Tuesday, 3 March 2009

The Music of Words, the Words of Music, the Music of Life

Music can be a gift almost beyond measure. In a way that is difficult for any other form of Art to match, it can stir the emotions and draw forth from the soul what can scarcely be explicated - the Source that is the Mystery that lies at the heart of life.


It does sometimes pain me that I believe I do not possess any musical talent. I adore music beyond measure - but it is not something that my over analytical brain is good at creating itself.

Instead, I can merely recognise greatness, the larger Greatness that lies beyond it all - the deepest realm of the human condition. So therefore, I am an avid listener.

I sometimes feel so incredibly privileged to share the company of some people I meet. Someone who is, to use the cliché, but true, a beautiful person.

If that person also happens to possess a fabulous musical talent, so that their very being shines through in every word they sing, I feel humbled - and honoured to be in their presence.


I do not possess the vehicle for expressing the music in myself - so all I have are words.


Words - can I raise them into a concerto of paragraphs?

Music can express that which cannot be written. Words can express that which cannot be directly communicated by music.

Words or music. Or both. Either together, individually... they all possess a power a moment a grasping a perfection a sublimity a chance a hope a within a being a divinity.


Can I find the words to express the tears that roll down my cheeks? Can I find the words to express the focus I draw upon in concentration? Can I find the words to express the strength that picks up me when every hope is seemingly lost? Can I find the words to express the beauty I see everywhere around me? Can I find the words to express the dark abyss that opens under me? Can I find the words to express the pain of this abyss? Can I find the words to express the love I draw from this abyss? Can I find the words to express the always present ambiguity and complexity of life? Can I find the words to express the Man that I want myself to be? Can I find the words to express the Man I want the world to see? Can I find the words to express the dream that closing the gap to that Man within myself represents?

Can I find the words to express the ocean of warmth I feel, when, in that infinity of but a mere instant, I look deep into her eyes?

Can I find the words to express that which, in the service of words, only deserves nothing less than the exceptional, shining, radiant, glorious and effervescent luminous energy that, truly, words in the service of language; in the service of the human condition; in the service of those great spiritual depths... deserves, unconditionally.

The quest for those perfect words, that perfect living poetry is the same quest as to find that love.


I feel that I must do everything I can, give everything I have got, strive to go far beyond all that I am capable of, somehow find a way, to capture, if only for a moment, those precious few words that will crystallise a glimmering of that which I most want to share.

Will I be able to find those words? Will I be able to write them? Will I even possibly be able to utter them?

When it matters most, when that brief split second arrives, can I find the symphony of words that will stir her soul?

Can I raise the words sufficiently high to tap into that ocean of feeling that the finest music evokes.

And so I feel daunted; only a few have a mastery of language so complete and so sufficient that every single one of their very words dance upwards in a serenade of exquisite resonance.

Every time I strive to type something attempting to express to terrain of Truth, each letter for me carries an awesome responsibility - a responsibility to add something of beauty and value to the world. Words! My only real creative outlet. Can I serve that which rises far beyond?

I find the prospect of writing poems and literature terrifying - yet you can only reach within, reach further, to find and in your craft expose that very aspect of your being.

Shakespeare is of course rightly seen as one of those true masters. Sonnet number 53:


What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

Meeting someone can be the spark that picks you up, ready to strive to face the challenge, to search to find those words. If they are themselves someone who draws upon the source, they then become a fountain of personal inspiration for you.

5 comments:

Lily-Wren said...

Well, all I can say is that you do indeed possess a great talent for words. What an beautiful blog. I would say leave music for the ones who possess that talent and enjoy the stirring of the soul that it may bring.

The way you use words is a gift in itself and through using such words as you have done you will indeed 'stir her soul'.

I too admire anyone in possesion of such skills to be able to paint an image and stir the emotions using music. When done to such a degree you can actually see the artists soul, his/her method of channelling beyond to creat such music and messages.

But equally I feel that a poem, a letter and the use of words conjures up emotions and images just as well.

You have a talent with the use of your words and that in itself is a great gift.

Sorry I gatecrashed! I was just looking up 'Runes' on blogger and checking other people's blog!

Blessings
:)

Indyeah said...

Beautiful Aren...let me just say brilliant!:)
will link to yours for the series on words and watch my friends getting blown away by all that you have penned down here so beautifully...you create magic with words...

Aren O. Týr said...

Cheers Lily-Wren! There are no gate-crashers here, all are welcome to read and comment as they wish :-)

Art can be rendered in many wonderful forms - and who is to say which is the best path up the mountain? Rather, they each offer a different path towards truth.

Thank you for the warm commentary. You have a lovely blog too, and I have left a little comment on one post :-)

On Runes, I will post about them at some point. I have a couple of sets but they are both buried away. Your own hand made set looks fabulous!

And, of course, one should always strive to make one's own set like you have done, as it will then be especially endowed with your own alchemical energy.

As my surname might suggest - and, it would be great to think, my blog in general - the Tiwaz rune, in particular, does hold significance for me. But that is a post for another day :-)

@Indyeah: Once again you honour me with kind words - you are someone who always has so much time for everyone :-)

Lily-Wren said...

Ahh Aren,
Yes I got your 'little' comment :)
Very interesting take on The Idiot. Which I shall respond to back on mine at some point!

I would agree that art can come in many forms and each just as vital as the other. I was commenting on another blog which was developing into a rather interesting discussion. This was about love and 'sharing' love..anyway I do believe love manifests itself on different levels and can see this omparison with art, music and words. All managing to reach the depths of the soul in different ways.

Ah Tyr, the rune of courage, strength and victory! A wonderful rune indeed to hold significance. I think we have particular runes at particular stages in our lives. These guide and help us and we need to look at them and take heart from their words. For the last year Eihwaz has been such a rune.

Tyr is also a wonderful rune to have guiding you as I am sure you know :)

Yes, I had a set of runes bought for me about 4 years ago now. But after a year I made my own out of copper beech. I wanted fallen Yew branch due to the associations of the yew tree, longevity and divination, but it is so hard to find round here. Oak would have been good too, but my step father found and brought me a wonderful fallen copper beech branch and I saw that as a gift..

Making the Runes was a very meditative and, sometimes, risky practice! One slip of the wood carver and ouch!!! I hope to make another set soon from the said Oak.

I shall keep popping by to read some more :)

dianne said...

Your words are as beautiful and flow like music. ♥