I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Laurens van der Post. He was a writer and a mystic. There’s a story that he was staying with the Kalahari Bushmen in the desert when, one night, they asked him to listen to the stars singing. When he said he couldn’t hear them, the Bushmen didn’t believe him. They took him further from the campfire and again asked him whether he could now hear the stars singing. When he said he still couldn’t hear them, they were aghast. They treated him with pity, as if he was a sick man.
Shortly after reading about Laurens van der Post, I watched a TV programme on Aboriginal art where a female artist related how her father sang each day in the early morning to the stars and constellations as dawn’s light gradually saw the stars fade from view. She now paints the stars into her creations to bring peace to earth.
I’ve also seen an Aboriginal artist talk of hearing the sound of moonlight hitting the earth which to me sounds majestic and mysterious and magical and inspirational.
And I read a while back of an African tribe where the women, when a woman is pregnant, sit with her to start weaving the song of her child. They sing this song as the woman is in labour and her child is born. It is, if I remember correctly, sung at times of great importance during the child’s life and throughout adulthood: in puberty, at marriage and of course at the time of death and transition back to the world of Spirit. Another time the song is sung is if the person goes off track and commits a crime or an act against the community. Then the person is sat down in the centre of the community’s circle where the song is sung again to bring that person back to their soul’s song.
Before you start reading any further, and if possible, wait until night-time and go outside. Have a look at the night sky. Lie on the ground if you can. If not, lean way back and just feel the awe and amazement of looking at the blackness lit up by glittering stars too numerous to count.
Perhaps this perspective may not be so easily accessible for those of you who live in cities and for whom this miraculous view is blotted out by light pollution. Don’t give up. Perhaps you can find somewhere on the outskirts of your town or city a place where it’s dark enough to view the stellar diamonds of the sky. If not, find a picture or scout through YouTube to see if you can find an image.
Why do this? I hope you will have a few seconds or minutes or even hours of your life to open your heart to the splendour of the Universe and to feel the star stuff of which you are made and with which you resonate.
Imagine that you can hear the stars sing. Hear their galactic sparkles of notes merge into the song of the Universe. Listen to this song sinking into the earth and feel it sinking into your bones, your cells and your soul. For to look up at the night sky full of bright stars, shooting stars, planets and galaxies like the Milky Way is get a sense of magic and awe at the great universe within which we are privileged to exist. Ever since the first man or woman looked at the skies and saw patterns and movements, they – and us – have been drawn into a wider galaxy than their own world here on Mother Earth.
Worship the eternity of the universe. Because I, you, we are all a part of this cosmos – each of us a song with our very own, very individual, idiosyncratic notes making up our unique, soul-full melody.
There are unseen dimensions with limitless dimensions, unbound by time as we know it, resonating from time immemorial in the past to time immemorial in the future. Cosmic songlines are the very stuff which holds the Universe together, bound by the gossamer threads of love which permeate every atom of this galactic wonderland. And cosmic songlines are the heart and soul of each of us. Please feel free to join the dance which links you to yours. I hope my book helps you find the way in some small measure.