We live and breathe music.
perceptional "milestones", sounds with an impact...
From early childhood i have been sensitive to sounds. Being born with an open mind and an active memory, a "sensitive child" as my parents explained to those interested, my memory contains some vivid "sound experiences".
Some of the more dramatic: the sound of my fathers voice as he tried to train his sibling to stop wetting his diapers, my mother was hospitalized for 14 days when i was a year and a half, and when she returned my father had successfully trained me to function without a diaper. My inner picture is that of me standing in a ray of sun , falling in through the window in our living room, my fathers appearence high above me, the sight of his piercing steelblue eyes and the sound of his voice scolding me and commanding me to stand still in the sun untill my diaper has dried out. My whole being crumbling and disappearing in the very sound of that harsh voice untill nothing was left but the sound itself. An other vivid sound experience, when i was 4 years old was that of crushing an insect between two fingers, the crisp sound of the bugs shield crushing and the sense of all mighty power filling my body. Later on, when i started attending school i loved listening to the teachers voice when he was reading the tales of the bible. How i loved those tellings of Adam and Eve and of jesus. Then in 3. grade the inevitable question: "Teacher, how come, Adam and Eve being the very first people on this earth, how come Cain slaughters his brother and flees into a tribe in the desert? Where did that tribe come from? Who were they? Where did they come from?" And then the sentence that made my world crumble and pushed my being further in to darkness: "my friend- teacher said - those are just stories, fairy telling, not some thing to believe in..". I can still hear his voice, its tonality, and the sound of emptiness as i lost the last of faith in the grown ups. From that point on i lost interest in school and school work and started daydreaming instead of following the classwork. I turned my attention to the school library and soon i disappeared in a world of storytelling and fantasy. Growing older i started listening to the radio, especially the programs with classical music, much to my fathers disappointment. Boys should not sit still and listen to such kind of music. Boys should be out doing practical work. Besides reading books and listening to music, i spent a lot of time by the river and in the woods. I fled in to nature, roaming around like a wild child, exploring wildlife and enjoying solitude. The sounds of grasshoppers playing their kind of music, the sound of the wind in the tall grass and in the treetops, the sound of frozen snow quirking under my feet.
later on when i finished school my mother payed me a ticket to Greenland, and i spent half a year by my uncle´s farm in southern Greenland. to me, this was a mind blowing experience. at first the sound of silence. Greenland in wintertime is so silent you can hear the blood in your ears. Your heartbeat and your breath is all there is to hear. When i walked in the mountains i could hear classical music, i expected to see the orchestra around every hilltop. This was my first experience of "inner hearing" later on it developed into clairaudience.
Come spring, the sound of nature began increasing. Overnight there was birds singing. In the evening: no birds - not a single one - in the morning thousands and thousands of little birds singing. This was the very south part of Greenland and the first place of the birds to land when they came back from their winter retreat in europe.
And a deep increasing rumbling, at first i was puzzled then i realized: it was the rivers growing from the melted snow of the mountains turning from little creeks to roaring deep rivers.
Another mind puzzling sound was that of little bricks of ice melting along the shore, water that was frozen for 3000 years ago and now melting in front of my eyes, the sound so crisp, a very special high pitch. The ice being very compressed and hard by he weight of the 3000m thick ice cap of Greenland, and those little hard pieces, leftovers from the icebergs breaking loose form the ice cap, with a sound of tiny silver bells ringing in some aetheric temple, floating in the water being moved by the tiny waves and singing the sound of water regaining vitality and fluidity after a 3000 years sleep. I spent days sitting on the big rocks listening to that sound, disappearing totally in the experience. Another meditative sound was the sound of tiny waves slapping the side of the boat, when we anchored the boat in some fjord for the night. Lying in the boat, gently rocking, and listening to those tiny waves telling the story of wind and tide, drifting mentally in to a dream world, with out pain, with out loneliness, just the sensation of BEing, sensing the wastness of the ocean two inches away, just on the other side of the wooden board, dissolving the physical boarders and allowing awareness to blend and mingle with mother earth herself.
Some of the more dramatic: the sound of my fathers voice as he tried to train his sibling to stop wetting his diapers, my mother was hospitalized for 14 days when i was a year and a half, and when she returned my father had successfully trained me to function without a diaper. My inner picture is that of me standing in a ray of sun , falling in through the window in our living room, my fathers appearence high above me, the sight of his piercing steelblue eyes and the sound of his voice scolding me and commanding me to stand still in the sun untill my diaper has dried out. My whole being crumbling and disappearing in the very sound of that harsh voice untill nothing was left but the sound itself. An other vivid sound experience, when i was 4 years old was that of crushing an insect between two fingers, the crisp sound of the bugs shield crushing and the sense of all mighty power filling my body. Later on, when i started attending school i loved listening to the teachers voice when he was reading the tales of the bible. How i loved those tellings of Adam and Eve and of jesus. Then in 3. grade the inevitable question: "Teacher, how come, Adam and Eve being the very first people on this earth, how come Cain slaughters his brother and flees into a tribe in the desert? Where did that tribe come from? Who were they? Where did they come from?" And then the sentence that made my world crumble and pushed my being further in to darkness: "my friend- teacher said - those are just stories, fairy telling, not some thing to believe in..". I can still hear his voice, its tonality, and the sound of emptiness as i lost the last of faith in the grown ups. From that point on i lost interest in school and school work and started daydreaming instead of following the classwork. I turned my attention to the school library and soon i disappeared in a world of storytelling and fantasy. Growing older i started listening to the radio, especially the programs with classical music, much to my fathers disappointment. Boys should not sit still and listen to such kind of music. Boys should be out doing practical work. Besides reading books and listening to music, i spent a lot of time by the river and in the woods. I fled in to nature, roaming around like a wild child, exploring wildlife and enjoying solitude. The sounds of grasshoppers playing their kind of music, the sound of the wind in the tall grass and in the treetops, the sound of frozen snow quirking under my feet.
later on when i finished school my mother payed me a ticket to Greenland, and i spent half a year by my uncle´s farm in southern Greenland. to me, this was a mind blowing experience. at first the sound of silence. Greenland in wintertime is so silent you can hear the blood in your ears. Your heartbeat and your breath is all there is to hear. When i walked in the mountains i could hear classical music, i expected to see the orchestra around every hilltop. This was my first experience of "inner hearing" later on it developed into clairaudience.
Come spring, the sound of nature began increasing. Overnight there was birds singing. In the evening: no birds - not a single one - in the morning thousands and thousands of little birds singing. This was the very south part of Greenland and the first place of the birds to land when they came back from their winter retreat in europe.
And a deep increasing rumbling, at first i was puzzled then i realized: it was the rivers growing from the melted snow of the mountains turning from little creeks to roaring deep rivers.
Another mind puzzling sound was that of little bricks of ice melting along the shore, water that was frozen for 3000 years ago and now melting in front of my eyes, the sound so crisp, a very special high pitch. The ice being very compressed and hard by he weight of the 3000m thick ice cap of Greenland, and those little hard pieces, leftovers from the icebergs breaking loose form the ice cap, with a sound of tiny silver bells ringing in some aetheric temple, floating in the water being moved by the tiny waves and singing the sound of water regaining vitality and fluidity after a 3000 years sleep. I spent days sitting on the big rocks listening to that sound, disappearing totally in the experience. Another meditative sound was the sound of tiny waves slapping the side of the boat, when we anchored the boat in some fjord for the night. Lying in the boat, gently rocking, and listening to those tiny waves telling the story of wind and tide, drifting mentally in to a dream world, with out pain, with out loneliness, just the sensation of BEing, sensing the wastness of the ocean two inches away, just on the other side of the wooden board, dissolving the physical boarders and allowing awareness to blend and mingle with mother earth herself.
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