Part 1



VISITS INTO THE REAL REALITY Writing 4

10. MUSIC

(When I started my walk, I was in a sort of 'empty' mood. It would not have surprised me if nothing would happen. Without communicating this, I figured what my reaction would be in that case. I think I would accept mood swings or non-events and still know that the real world was not going to change because of those. I cannot affect this world. It remains up to me whether I connect. It solely is my choice.)

I did connect, and immediately my attention went to what I heard coming from the right, the same side where before I had seen the multitudes in white outfits, the musicians. There was a massive sound in the air, as from trumpets. I even thought I saw light reflected by their brass instruments. I strained my eyes to see better and saw at a distance row after row of people who seemed to produce the music; yet the strange thing was that I could not see them holding actual music instruments.

Behind the rows of musicians I saw a sea of people in white. The sound I heard was deep and haunting. It was all over, as if produced by a thousand orchestras. Focusing on the music, I realized how beautiful it sounded. It hit me, wave after wave. Its volume increased and then dissipated. There were intriguingly simple harmonies, so pure and straightforward that they were not simple anymore. There were orgies of sounds that had the potential to take over all of my awareness. Sometimes I could distinguish a theme that was taken up by all segments, brought to a dazzling climax and then, from all directions, new melodies rushed into the scene of sound, offering themselves to be explored.

Well, so it sounded to me. But honestly, I cannot describe the overwhelming sensation of it. I was fascinated. The classical music I like on earth, compared with this, would amount to a finger exercise. This, I heard as wind blowing in the woods causing the leaves to ignite an avalanche of original musical offerings, going from almost unbearable tenderness to way beyond full force.

I wanted to lie down and let it just come over me. But then I remembered the remark of Achmed indicating that I could be a more assertive person, one who could bless.

I was standing on a ridge. The countless musicians were at a distance somewhat below me. I told myself that I wanted to be among them, took a few steps, and was there. From afar, they seemed packed together, but actually there was room enough to comfortably move among them.

They did not pay attention to me. I saw that my clothes, a robe, compared with their white ones, looked grayish. They were all absorbed into making the music. Perhaps I should say, into being the music. Standing in the midst of it drew me into its intensity. The 'loudness' of it missed any heaviness; nothing of it was overpowering. When soft, it was like the whole cosmos whispering. It is so difficult to describe.

I remembered that they had no family life. Seeing them being one with their music gave me some sense of their being completely and intimately self-sufficient. They seemed to form one organism that dedicated itself to bring forth an ever fuller sound of beauty and praise. It may be very well their whole identity.

I felt a desire to be one of them and participate in this, the whole person absorbing activity. But I didn't dare to open my mouth to let out any sound. It would pathetically interfere and clash with the harmony that under-girded the ever changing modulations, moods and densities of the music. I hardly dared to move at all, afraid I would make a disturbing noise.

(I remembered that at times I wished - told I AM about it - that for the rest of my existence I wouldn't mind singing in the last row of a 'heavenly' choir, in case there is one. It seemed an appropriate place for me in eternity, to be busy with something beautiful while not having to be in the limelight.)

Then, suddenly I heard a human voice rising up from within the crowds of musicians. It soared above them. The voice filled all space. It had a deep, warm timbre. It was joined by other individual human voices, coming from other places; it seemed they sang from elevated invisible platforms. They supported and mingled with the movements and themes of the whole 'orchestra'.

It all was so awesome. I felt like happily drowning in the music, yet I also wanted to create some distance so I could process this experience. I moved back in the direction of the ridge. Some musicians noticed me now and friendly nodded but I didn't want to bother them.

I was back at the ridge. The music went on. Wisdom was there.

"How do you like it?" he asked.

I didn't need to answer. Everybody could have seen how enthralled I was. For a while, we both listened. We were sitting next to each other. I put my hand on his/hers. After a while, I noticed she was singing. A soft, alto-type of voice, following the modulations of sounds that seemed to fill the whole universe.

I whispered that I would love to join in but didn't dare; that it would offend the perfection and exquisite texture of this world of sounds; a nail scratching a blackboard.

Wisdom nodded. He whispered back that although I had already sung here, I was still too preoccupied with having to use my earthly vocal cords. (Coming to think of it, I realized I was not using them now. I didn't even breathe air. This was all so new. So how could I get out a sound now? The other day it happened 'by itself'.)

She suggested that if I wanted to join the music, I could just think that I wished it.

That was not difficult! What happened was that in a fraction of a second my body started to vibrate with an intensity that 'materialized' as a voice with a higher and higher pitch. The sound seemed to flow out of my body. I got tears in my eyes, because this amounted to there being no limitations in expressing myself. This truly was 'heavenly' singing.

The sound waves headed towards a climax. For a moment, I had the impression that the musicians held in, as if wondering where those two new voices, Wisdom's and mine, came from. But soon they resumed their all space filling outpouring. Our singing was an integrated part of it. It was like an orgasm, but one without ending. It was being happily drunk with beauty.

I had the impression that by singing this way, I was fulfilling a task. So, when after a while the music became more distant, I asked Wisdom about the meaning and purpose of this.

He explained that, indeed, it was the 'being' music that made it into a personal and comprehensive act of worshiping I AM. It was an unrestricted contribution to the glory of universal existence. She said there are no instruments like trumpets or strings as on earth. Yet, astonishingly to me, the varied earthly music instruments are capable to catch some of the colors, energy and sphere of the music here. It means that music on earth, in all its variety, originates here! This may explain why at times music has for me, and I guess for many others, a 'spiritual' or transcending quality.

He commented on my thinking that I saw the shine of silver or brass trumpets. She said that the reflection of light did not come from any metal but was the sparkling of sounds 'materializing'. So, while on earth instruments shape music and in that sense create it, here, the vibrations and intentions from within the musician create the channels that make it externally 'hear-able'.

I asked how the musicians know how to play.

"They learn," he said. "They have the desire and inclination within them. They follow up on it, ask to be taught techniques, watch others and then gradually start contributing their own presence. Whatever they offer is always welcomed and integrated in the total.

"There is no conductor?"

"No. It is a completely, what you call, democratic undertaking. No ranks, written scripts or composers. That is, everyone is writing their personal notes, so to speak. The individual contribution and the combined total feed happily on each other. It is democracy in its purest form, not feasible on earth. Things are discussed, but always, as you would say, sitting at a round table and as part of finding solutions."

"Can anybody learn to create and play music like this?"

"Yes, if they want to. You did."

"So if, for instance, Achmed's wife would like to become a musician, she could?"

"Yes, but not automatically. She would go through an introduction phase to see if this is what she really wants. If she likes a change in general, there are so many areas in which people can find utter satisfaction. If she persists, then, no, she doesn't have to learn to read notes. There are no written scores. But she will have to adjust to a new way of living."

"And what about Achmed and the children, in case she would choose to become a musician? Will she have to give up her present family situation?"

"Don't worry. The love they have for each other won't diminish. However hard for you to understand, no change ever takes place at the cost of anybody losing anything. She will never violate her commitment to the children or Achmed. He would be delighted seeing that she wanted to grow in expressing herself in beautiful new ways and he would happily adjust to it. The children, too. The secret here is that no life-form ever regresses but always moves forward to more perfection. The desire to change always comes from our freedom to live and love 'more'. Nobody is ever less because of it. In addition to this, do you remember I told you about our ability to be not just at one place at the same time?"

She must have seen my pained expression telling him 'This is too much', because he teased me with, "The real world is quite interesting, young man. But, if you want, you can keep playing in a sand box."

I decided to ignore my disbelief and his reaction.

"What if someone wants to be a stone, or a drop of water?"

She laughed and said that this was not likely to happen. "Theoretically, Achmed's wife could desire that, and he would support her choice. But why would she want it when being what she is now is her choice, and, on top of that, a life of limitless joy? For that matter, why should a drop of water want to be a human? It could, as nothing is set in stone or forbidden, but is in its own space part of a unit that is already perfect and in the process of becoming more so."

The music still went on. I felt a bit guilty about having interrupted my listening to it by asking questions that could have waited.

Wisdom stood up, kissed me on the forehead and was gone. The music faded away when I realized I was at the end of my walk.