Mozart Chronicles: You Fill Up My Senses, Pt. 2
Like a Sleepy Blue Ocean..
This type of reawakening of my natural psychic senses facilitated by Mozart was to continue during the whole time Mozart was with me. As I became more fascinated by him, I also became more fascinated by where he was from; Seram, Indonesia. I would lie awake at night wondering what that jungle was like but he would never talk about it. I decided to give him a soaking bath one evening and put him in the tub and filled it up to his hips with warm water. I pulled him over to the running faucet and gently dunked him. He did not resist. He walked around in the water and went back to the fawcet, every sense in his body was on high alert. Afterward I put him on a stool and used the hair dryer on 'cool ' setting to gently dry him. The whole adventure took nearly two hours. When he was settled back on top of his cage and settled in for a sleep, he sent me an extraordinary vision.
As I closed my eyes, I suddenly saw before me huge leaves of many types. Right away I knew he was showing me Seram, memories of which had been reawakened by his swim in the tub. Then came a butterfly and a strange looking beetle shaped like a helmet. There were scary owls and huge flying bats which looked like foxes, lots of bees and more bats. A little pink slug with many brightly glowing antennae (or eyestalks) seemed very important and wondrous as well and sat at the feet of a great, towering tree of unimaginable size. Then oddly, an airplane which was actually part woman flying along with her arms, really metal wings, spread wide. She seemed angelic. And then it ended. I knew these visions were of his departure from Seram and the things that had most impressed him about his home. This was not the first or the last vision he would send me. I was so happy he had finally showed me visions of his homeland, his beloved Seram and how he was spirited away on the metal wings of an airplane which he perceived as a great, feminine force of nature.
Like a Walk in the Rain...
I spent much time pondering this vision and especially the little pink slug with the many glowing antennae. It seemed there were dozens of antennae on this little gastropod but it was unlikely that such a creature really existed. Many years later I would realize this little pink slug was a symbol of Mozart himself and the multitudinous antennae each represented one year of his life in the rainforest, like candles on a birthday cake. I also noted that slugs are 'molluscans' and Mozart was a 'moluccan.'
I also couldn't help but be reminded by this diminutive pink creature in the vision of the great pink sea snail from the voyages of Dr. Dolittle. Slugs are descendants of snails and really are just snails who have lost their shell, just as birds have lost the shell of their egg. This pale pink character from the famous tales of the most famous animal communicator in history was reputed to be 70,000 years old and to speak the animal language most elusive and sought after by the good doctor. Mozart was telling me much with this symbol; that he was indeed aged, like the ancient pink sea snail, and that his language had yet to be decoded and would require much research and journeying (and also help from the fishes) which has proven true. Slugs, I also learned, are a powerful symbol of spirituality representing the ultimate tendency of movement from dark toward the light. Slugs are also most active after a shower! Their ability to climb trees from the base to the greatest heights represent the hidden spiritual powers of an adept on the Hermetic Path and this is very representative of Mozart's life. The more I learn about this symbol and the others from this vision, along with their literal meanings, the more I am struck with a wistful nostalgia and gratitude for having shared my life with this wizened wizard of Seram for a brief while.
"From the life to the light
From the dark of the night to the dawn
He is so in my heart
He is here he could never be gone
Though the singer is silent
There still is the truth of the song"
On the Wings of a Dream
John Denver
On a Clear Day You Can Smell Forever
That weekend I was putzing around in the bedroom taking care of things while Mozart preened himself in his cage. Suddenly I smelled a very foul odor and stood up straight in alarm. The odor was unmistakable, it was the smell of dead fish. It became overwhelming and as I looked over at Mozart, his eyes seemed to radiate a debilitating sorrow. I walked over to him and put my face up close to his. The smell was now even stronger and more pungent, choking me. The smell was coming from him! Wide-eyed I gawked at him. What on Earth could be wrong with him? His sad look grew even sadder and then he said in a pitiful little voice filled with incredible despair, "Pat Pat!" (a nickname all my birds call me).
Now I was really worried. A fear started to grip me about what might be wrong with my precious bird but just as my thoughts started to swirl through possibilities, the odor completely vanished. The room now was filled with the gentle breezes of springtime wafting through the open window. No trace of the previous stench of dead fish remained.
I was mystified but had no idea what to think about it. I made a mental note to myself to notice if something like this ever happened again (and it would). But the next morning, Monday morning, when I walked in the door at work, my supervisor came running down the hall shouting my name. I stopped and waited while she ran up to me, "Patti! Patti!" she called, "please help me! All the fish in my pond are dying! What should I do?" I knew instantly this was what Mozart had been trying to tell me. I referred this woman to an ichthyologist and spent the rest of the day in a daze as I contemplated this new sense of clairalience, or 'clear smelling.'
Another rusty doorknob had been turned and the doors of perception thrown wide open thanks to my fine feathered friend, my Merlin, my Mozart. What would he teach me next?
"And don't you know the life that lives
Within the silent hills
Is just as rich and beautiful
And just as unfulfilled
As man with all his intellect
His reason and his choice
Oh, who's to say the nightingale
Has any less a voice"
Children of the Universe
John Denver
This type of reawakening of my natural psychic senses facilitated by Mozart was to continue during the whole time Mozart was with me. As I became more fascinated by him, I also became more fascinated by where he was from; Seram, Indonesia. I would lie awake at night wondering what that jungle was like but he would never talk about it. I decided to give him a soaking bath one evening and put him in the tub and filled it up to his hips with warm water. I pulled him over to the running faucet and gently dunked him. He did not resist. He walked around in the water and went back to the fawcet, every sense in his body was on high alert. Afterward I put him on a stool and used the hair dryer on 'cool ' setting to gently dry him. The whole adventure took nearly two hours. When he was settled back on top of his cage and settled in for a sleep, he sent me an extraordinary vision.
As I closed my eyes, I suddenly saw before me huge leaves of many types. Right away I knew he was showing me Seram, memories of which had been reawakened by his swim in the tub. Then came a butterfly and a strange looking beetle shaped like a helmet. There were scary owls and huge flying bats which looked like foxes, lots of bees and more bats. A little pink slug with many brightly glowing antennae (or eyestalks) seemed very important and wondrous as well and sat at the feet of a great, towering tree of unimaginable size. Then oddly, an airplane which was actually part woman flying along with her arms, really metal wings, spread wide. She seemed angelic. And then it ended. I knew these visions were of his departure from Seram and the things that had most impressed him about his home. This was not the first or the last vision he would send me. I was so happy he had finally showed me visions of his homeland, his beloved Seram and how he was spirited away on the metal wings of an airplane which he perceived as a great, feminine force of nature.
Like a Walk in the Rain...
I spent much time pondering this vision and especially the little pink slug with the many glowing antennae. It seemed there were dozens of antennae on this little gastropod but it was unlikely that such a creature really existed. Many years later I would realize this little pink slug was a symbol of Mozart himself and the multitudinous antennae each represented one year of his life in the rainforest, like candles on a birthday cake. I also noted that slugs are 'molluscans' and Mozart was a 'moluccan.'
I also couldn't help but be reminded by this diminutive pink creature in the vision of the great pink sea snail from the voyages of Dr. Dolittle. Slugs are descendants of snails and really are just snails who have lost their shell, just as birds have lost the shell of their egg. This pale pink character from the famous tales of the most famous animal communicator in history was reputed to be 70,000 years old and to speak the animal language most elusive and sought after by the good doctor. Mozart was telling me much with this symbol; that he was indeed aged, like the ancient pink sea snail, and that his language had yet to be decoded and would require much research and journeying (and also help from the fishes) which has proven true. Slugs, I also learned, are a powerful symbol of spirituality representing the ultimate tendency of movement from dark toward the light. Slugs are also most active after a shower! Their ability to climb trees from the base to the greatest heights represent the hidden spiritual powers of an adept on the Hermetic Path and this is very representative of Mozart's life. The more I learn about this symbol and the others from this vision, along with their literal meanings, the more I am struck with a wistful nostalgia and gratitude for having shared my life with this wizened wizard of Seram for a brief while.
"From the life to the light
From the dark of the night to the dawn
He is so in my heart
He is here he could never be gone
Though the singer is silent
There still is the truth of the song"
On the Wings of a Dream
John Denver
On a Clear Day You Can Smell Forever
That weekend I was putzing around in the bedroom taking care of things while Mozart preened himself in his cage. Suddenly I smelled a very foul odor and stood up straight in alarm. The odor was unmistakable, it was the smell of dead fish. It became overwhelming and as I looked over at Mozart, his eyes seemed to radiate a debilitating sorrow. I walked over to him and put my face up close to his. The smell was now even stronger and more pungent, choking me. The smell was coming from him! Wide-eyed I gawked at him. What on Earth could be wrong with him? His sad look grew even sadder and then he said in a pitiful little voice filled with incredible despair, "Pat Pat!" (a nickname all my birds call me).
Now I was really worried. A fear started to grip me about what might be wrong with my precious bird but just as my thoughts started to swirl through possibilities, the odor completely vanished. The room now was filled with the gentle breezes of springtime wafting through the open window. No trace of the previous stench of dead fish remained.
I was mystified but had no idea what to think about it. I made a mental note to myself to notice if something like this ever happened again (and it would). But the next morning, Monday morning, when I walked in the door at work, my supervisor came running down the hall shouting my name. I stopped and waited while she ran up to me, "Patti! Patti!" she called, "please help me! All the fish in my pond are dying! What should I do?" I knew instantly this was what Mozart had been trying to tell me. I referred this woman to an ichthyologist and spent the rest of the day in a daze as I contemplated this new sense of clairalience, or 'clear smelling.'
Another rusty doorknob had been turned and the doors of perception thrown wide open thanks to my fine feathered friend, my Merlin, my Mozart. What would he teach me next?
"And don't you know the life that lives
Within the silent hills
Is just as rich and beautiful
And just as unfulfilled
As man with all his intellect
His reason and his choice
Oh, who's to say the nightingale
Has any less a voice"
Children of the Universe
John Denver
posted by Bright Eyes Sanctuary at
7:27 AM
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