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Painting by Jessie Arms Botke

“As matter becomes aligned with its true nature, it begins to vibrate at a higher frequency. It begins to sing. This song is one of the ways it will heal itself. Song has always been a magical way of healing, and the song of the world has tremendous power. In it, all the names of creation are remembered and awakened and celebrated. This song knows the name of God and sings of God in every leaf and every lake and every human being.

The song of the world belongs to the primary nature of all that is. It is life’s sacredness expressing itself, remembering its Source. But we need to listen for it; we need to hear it. We need to celebrate the song. Our ancestors’ knowing that everything they could see was sacred was not something taught but something deeply, instinctively heard.

The “sacred” is not something primarily religious or even spiritual. It is not a quality we need to learn or to develop. We all have within us a sense of the sacred, a sense of reverence, however we may articulate it. It is as natural as sunlight, as necessary as breathing.”

“I have been surprised by how much we are loved. I would never have believed when I began this journey half a century ago, that one could be loved so completely, totally in ways that are bewildering in their intimacy and intensity. I never believed that love could infuse every cell of the body as well as becoming a living presence within the heart.” — Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee

I think that art exists to show us the beauty and passion of living. It exists to show us what and where we are, to wake us up and remind us of the principle of Love.

We are somehow not fully alert to Reality. We inhabit a dim shadow world, not suspecting the brilliant aliveness coursing through us from birth to death and perhaps beyond. The power at the fundaments of life are stepped down from a million volts to a few dozen by our limited senses and consciousness.

We get glimpses of the essence of things at certain golden moments via luck, meditation, art and the grace of God. We live our metaphorical dramas in the course of a lifetime not suspecting that there is only one lesson — love is at the heart of everything.

The vision of the artist has been my chosen obsession for the last sixty years, along with the revelations of mystics and spiritual visionaries. I see them as connected, almost the same. The artist has to see more deeply, more precisely, more lovingly than usual, and then work to communicate that vision.

When I run across an artist like the one I show here, my faith in the human race is restored. In a world where blindness is common, it is inspiring to find an otherwise normal person working so prodigiously to put beauty into the mix.

Years ago, reading Thomas Moore I came upon a phrase that made sense to me. He spoke of “a religion of one’s own.” That makes good sense to me because my spirituality is self-constructed, a combination of art, philosophy, archetypal psychology, and a smattering of ideas from random places such as literature, ecology and travel.

I can’t abide conventional religious systems and their confines. I can’t breathe within those systems. I can’t find Love there, only rules and strictures. I’m thankful I live at a time when I’m not likely to be burned at the stake.

Let beauty rule, let love find its way, let the mind look deeply, let kindness prevail. That’s my religion, and that’s why the arts exist, I’m convinced.

That’s how some of us find God.

Written by

I occasionally write fiction and also about creativity, loving, language learning and travel. I’m a longtime painter and reader.

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