Sumangali.org: In The Spirit Of Serendipity

I found this image yesterday on Flickr.com. Not only is it an exquisite shot (one of many exquisite shots by Maureen F), but I find it symbolic. The entire sun is clasped by a tiny fragile petal.

It reminds me of one of my favourite pieces of poetry:

“And truly, I reiterate, . . nothing’s small!
No lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee,
But finds some coupling with the spinning stars;
No pebble at your foot, but proves a sphere;
No chaffinch, but implies the cherubim:
And,–glancing on my own thin, veined wrist,–
In such a little tremour of the blood
The whole strong clamour of a vehement soul
Doth utter itself distinct. Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes…”
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning
From Book Seven of Aurora Leigh

…which reminds me that God is everywhere, equally in the tiniest, most fragile detail, as in the mightiest force. Somehow that is greatly comforting, although it means He is really all alone… but somehow that’s comforting too… which reminds me of a song by my meditation teacher:

“In atom and in pollen and in human frames
my life abides.
All beauty am I, immutable am I.
I drink my ambrosia all alone.“
—Sri Chinmoy
Translation of Anute Renute

Today Maureen F has put a caption to her latest masterpiece:

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Food for thought…

There seems to be a bit of a conservation theme going on in this blog at the moment, and it’s about to be perpetuated. A new monthly podcast has been released this week. The subtitle is what caught my eye first: The Extraordinary in Everyday Life. Smacks of serendipity to me, let’s have a look.

Episode I is about Dr. Josef Margraf, a German biologist who went to China and didn’t come back. It all started with a rare species of banana in a Buddhist monastery, but now he cultivates over a hundred different types of plant, by replicating their natural rainforest environments. In his own words:

“Our goal is to reverse the trend of destruction and eventually design systems that look exactly like the old rainforest that has been cut down by logging companies, that have been replaced by rubber plantations and sugar cane plantations. We wish to reverse this trend to come back to a rainforest that is actually useful.”

Dr Margraf says his work has not only led him to discoveries in nature but also discoveries in himself. Furthermore, he has been amazed by the profound success of his project, which he calls Tian Zi, or Seeds of Heaven.

You can watch the clip above, or you can subscribe to the series for free on iTunes. (You can get iTunes here if you don’t have it yet, and Quicktime here.)

LIFE Voices is created by Kedar Misani for SriChinmoy.TV

This week a new species of leopard was declared in Borneo. Until now it was thought to be so similar to its mainland cousin that it was considered the same species. In fact the two were separated 1.4 million years ago, during which time they each developed different markings. So a leopard can change its spots, it just takes a little time.

The expression “a leopard cannot change its spots” comes from a Greek proverb that appears in the Bible (Jeremiah 13:23):

“Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? Then may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do evil.”

Perhaps this bodes well then in the Grand Scheme of Things.

I’m not a great cat lover, but I do love great cats, and this one is very fine indeed. You can watch one prowling with the regal nonchalance reserved for those at the pinnacle of the food chain in this BBC article.

Borneo is a hotbed of scientific discoveries, a place where serendipity probably grows on trees. The Heart of Borneo conservation project says:

“The forests of the Heart of Borneo are some of the most biologically diverse habitats on Earth, possessing staggeringly high numbers of unique plant and animal species.”

I find it completely fascinating that so many exquisite creations exist in nature whether we are there to appreciate them or not (as I mentioned in The Newness of Now).

Only a couple of hundred years ago you’d have had to get on a ship for several weeks to see anything remotely tropical. Now you click a button and a Clouded Leopard is prowling around your living room. No scurvy, no sea-sickness, no creepy-crawlies. I love the 21st Century.

Image: WWF-Canon / Alain Compost BBC.co.uk

5.43am. 2 minutes before my alarm. I’m awake and smiling. This is a very unusual combination of events. Waking usually only happens after the snooze button has taken a pounding. Smiling usually only happens after my daily 6am meditation.

I remember this day every year: the day the dawn chorus wakes me. Winter’s discomfort becomes so familiar I forget to expect its end, or even to look forward to this day: the day that marks the start of spring.

Blackbirds are always first to rise. They’re smart and quick and can make do with very little light. They start to hunt for breakfast before the smaller more nervous ones, who wait until the sun gives them more light to travel by: first robin, then sparrows and dunnocks, and last the finches. We’ve been watching it all during our own breakfast over the past weeks, as the sky melts from navy, to royal, to powder blue.

Now it’s light by breakfast time and a lady Blackbird is setting up home in the Pyrocantha. She’s been considering it for a while, checking out the dimensions of various nooks, and the likelihood of cat invasions. A wide straw bowl on the first day, then springy dew-laden clumps of moss on the second, and now the smooth mud lining is being trampled down. In the blackbird world, plastering is not a man’s job. Mr Blackbird is a vigilant sentinel on the garage roof, occasionally offering inspections or consultations.

Blackbirds are flourishing in Britain. They are extremely common, but I am still thrilled every time I see or hear one. To me they are heralds of good news.

You can hear some good recordings of blackbird songs at Freesound.iua.upf.edu and BBC.co.uk

“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;–
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.”
William Wordsworth
From Ode on Intimations of Immortality

Meadowy metaphors used to be rife in English poetry. Wordworth’s were the days when wildflowers pranced on any land not trodden on or nibbled at for more than a season. His inability to see meadows as they “hath been of yore” was no doubt metaphysical, and not because they had all been ravaged by weeds. No, that’s more a 20th Century problem.

The problem is mainly that wildflowers thrive on unfertile soil, whereas weeds thrive on fertile soil. The increased use of fertilisers has made the remaining scraps of disused land home to aggressive, weedy tenants rather than poetic, meadow flowers.

As I discovered in Saturday’s Guardian, budding Wordsworths might still have something to write about in future years. Rae Spencer-Jones describes in Where The Wild Things Are how British motorway embankments are turning into meadowy havens, and abandoned land in built-up areas is winning the hearts of local residents with its new-found beauty.

In conjunction with other organisations like The Woodland Trust, the environmental charity Landlife has a wealth of initiatives aimed bringing wildflowers back to our countryside, including topsoil inversion: turning over the soil to reveal the less fertile layers. The charity dedicated 5 acres of land as a National Wildflower Centre in Court Hey Park, just outside Liverpool. They also supply seeds online for growing such delights as Bats-In-The-Belfry, Corncockle, Musk Mallow and Teasel. Truly irresistible.

Image source: Kedar Misani

This post is long overdue—perhaps about 20 years or so, as that’s how long I’ve admired Andy Goldsworthy’s approach to art. Thank God for the humble camera—without it most of his art would melt, blow, or rot back into the elements from whence it came, in the space of time it takes for the winds or tides to change, or the temperature to cheer up.

The sculptor-photographer was born in Cheshire, 1956, but now calls Scotland his home. I was first drawn in by an exhibition that everyone was raving about at art school. It was probably in Leeds City Art Gallery—because that’s about as far as we could ever afford to go from Harrogate—I don’t remember anything about it except the dumbfounded silence it left me with, and some shots of autumn leaves blazing in my mind’s eye.

A bunch of autumn leaves has always been enough to transport me—see God In a Nutshell—but it was the way he celebrated them that blew me away. This is how nature should be revered, I thought: an interaction leaving no lasting mark of interference, more a mute conversation between creator and Creator, or a game, knowing the latter will win in the end, but enjoying the play all the more for it.

When happening upon one of nature’s myriad miracles, rather than saying “That’s nice” and walking on by, Andy Goldsworthy dives right into the colours, patterns, shapes, textures, observes the rules of nature and extends them, enhances them, outlines them. If anyone is not afraid to get their hands dirty it’s him; using not just hands but teeth, feet and nearby natural materials as tools to coax leaves, mud, twigs and ice into new forms. It’s more than “environmentally friendly”; it is “environment,” but the dry leaves are poured on the earth like molten metal, the rough stones are soft giant eggs, the hostile ice enormous jewels.

Transience in art has always been a source of fascination to me, basically because that’s how God works. Man can echo that occupation of enjoying the process of creation, pausing proudly besotted with the product of it to celebrate its perfection, then moving on to a higher perfection. I love that.

“The artist’s long engagement with the dome parallels his interest in the markers of human passage through time—the structure itself follows a trajectory that includes Neolithic burial chambers and dwelling cairns, ancient Roman and Byzantine structures, Enlightenment architecture and modern public buildings.

The domical form developed in the artist’s oeuvre from his desire to give depth to the hole, or void, a device that has occupied Goldsworthy’s attention since early in his career. His decision to construct a dome with oculus on this site owes much to its northern orientation, which allows for a velvety black hole that no light can penetrate.”

US National Gallery of Art on the exhibition pictured below

I know nothing of his reasons for this recurring dome theme, but to me it is a glimpse of Infinity: a reminder of our own transience on the material plane of stone, ice and leaves, and of an eternal existence beyond it.

Andy, it’s not often I feel pride in being British, but right now, revisiting your art, I’m glowing with the stuff.

Links and Credits:

1. Morning Earth: nice tribute and collection of images
2. UK Government Art Collection: fine collection of gritty ice and stone sculptures.
3. US National Gallery: drystone dome exhibition in Washington 2004-5, pictured above

You can read more thoughts on art on my SriChinmoyCentre.org pages

Honey has been recognised for thousands of years as a cure for many common ailments. It is a miracle food with far-reaching merits: at once anti-bacterial, anti-viral, and anti-fungal.

13 Interesting Honey Facts:

1. The flavour, colour and texture vary depending on the nectar from which it was made. The less processed the honey, the more nutrients it contains. It can be used in a variety of foods and drinks instead of sugar, but raw honey has the most health benefits.
2. Raw honey straight from the comb contains traces of propolis–the substance bees use to seal the hive and protect it from harmful micro-organisms. Other so-called phytonutrients found in raw honey have been shown to help prevent colon cancer, and help internal ulcers to heal.
3. A regular intake of honey is known to be beneficial for general well-being, and an aid to digestion.
4. Honey has been shown to improve athletic performance, not only as a source of carbohydrate. This secret was even known by the ancient Olympians. It helps maintain blood-sugar, which in turn keeps energy consistent and aids muscle recovery.
5. Honey would be quite at home in your medicine cabinet. It has been used as early as 700 BC to aid healing, and was an ingredient in over 900 Ancient Egyptian remedies. Used topically it helps to ward off infection and soothes inflammation. Honey’s healing properties have been shown even to speed up the healing of serious wounds caused by first-degree burns and surgical operations.
6. Taken internally its anti-viral properties help support the immune system, warding off colds and flu.
7. Its anti-bacterial properties have proven it superior to certain widely-used anti-biotics in treating infection.
8. Its anti-fungal properties are even thought to inhibit Candida Albicans, and encourage the growth of healthy flora in the gut.
9. Honey, especially dark honey, is rich in antioxidants, helping to combat free-radicals, thus improving cell and organ function.
10. Eating honey made nearby may help reduce seasonal allergies, as it contains local pollen.
11. Honey is a healthy alternative to sugar. In diabetes patients it has been shown to cause a lower rise in blood sugar than refined sugar. It also reduces cholesterol.
12. Honey is a source of vitamin B2 (good for hair and nail growth, eyesight, and processing of food), vitamin B6 (good for skin, nerves and absorption of nutrients), iron (transports oxygen in the blood) and manganese (promotes enzyme function and muscle function).
13. Honey should be stored in an air-tight container. If it is kept away from moisture it keeps almost indefinitely, in fact it is possibly the only food that does not spoil. Archaeologists in Egypt tasted honey sealed in the tombs of the ancient pharoahs and found it to be still edible!

This article would not be complete without paying homage to the noble bee, a small but highly civilised creature:

“Bee, my bee,
Your day and night
And your patience-industry
Have no respite.
Hard you endeavour
To bring nectar
From the core of your service-tree.
You always don
The robe of fruitful victory.”
- Sri Chinmoy