Shadows Introductions

Part Two

a Kether Muse

(copyright)

 The headdress is amazingly dazzling and magnificent. Beautifully beaded in intricate and colorful designs. It's age and origins unknown but images of ancient ritualistic ceremonies flood my minds eye. Tibet, Africa or Peru? But then again I also see a smiling young flapper dancing across the floor with total abandon donning the accessory in accordance with the Egyptomania of the times. Whimsical thoughts as I run my finger across its surface and note where repairs have been made over the years to salvage this object of obvious special intrigue. That last thought brings me back to my present surroundings and out of the mini-trance I was swept away in. Still caressing this treasure I look up from my chair and gaze out the window to the sunny morning. I see Shadow standing outside near a tree, motioning for me to follow him. I rise obediently, for when my love, my guru, beckons I respond. I am eager and have no pressing matters to distract me from my lessons. And it has been way too long since my last. I exit the house with quickened step because Shadow has already almost disappeared at the edge of the tree line and I do not wish to lose sight of him.

 My pace, still a bit quicker than my norm, takes me down one of the winding, and fortunately, familiar pathways through the forest. I sense where it is Shadow is leading as I catch glimpses of him ahead in the filtered dancing sunlight. The birds are singing their morning greetings to the light and I hear my name in their melodies. It makes me smile knowing they recognize me and add me to their song. Not too far off is a little open meadow which Shadow often makes the classroom of the day where he instructs and guides me. I am out of breath a bit and am glad when we draw near our destination because I know there is an old stump at the meadow's edge where I can sit and gather my body and my thoughts in preparation for whatever Shadow has in store for me. Anxious to sit I see my appointed seat and approach. But before I can sit, there is an object there I must remove.

 “How very odd and unusual” I think to myself in an astonished tone while I plop down hard on my seat as I am a bit exhausted from our hike. I smile at my surprise, because I should be accustom to things being odd and unusual when it comes to Shadows teachings. As I settle myself I begin to examine my prize.. It is a conductors baton. It is about 16 inches long, but shaped in a taper more like a extended chopstick than a baton, but in my mind I am told it is a baton by an unrecognizable voice. Beautiful black ebony wood or so it appears and decorated with flowing designs of inlaid mother of pearl. Such a lovely object, but what is its purpose for today? I look up, scanning the meadow for Shadow. I do not see him. But there in the middle of the arena is a surreal scene that gives me a momentary start, causing my heart to skip a beat.

 Seated in a half moon array is a stringed quintet, dressed in fine clothing fit for any noteworthy performance stage. It is difficult to ascertain the sex of the member of the group as their clothing seems to fade in and out, male to female from one member to the next. Their hair styles and faces to are ever changing in a sort of seamless flowing motion. I am confused as to if this is significant or a sign that it matters little to the lesson. Each has his/her music stand with sheets of music in front of them. In front of that is a solitary stand and I m prompted by Shadow in his voiceless manner to take my baton and and my appointed post.

 Unsure of my ability to take on the unfamiliar role I stand before my musical podium, raise my baton and begin, assuming the musicians have practiced the music and my plan being to adjust my awkwardness and inexperience accordingly. Abruptly the players begin. Expecting to be lavished with some moving composition of indescribable sweetness, I was applaud at what issued forth. It was the most discordant and near painful echoing sound I had ever experience! I continued in my play actor conductor mode for a few minutes, hoping and praying that this agonizing overture may magically find some semblance of harmony. Quickly I recognize that this is not going to happened and I wave my arms frantically in the air motioning for the players to cease. They stop as abruptly as they began.

 Looking down at the sheet music in front of me I found myself staring in wonder at a totally blank and unmarked page,, I pick it up and thumb through the remaining pages to find the same empty canvas.  Stepping over to the stands and music of the musicians I begin the same process with their music, each in turn.. Their pages reveal music, unlike my own pages, but I note that each has a different piece than the others. I look to them and they sit motionless but attentive and do not reveal any indication as to what they are thinking, seemingly unaffected by what has just transpired. I turn my gaze outward, scanning for Shadow turning 360 to no avail. Shadow appears to be gone. Confused I choose to return to my faithful stump, baton and “music” in hand. The players sit patiently as before, the only movement is the continuous smooth flowing of their dress and appearance as before.

I struggle to absorb what I have just experienced and sit up straight and close my eyes allowing my questions to echo about, awaiting an answer of some sort that rings true to explain to me the purpose of  the morning events. Holding tight to my new found touchstone, baton and “music” my mind reaches out to my love, my guru for just a little guidance. I immediately I sense a sigh from Shadow in his characteristic telepathic manner. He is encouraging me to not be so impatient and to sit a bit longer with it all. I feel a moment of being perturbed at the reply and suddenly every note of the previous discordant “concert” comes back into my awareness further adding to my distress. It seems impossible to even convey the depth of the soulful agony of hearing it a second time.

 The sounds fade. Quietly I sit and sit for a seemingly endless time awaiting revelation. Like the rising moon, quietly and silently the task and purpose is revealed. I open my eyes to the twilight of the setting sun.  With my new feeling of relief and purpose I return to the Meadow Quintet who remain patiently sitting and awaiting my direction. I assure them that I shall return with a score that can be played by all. I am unskilled at this task, but I know it is necessary and good. The why still eludes me but in time my lessons teach me about who I am and I remain thankful in my unsureness. Beyond this I have little to say. The players look to me with eyes that are not there and let me know they understand and will continue to wait. I turn to find the path back through the woods as I feel/see Shadow, my love, my guru smiling...