Not one structure in my body is the same as it was when I began typing this sentence. Not my intestines, not my right thigh bone (femur). Because it’s literally impossible to go back to the way things exactly were. So why’s it so hard to do things differently?
Your phalanges are the bones of your fingers. The term is derived from Latin, referring to a ‘row of soldiers.’ This row can be construed as either the 3 phalangeal bones of each finger (except for your thumb, which only has 2...that’s partly why it’s shorter), or the row of fingers created by all your phalanges.
Somehow I’m only able to remember two jokes: 1) about Sam Clam & Fred the Lobster (which is well beyond and below the scope of this newsletter), and 2) the above [attributed here], which is a nerdy joke referencing Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, which says that the more precisely a particle’s position is known, the less precisely its momentum is known, and vice versa.
So, here we are at the end of the summer (if you live in the Northern Hemisphere), a time when the crops have bloomed and are en route to harvest. The thing about any good harvest is that the wheat is separated from the chaff, i.e. you keep the good, usable stuff and discard the rest.
So we continue to explore what it means to be bodies without walls. Meaning, the energy-frequency-field structure you are doesn’t stop at your skin. Kind of like a flame, whose glow appears condensed at the candle’s wick… but then radiates into a halo of light…and thereafter dissipates slowly, without a hard-and-fast end.
Recently, for whatever reason, I’ve been thinking about ‘receiving.’ Like, REALLY receiving.
Sure, I’ve received stuff all my life: mail, food deliveries, birthday presents, compliments, big lessons that come from big ass-kickings, etc. But I’m starting to witness a realm of receiving in which the gift is like a whisper. It is not glaringly obvious at the surface; you have to listen closely to even get that it’s there, let alone a gift.
Or not. Because if it were still for more than about 5 minutes, you’d be dead. But there are probably times that you wish your heart were more still than it was…like on a roller coaster ride, or when someone provokes your anger, or just before giving a big presentation.
A propos to last month’s newsletter: Listen to the sound of the Milky Way rotating. You know, the galaxy you/me/we are in right now. For the composition, astronomers transformed astronomical data about galactic gases into musical notes. Apparently, our galaxy grooves to upbeat jazz/blues 🙂
In last month’s newsletter, we discussed how energy means different things to different people. Well, the same goes for light. But instead of reviewing the myriad ways in which you hear the word “light”—referencing everything from ceiling fixtures to the divinity within—I just want to skip to the part where you ARE light.
According to a recent study published in Trends in Plant Science, your houseplants have eyes. So does the cabbage you ate for dinner. Well, technically they are very basic “eyespots,” but either way what we’re talking about is visionary vegetation. At first glance, the idea seems a bit odd. And yet, it’s not new to the science arena. It’s an idea that has been proposed by many different researchers, even dating as far back as 1907.
In the past couple of decades, classical music has been used as a deterrent against loitering (in the parking lot at 7-Elevens), punishment for mis-behaving (at a school in Derby, England) and a tool for relaxation (at the Port Authority in New York City). The same song used for a variety of purposes. How so? Maybe it has to do with the song’s vibe in relationship to yours.