Remembering Infinity

Spirituality | Metaphysics | Consciousness | Life


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Remembering Infinity: The Magic of Music


What would our world be like without the magic of music?

What would our world be like without the magic of music?

What is it about music that stirs the soul? With its varied beats, rhythms, and tempos, music allows human beings to share an emotion, a feeling, or even an energy with so many others. It’s expressive. It’s creative. It’s timeless—and it’s universal. Even those who are unable to hear it may still appreciate its movements, its mood, and its vibration.

Well -executed music isn’t just a smattering of symbols and lines on paper or a wanton riot of sounds blasting from a variety of instruments either—it’s a beautifully expressive reflection of the creative soul who composed it. It’s the flowing precision of notes, chords, and tones from a skilled symphony. It’s the harmonious blend of human voices lifted in song. It’s even the driving energy of a garage rock band. Music inspires us to be even greater than we are and it invites us enjoy the richness of every living moment!

When we hear old, familiar songs, music remembers. When we’re driven to tears by life, music soothes. When we close our eyes and feel the chills running through our bodies, music thrills. Music brings movies to life. It welcomes. It blesses. It heals. And it drives us to action. Music is the dancer, the companion, and the lover. Music tells the stories of our history, cultures, beliefs, and even our dreams.

Even Nature has her music. There is the roar of the ocean in a sea shell or the song of birds on the wing. Waterfalls, rain, and the rush of waves against the shore are the perfect accompaniments to a sunset. The flickering earthward plunge of lightning, as the Grand Conductor’s baton, summons forth a resounding crash of thunder. The hiss of damp wood and the whisper of sparks drifting skyward from a campfire serve as a fanfare to the stars. The rhythmic hoot of an owl, the sigh of the wind in the trees, and even the mournful voice of a wolf are nocturnes on a moonlit night. All these—and so many more sounds compose the songs of Life that we so love to experience.

So consider, if you will for a moment, all the music in your life and imagine what life might be without it. Then quietly give thanks for all the composers, performers, and sounds that add so much to our Life’s experience. Music is their gift—and there are few greater.

So to all who labor to bring forth the musical expressions of their souls, I say, bravo, Maestro!  I AM humbled by your artful works…and I thank you!

Respectfully,

stargazericon

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Remembering Infinity: The Fun House


Sometimes, life can make us feel as if we’re trapped inside a giant, ever-changing kaleidoscope.

Sometimes, life can make us feel as if we’re trapped inside a giant, ever-changing kaleidoscope.

When I was a kid, I loved going to “Playland”. Playland was the quintessential beachside amusement park, complete with all kinds of carnival-style rides, a thrilling, twisty roller coaster, head-snapping bumper cars, and all sorts of skill games and prizes. On some special occasions (such as a birthday) my family and I would spend the better part of a day there. Dazzled by the lights, screams, and laughter of fellow revelers, we’d stroll along the Midway, eating hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy as we went.

Of all the attractions, the Fun House was my favorite. Everything was padded, even the floor, and you had to take off your shoes before you could go in.  In addition to many other things, it housed a huge, polished wooden slide, a giant spinning “record player”, and a dark, tunnel-like rolling barrel. The slide was several stories high and, if you were brave enough to sit on a burlap sack and let go at the top, the slippery ride down—with its several air-catching humps, would make your stomach feel a bit queasy. The giant “record player” was a blast, for people would sit on its flat wooden surface and squeeze together in the hope of staying on as it spun. The circular platform turned slowly at first, then it gradually gained speed, spinning faster and faster. One by one, we’d all fly off and careen into the padded walls. Only those in the center of the “record” stood any chance of staying on for the full ride—and that was only if they could somehow manage to endure the disorienting spinning motion. Finally, everyone would try to walk through the rolling barrel without falling down in a helpless, laughing heap. The latter two challenges always left us dizzy, giggling, and barely able to walk—or even stand up straight.

Everything in the Fun House, it seems, was designed to confuse, distract, disorient, and entertain—and it all worked marvelously! Bold stripes, vibrant colors, and sudden, hissing puffs of air from hidden nozzles assailed us from all angles as we raced from one attraction to the next.

Inside the Fun House, the Hall of Mirrors was one of the most challenging obstacles of the entire park. With its floor-to-ceiling polished mirrors and unpredictable twists and turns, only the bravest of souls dared enter. In many ways I suppose, a trip through the Hall was like being trapped inside a giant, ever-changing kaleidoscope. Some of the mirrors were perfectly smooth and clear, while others presented us with distorted reflections of ourselves. In one mirror, for example, one might be tall and thin. In another, one might be short and fat. In yet another, one might be wavy or even top-heavy.

Once inside the Hall of Mirrors, it sometimes felt it as if I’d never find my way out. The brilliantly-designed, holographic labyrinth frustrated every attempt at escape. I’d walk forward, only to crash into a reflection of myself or someone else. I’d turn a corner, thinking it was the way out, only to find it was a dead end. In this distorted world of confusion and false images, I felt nearly overwhelmed by feelings of fear, anger, and frustration. Once my older cousins began to help me along however, I gradually learned to overcome my sense of panic. I gained the confidence that allowed me to more carefully and patiently find my way out. Once through, I was gratefully reunited with those of my family who had waited outside. It took several successful trips through the mirrored maze before I finally felt comfortable enough to even begin enjoying the challenge.

Many years later, it occurs to me that life in the “physical realm” is a lot like a journey through the Hall of Mirrors. Things are rarely what they seem, the Truth of our path is cleverly hidden, and it’s exceedingly difficult not to become immersed in and confused by all the panic and commotion that surrounds us. At those times when I feel most lost in the maze of Life’s mirrors, I’ve learned that it helps to just stop for a moment and seek my own inner calm. The quiet sense of peace and reassurance I find reminds me that this is all just a game—and that everything here is just an illusion. I even seem to recall that I chose to be here—just so I could have this very experience. This soon helps me realize that I needn’t be afraid and, once I re-discover this, my journey quickly becomes fun again! I’m then able to move forward in confidence, knowing that one day I’ll eventually find my way out—and back to the Home I’ve always known.

So if the illusion of Life ever overtakes you and you find yourself feeling even a little afraid, just remember that it’s perfectly OK. Everyone feels that way from time to time.  Just grab my hand or the hand of the person next to you. We can all make our way through this amazing and wonderful House of Mirrors…together.

Respectfully,

stargazericon

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Remembering Infinity: Who Am I, Really?


Life is a never-ending gift—full of mysteries to ponder and worlds to explore.

Life is a never-ending gift—full of mysteries to ponder and worlds to explore.

By all outward appearances, I seem to know who I am. I’m a regular guy and I lead what most would consider a pretty regular life. I go to work every day, return home to my family each night, and take care of some of the daily chores that need to be done around the house (but not all of them, as my wife will sometimes remind me). I probably have many of the same fears, hopes, dreams, and personal “hang-ups” that many others have. But when I look at myself in a mirror, I just have to wonder—is what I see truly all there is?

As far back as I can remember, perhaps even to my youngest memories of childhood, I’ve always felt as if I was not just the physical “me” I saw in a mirror. I’ve had this strange feeling that I was something much, much more. It always seemed that the biggest part of me was somehow kept hidden and locked away, somewhere just beyond my reach.

I’ve also always felt that I was here to do, participate in, or at the very least experience something of epic importance. This particular feeling always came with an odd sense of excitement—an anticipation for something upon which I could never really place my finger and something for which I have no logical explanation. It’s a feeling not unlike a child might experience on the evening before his or her birthday, Christmas, or the last day of school—just before the start of summer vacation. It’s like I’ve been expecting something really great to happen, but I’ve no idea what it is or when it’s supposed to occur!

In a way, I guess I’ve come to think of life itself as a never-ending gift. Each time I open a splendidly wrapped aspect of self and begin to understand it, I find another carefully wrapped package inside—another new mystery for me to ponder and explore.

Over the last few years, I’ve gotten to know myself quite a bit better as a spiritual being—not just a mortal being in a rather average human body. I’ve also become more and more convinced that I’m a volunteer. I somehow know that I chose to be here at this particular time in Earth’s history—perhaps, as many others similarly believe, to participate in our planet’s ascension as it moves to higher realms of consciousness or a higher dimension.

Whatever the case may be, I deeply appreciate being in this place, at this time, and in this particular “self”. I can’t help but feel that I’m “on the beam” (as my grandmother used to say) and following the best path for my own spiritual evolution. I still don’t know exactly who or what I AM, I suppose—because I’m still very much a work in progress. But I somehow know that I AM getting there, moment by moment, step by step, and day by day. And, after all, isn’t that what this miraculous journey called life is all about?

Respectfully,

 stargazericon

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Remembering Infinity: Love…Is.


Love…is.  Love will always be.

Love…is. Love will always be.

This post is dedicated in deepest gratitude to my wife and closest friend—and to all who Love, everywhere.

A s I sat thinking about something special to write for Valentine’s Day, I naturally began to think about “love” and what the word really means. I supposed I could look up the word in the dictionary, but would a clinical dissection of those four little letters help me understand and express what “love” truly is? Hardly.

It occurred to me that “love” is something that’s quite different for everyone—and, indeed, there are many kinds of love. I was delightfully reminded of that (love)able character, “Bubba” in the movie “Forrest Gump”, when he begins listing all the different kinds of shrimp and ways to prepare them. “They’s, um, shrimp kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, pan-fried, deep-fried, stir-fried, pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp…”, and so many others.

Just as there’re all kinds of ways to cook and enjoy shrimp, there’re all kinds of love. There’s brotherly love, sisterly love, love of country, love for certain foods, things, or activities, Divine Love (the kind we receive from our Creator), unconditional love, compassionate love, romantic love, unrequited love, and so on.

Since love is such a deeply personal and circumstantial thing, I decided to write about what “love” means to me. Quite obviously, it’s an emotion. It’s an intense feeling of warmth, joy, attraction, and contentment—all rolled into one. It’s a profound attraction, desire, or even yearning to completely engage or embrace someone or something. It’s a feeling that makes us want to freely and fully experience that which is the focus of our attention at that very moment. And it’s a feeling that seems to touch us on so many levels, all at once. It tugs at our hearts. It soothes our souls. It heals. It comforts. It fulfills. It brings excitement and happiness. To me, love is all these things—and so much more.

Love is the mother cradling her newborn child in her arms. As she basks in the glow of her accomplishment, Love soothes her pain, eases her exhaustion, and lifts her spirits.

Love is the quiet hand extended in friendship, forgiveness, or apology.

Love is the tearful hug shared by two souls suddenly reunited—when each thought the other had been lost forever.

Love is a playful puppy, bouncing across the lawn in pursuit of a shrieking, delighted toddler.

Love is the compassionate, cooling touch of a damp cloth upon a fevered brow or a mother’s tender kiss upon a child’s injured finger.

Love is the strength of a father, lifting his child up high to peek in wonder at the soft blue eggs in a robin’s nest.

Love is the shy, blushing excitement of youth’s first kiss.

Love is the tender embrace of two wayward souls, each desperately seeking—and finding, blessed completion in one another’s arms.

Love is the warmth of two hands, joined together in the promise of home, family, and lifelong companionship.

Love is the peace that two share, their bodies entwined in passion’s blissful afterglow.

Love is in the last thundering beats of a heart—as one life willfully, selflessly, and fiercely sacrifices itself for another.

Love is in the soft lines, wrinkles, and unsteady steps of one who has lived long and well.

Love is in the gentle tears that fall as we hold a dear one tight in final embrace.

Love is beautiful, love is blind.

Love is respectful, selfless, and kind.

Love is perfectly felt by the soul when, suddenly released from earthen bonds, it remembers that it is indeed infinite and immortal. Soaring blissfully free among the stars, it finally returns to The One who has always been and will always be—Home.

Love…is.  Love will always be.

May you and yours find all the Love that is you, this Valentine’s Day—and always!

With profound Respect and very much Love,

stargazericon

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Remembering Infinity: Hidden History


Like precious treasure, Spiritual Truth has been hoarded and hidden from Mankind for far too long.

Like precious treasure, Spiritual Truth has been hoarded and hidden from Mankind for far too long.

One of my favorite topics of study, in addition to all things Spiritual, is history. I find the influences that past events, philosophies, and knowledge have had on our own times to be quite fascinating.

I suppose that my deep appreciation for history is at least partially due to the fact that my own family tree is a rather eclectic one (as I suppose I AM too, in many ways). Since the roots of my lineage may be traced back to nearly a dozen European countries, it’s quite easy for me to imagine that my own ancestors, if they didn’t actually participate in many of these events, may have at least witnessed some of them. It’s strange, but I sometimes seem to feel my own deep connection with certain periods in history—as if I may have experienced them myself, perhaps in a former life.

Of all the connections I’ve felt however, the one to medieval times—and to the Knights Templar, in particular, seems to be the most compelling. I find their history and philosophies to be unusually and inexplicably intriguing. On my own Spiritual quest, I often feel as if I’m winding my way through a maze of dark and dusty castle halls—where the most profound secrets of Life have been hidden. Along the way, I’ve been surprised to find that many of the ideas and teachings of the Rosicrucians, the Knights Templar, and the Masonic Order (Freemasons) not only make a great deal of sense, they resonate quite deeply with my own sense of Truth.

It’s been interesting for me to note that the doctrines of these and many other esoteric societies are “Christ-based”. That is, they recognize Jesus of Nazareth or Jesus the Christ as a preeminent prophet and teacher. They also understand God to be an infinitely compassionate, forgiving, and loving Being. In many ways, their teachings support my view that we are God—and that God is us (just as God is everything else). Consequently, it follows that we should all be capable of making a deeply personal connection with “Him”—and indeed All That Is. This wonderfully organic viewpoint suggests that we don’t necessarily need a church, ritualistic dogma, or someone to save us from a “life of sin”, as so many organized religions have taught us. We are all appreciated, forgiven, and loved unconditionally—period.

I recently watched an episode of “America Unearthed” on The History Channel. The show made it abundantly clear, at least to me, that the knowledge these Gnostic organizations made every effort to protect is much closer to the Truth than so many others would have us believe. In “The Templar’s Deadliest Secret”, forensic geologist Scott Wolters helps uncover and disclose a trail of evidence that shows how those in power have, for centuries, fought to keep much of this sacred knowledge hidden—in order to preserve it for themselves.

Governments, churches, and the wealthy zealots who control them have wantonly suppressed, tortured, and even killed those who would speak out against them—and even those who might dare to believe differently. The multitude of “Holy” Wars, Inquisitions, and other acts of persecution these groups have waged upon Mankind clearly shows their intent to impose control at virtually any cost. In fact, you may note that today is Friday, the 13th—a day of bad luck, according to Western superstition. Perhaps this brutal abuse of power is one of the reasons why, for, on Friday, October 13, 1307, hundreds of the Knights Templar were said to have been imprisoned by King Philip IV of France. They were tortured, forced to falsely confess to crimes against the Church, and ultimately burned at the stake. In Light of those circumstances, I felt it highly appropriate that I post this today.

It now seems quite clear that many of our governments, organized religions, and privileged leaders have suppressed the Truth, re-written history, and presented their own versions of so-called “spiritual truth”, all in an effort to keep an unwitting population at a severe disadvantage. It is thus that most of Mankind has been kept perpetually in the dark, asleep, and unwittingly enslaved.

Those in lofty positions of power claim that they will “teach” us, “lead” us, and perhaps even “save” us, but is their truth what we truly believe? Our governments, corporations, and many religious organizations insist that they are philanthropic and self-effacing. If that’s truly the case, then why do they hold such obscene amounts of wealth—while so many others are left to live in blind ignorance, abject poverty, mounting debt, and eternal suffering?

It has taken me over fifty years to understand and catch limited glimpses of the Truth—the Truth that we, as a collective, have been kept in the dark for far too long. We’ve learned much from the experience and we may certainly be grateful for its lessons, but I suggest that it’s now time for us to know and understand the real Truth. We and our ancestors have paid a hefty price for it, after all—through millennia of persecution, pain, suffering, bloodshed, and human sacrifice.

So let’s all uncover the Truth together. Let’s begin learning to look inside ourselves, inside our own hearts for the Truth. Let’s establish our own personal, deeply intuitive connections to our Creator, our Earth, and all our Brother and Sister beings. With new understanding, we’ll finally be able to move forward in Peace, Forgiveness, Healing, and Love.

We’ve most certainly earned the right to that.

Respectfully,

stargazericon

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Remembering Infinity: The Performance of a Lifetime


We’re all the co-writers, directors, and performers of our own Life productions.

We’re all the co-writers, directors, and performers of our own Life productions.

Aren’t movies, plays, and other live performances marvelous?  We can hardly wait for the latest “blockbusters” or tickets for our most anticipated events to be released.  We often find ourselves checking websites for new information or trailers, discussing suspected plot twists with family or friends, or eagerly planning for that special “premiere” night out.

When the time arrives to go, we gather early at the theater, sometimes bravely defying darkness, cold, or inclement weather to purchase our tickets.  But we wouldn’t miss the show for anything. The theater greets us with a sweeping blaze of spotlights, twinkling marquee lights, and brilliant, colorful streaks of neon.  Lavish carpeting, richly papered walls, and palatial adornments welcome everyone inside and the appetizing aroma of buttered popcorn entices us to the snack bar—where a colorful array of confections and fountain drinks awaits.

Fortified with armfuls of treats, we find our places and settle back comfortably in plush seats. We chat quietly amongst ourselves for a few minutes as others file in and then, the moment we’ve all been waiting for finally arrives. The house lights dim and the curtain slowly rises, a hush falls over the audience, and the performance begins.

Within moments, reality fades away and we find ourselves in another world—a world filled with romance, comedy, fantasy, or drama. We laugh. We cry. We gasp in fright or wonder at the unfolding scenes before us. Captivated by the skill of the actors or performers, we become so immersed in the experience that we forget who—and where, we really are. For several unforgettable hours, we’re transported to another place or another time, and allowed to experience something we otherwise might not. And we wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.

When the house lights rise and the final curtain falls, we often find ourselves mildly disheartened, for we know we must return to our everyday lives and reality. Our sudden return somehow leaves us wanting so much more. In some performances, the audience rises and erupts in heartfelt and thunderous applause. The standing ovation and shouts of “Encore!”, “Encore!” remind us that we’ve witnessed something we’ll never forget. In fact, the very recall of it will later fill us with renewed emotion and an even deeper sense of appreciation.

In this grand theater and on the ever-changing stage of Life, we are the co-writers, the directors, and the performers of our own productions. God, the One Infinite Creator—in the guise of us and our many fellow actors, is our audience. Through the gift of Free Will, “He” has allowed us to create and share our own stories. In His own way, God laughs with us, cries with us, and deeply appreciates us. Indeed, that’s why He loves us unconditionally. As we share our own stories, we allow Him to fully experience Himself as All That Is. After all, it is only through us and all the other Beings of Creation that He may come to know Himself.

Your life has been and will continue to be a living masterpiece. It’s a magnificent tribute to the one and only you. I AM here today, gazing in wonder, in awe, and in appreciation of your work. I AM here today, standing to applaud you—and your wonderful story. Though it may have only just begun, it’s already a superlative presentation! And when the final curtain someday falls on this particular scene of your life, know that you will have humbly given your all to present the performance of a lifetime.

Bravo! Bravo!!

Respectfully,

stargazericon

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