OM

Spontaneously, OM came through me.

My voice was cracking, it didn’t sound pretty and I felt out of breath. As I sounded MMMMMM my chest was vibrating inside and out.

It was a chilly November day, on a solitary island in Croatia.  Almost everything had closed  for the winter.  Getting off the boat in Sipan, the sky was bright blue and the leaves had turned a golden brown and orange hue. Small, weather-beaten boats were tied up along the banks. The stone aged buildings with their faded terra-cotta tiled roofs sat desolate, signalling the end of tourism time.

The day became a walking meditation. I followed a small brown sign with arrows that read CHURCH and MONASTERY pointing up a quiet, winding road. Rhythmically walking I noticed the lush vegetation all around. Meadows with giant pine, cypress and palm trees stretching out on my left. To my right the sun illuminated the green, red and sandstone shades of the sprawling coastal mountains. Turning off the road I climbed up a crud, stone path to a tiny church on the hill.

And sat quietly continuing my “I” meditation.

Time seemed insignificant. I had a sense of something familiar around me. I felt completely alone yet not lonely. There were no thoughts about someone hearing me or if other people were around. Sun beams burst through the cloud covered mountains on the west, as the sun was falling below the horizon.  Perched on a jagged rock in front of the church my breath was winded as the crisp air filled my lungs and the vibration rang through me.

AAA—UUU—MMMMMM began in my body as deep down as it could reach and my mouth changed shape slightly as it rose up through my chest. As my lips were closing the vibration was moving along with the sound and …MMMMMM was buzzing in harmony with everything around. The mountain range, the olive groves and the trees seemed brighter and more vivid. The wind was whistling softly with me as the sun was going down. I felt the mountain range would wrap itself around me like a warm winter shawl. Feeling a presence and vibration of HOME more than of OM. As if I had come home.

I can’t remember how many times we all riffed in harmony. The wind, the birds, the leaves on the trees still playing their evening song as I made my way down.  Back to the battered boats on the shore and the old convenience store. I sat quietly again, hearing the soft murmurings of the crystal clear waves washing up on the shore.  Waxing and waning fluidly and whispering to me of secrets they could share that I would adore. Listening momentarily from inside myself, I felt there was nothing more to explore.

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