Infrathin: Symphonic moment between the conductor lifting the baton and the first notes of the symphony. Also the moment after the last note of the symphony and the audience applause.
Kim I don't think your observation is morbid having spent many years in my profession with the dying you correctly describe that last moment as infrathin. It is a sacred moment and the next moment in many cases indicate entering "a thin place". A powerful moment to share.
I spent my early years on the Isle of Bute in Scotland, and there gained some understanding of Celtic ways. I have experienced infrathin walking on the rocks and beaches, as my bare foot touches the ancient ground I feel the connection of my skin with the millions of years of the ocean washing over them, shaping them, and the history they hold within their weathered layers.
When you hold a pebble gently in your hand and close your eyes the sound of the waves and wind form a bond with history stored within the rock....
The breath of a new born baby as it brush past your cheek, the smell of pine as you walk through a forest, or the heady perfume of lavender as it blooms in the field. The fleeting memories that arise as you see, hear or touch treasures that suddenly remind you of another blessed place and moment.
Kim thank you so much for encouraging this adventure with edges, not only does it urge me to pay more attention to all that is part of my daily living, but it also stimulates my imagination.
As I've continued to consider infrathins this week I wanted to include smell and taste as well. To my list I add the edge space within an inhale that tickles a potential recognition and the resolution that yes in fact it is ___(fill in the blank)___ that you're smelling
I love that I now may have a word for something I've wanted to name - that moment when you are slipping your foot into a well worn slipper in the dark and the ball of your foot reaches a place in the well worn sheepskin lining and it sends a signal - Try again! this is the other slipper.
It's the moment when you realize your mind has wandered and you didn't hear the last 30 seconds of the podcast you're listening to.
The delicious moment when you realize you've fallen asleep and aren't reading your book anymore and just before you have to wake up to turn out the light.
The moment when the blue heron's wings flapping goes from awkward and ungainly to graceful and seemingly effortless.
This week, I was struck by that Infrathin moment just before cracking open a new book. Your mind is an open slate, waiting for the contents to be imprinted on you. Whether you like the book or not, you’re different after you’ve read it, introduced to characters or ideas you have t encountered before or at least not in the specific way of the author.
This morning I was by the lake watching the sunrise. At one point I listening to the call and answer of two birds in separate trees. Infrathin was the silence between the call and answer.
I was standing on the dock watching the sun break the horizon and slowly rise. As I turned and faced away from the sun I saw the night moon in a slow fall setting. I was experiencing the betweenness of day and night.
Morbid, maybe, but I was thinking the ultimate Infrathin is the moment right before death.
Infrathin: Symphonic moment between the conductor lifting the baton and the first notes of the symphony. Also the moment after the last note of the symphony and the audience applause.
Kim I don't think your observation is morbid having spent many years in my profession with the dying you correctly describe that last moment as infrathin. It is a sacred moment and the next moment in many cases indicate entering "a thin place". A powerful moment to share.
I spent my early years on the Isle of Bute in Scotland, and there gained some understanding of Celtic ways. I have experienced infrathin walking on the rocks and beaches, as my bare foot touches the ancient ground I feel the connection of my skin with the millions of years of the ocean washing over them, shaping them, and the history they hold within their weathered layers.
When you hold a pebble gently in your hand and close your eyes the sound of the waves and wind form a bond with history stored within the rock....
The breath of a new born baby as it brush past your cheek, the smell of pine as you walk through a forest, or the heady perfume of lavender as it blooms in the field. The fleeting memories that arise as you see, hear or touch treasures that suddenly remind you of another blessed place and moment.
Kim thank you so much for encouraging this adventure with edges, not only does it urge me to pay more attention to all that is part of my daily living, but it also stimulates my imagination.
As I've continued to consider infrathins this week I wanted to include smell and taste as well. To my list I add the edge space within an inhale that tickles a potential recognition and the resolution that yes in fact it is ___(fill in the blank)___ that you're smelling
I love that I now may have a word for something I've wanted to name - that moment when you are slipping your foot into a well worn slipper in the dark and the ball of your foot reaches a place in the well worn sheepskin lining and it sends a signal - Try again! this is the other slipper.
It's the moment when you realize your mind has wandered and you didn't hear the last 30 seconds of the podcast you're listening to.
The delicious moment when you realize you've fallen asleep and aren't reading your book anymore and just before you have to wake up to turn out the light.
The moment when the blue heron's wings flapping goes from awkward and ungainly to graceful and seemingly effortless.
This week, I was struck by that Infrathin moment just before cracking open a new book. Your mind is an open slate, waiting for the contents to be imprinted on you. Whether you like the book or not, you’re different after you’ve read it, introduced to characters or ideas you have t encountered before or at least not in the specific way of the author.
This morning I was by the lake watching the sunrise. At one point I listening to the call and answer of two birds in separate trees. Infrathin was the silence between the call and answer.
I was standing on the dock watching the sun break the horizon and slowly rise. As I turned and faced away from the sun I saw the night moon in a slow fall setting. I was experiencing the betweenness of day and night.