she brought into this world is immortal.

The lyrics translate as follows:

I am from God and want to return…

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Beauty (Hózhó)

Beauty, I’ve been meaning to explain my frequent use of “beauty” as a category or tag in my posts. I knew I needed to do this almost as soon as I started posting more frequently. Why? you ask. Because I just as quickly began to have a number of young women view, like my posts and begin following me. I AM NOT complaining.

I just couldn’t figure out why. Until I would get a enough time to visit their blogs, many of which were focused on beauty as well. Except it was beauty in a different, certainly more common, sense. They were interested in, blogging about, beauty, cosmetics, fashion, etc.

Before I go any further I need to tell you that I am not Dineh (Navajo), I was not raised by the people, not have I been schooled or trained in their ways or customs. My understanding, what I am about to say, is solely my own interpretation of my readings in English about the Dineh concept and practice of walking in beauty. Any errors are mine and I would appreciate feedback/correction from those who wish to provide it.

Beauty, when I use it as a category or tag, is in the Dineh sense of hózhó náhásdlii (to walk in beauty). That sense, quite literally, that all around us and about us is in harmony. That nature, my person, my spirit, are all vibrating to the same harmonic. Let me give you an example.

It was a hike a few years ago. A day hike of about 10 or 12 miles along a blazed trail through one of the state forests where I live. I’d been on the trail about an hour, a little more maybe, working along one ridge line that was slightly lower than the one to the west which I was paralleling. The trail turned west and then back to the north and suddenly I was in a little glade, a stream burbling through it, the tempeture dropped 10 degrees, there was a massive yew streamside in the middle of the glade, and I cannot describe adequately the complete sense of peace, tranquility, rightness… My Irish self would probably call it a thin place, those secret spots where the barrier between worlds is nearly non-existent. I spent an hour in that place, in hózhó.

I’ve hiked that trail twice since. It’s not been the same in the glade. Me, or the universe, one of us was out of synch those days, not hózhó náhásdlii.