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Tonal Raiment
Jean Hammond: Most everyone knows Hans Christian Andersen's tale "The Emperor's New Suit," which goes like this:
Once upon a time there was a vain Emperor who cared for nothing except his wardrobe, and spent all his money on new clothes. One day two swindlers came to his city and conned people into believing that they were exceptional weavers able to make the finest cloth possible, and that in addition to the amazingly beautiful patterns and colors, the clothes they made were invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office or just hopelessly and unpardonably stupid. The Emperor ordered a suit made of this cloth, thinking, "If I were to be dressed in such a suit I should be able to find out which men in my empire were unfit for their places, and I could distinguish the clever from the stupid." After being paid handsomely, the swindlers feigned being busy tailoring his suit by waving scissors in the air, sewing with needles without thread, and studiously pretending to be busy weaving at a wooden frame. When the Emperor sent a minister and a courtier to check on the progress, they feigned admiring something tangible (even though they acknowledged silently to themselves that there was nothing there), and gave a good report to the Emperor out of fear of not wanting to appear unfit for their offices or stupid. When the suit was "finished," the swindlers helped the Emperor undress, and then in mime "dressed" him in the new suit, which he then "wore" in a procession before his people. All the members of his court and his subjects admired his new suit. Nobody wanted to admit that they saw nothing, not wanting to appear to be unfit for office or stupid. In the reverent quiet of the crowd as the Emperor passed by, a child's voice piped up, "The Emperor has no clothes!" As this reality then came home to everyone, the crowd began to cry, "He has nothing on!" Now suspecting this was true, the Emperor cringed inside and continued in the procession as proudly as possible.
I recently attended a concert by a world-class choir, and a special feature on the program was the premiere of a new choral work by a well-known composer. For this piece the singers and instrumentalists were innovatively placed in a semi-circle on the large stage, the conductor appeared, and after a hushed silence the new work was unveiled.
During the first few minutes of discordant and disruptive sounds, I seriously wondered if they were all just warming up individually as some sort of unusual beginning, but soon realized this was not so because the conductor was turning pages.
As the "music" wore on, I began trying to escape it by scrutinizing the beautiful ornate art deco décor in the theatre, examining the structure of the chandeliers, thinking about the many people who had performed there over decades, and hoped that I had punched in enough time on our parking ticket for the evening. I counted the number of women singers that had blond hair, and then began guessing everyone's age!
I reentered the noisescape in between my musings to consciously let my ears hear what was going on, and the piece resolved into a listenable mode here and there, albeit fleetingly. At the welcome conclusion, its merit was that it was an accurate depiction of the state of our outer world now-fractured! It was like listening to a typical newscast-reports about the latest environmental disaster, murder, statistics on unemployment, war, Ponzi scheme-interspersed with the occasional shaft of light reporting on such items as what an extraordinary teacher accomplished, a creative recycling program, or a story such as this recent local one: Brisco, a very valuable Belgian Malinois "K-9 cop" in Fort Collins, suddenly became very ill, and with the quick insightful help of local vets, miraculously survived and is back on his beat. Many citizens contributed to his medical costs, including a woman who drove to the animal hospital and wrote a check for $1,000 toward Brisco's care.
As a standing ovation got going at the end of the piece, I initially just sat there for a few moments before rising to leave and thought, "But folks, the Emperor has no clothes here!" I enjoy many kinds of music, so my assessment was not based on personal taste. And I will grant the fact that new forms in whatever field are not always comfortable or acceptable initially when truly new ground is being broken as Spirit brings forth the new. This was not that. It was just plain awful. Period. No clothes!
Juxtaposing this with a different experience as an audience member, I recently attended a performance of Beethoven's Symphony #9, known as The Choral Symphony. This work was true innovation in his day-he added a fourth movement that includes soloists and a mass choir singing Ode to Joy by the German poet Friedrich Schiller, in which the ideal of unity and the brotherhood of all humanity is celebrated. This work, recognizable throughout the world, was somehow able to be "heard" by Beethoven from within the confines of his deafness, and land on paper.
People are always moved by this symphony as it moves into the explosion of power and ecstasy released through the spirit of Ode to Joy, calling to remembrance the true stature of humanity. As the music gained momentum that evening, resounding through the large orchestra and 200 voices, I became aware of wet eyes and the liberal use of Kleenex all around me. In the past I too have experienced wet eyes and have been glad to have a tissue in my pocket.
On this occasion I had the new experience of not being personally moved. Rather, I was one with the tsunami of sound pouring forth unrelentingly-one with the sonic tidal wave vibrationally moving human nature out of the way, drowning it in the moment, and replacing it with a declaration of something of the atmosphere of the true Spirit of Man. The impulse to stand up during the outpouring was very strong, and I did so vibrationally. Being able to personally "say" what this music expresses was very different to decades of being "moved" by it.
We have described the creative process as: response, attraction, union, unified radiation. One of our central responsibilities on earth now is to provide unified radiation through our encounters with forms of spiritual expression wherever they appear.
Stepping out into the cool night amidst some of the still nose-blowing audience, I looked up at the stars and was so thankful to now know unified radiation with the Spirit of the choral form of Ode to Joy that continues to clothe something of the true stature of Man, and therefore the Truth. Such raiment, however incomplete, is precious wherever it is found in this fallen world.
I recently viewed an exhibit of original drawings by Leonardo da Vinci that depict human anatomy. Created 500 years ago, they are remarkable. His drawing of the curvature of the spine (thought to be straight up until then) is still state-of-the-art and used in medical schools today. We were given magnifying glasses through which to examine his notebook pages expertly displayed on pedestals, along with English translations of his astute observations about the human body.
At one point I enjoyed examining people peering through their magnifying glasses, and observed many as they went up to a page and stood transfixed before the tangible presence of a genius, seeking connection somehow beyond the drawings themselves, with the man who was this artist and inventor who thought out-of-the-box way ahead of his time.
The setting and atmosphere of the exhibit clothed the exquisite contents, and in large print on a wall was this quote from Leonardo's writings: "If this composition [these drawings] appears to you a marvelous piece of work, you should regard this as nothing compared to the soul that dwells within that architecture, and truly whatever that may be, it is a thing divine." The Truth was up there for all to see and have the opportunity to agree with it!
Conversely, an adjacent exhibit (that visitors had to walk through on the way out) was advertized as being leading edge art and very important. It had harsh lighting and showed extremely distorted images of the human body, with jangled body parts writhing around horrifically on canvases. Perhaps political statements were being made, but the images were not anything to be encountered for very long. Walking from the precise anatomical drawings into this exhibit was akin to walking from a place of pristine focus into the unconscious underworld of the unholy ghost. The Emperor had no clothes on in there!
How do we know what is of Truth and what is not? Discernment is via the Tone. As the Tone becomes increasingly resident in us, our ability to accurately read patterns increases. Spiritual things and all other things in this world are spiritually discerned-and spiritual expression cannot be duped!
As we know, there are various levels and kinds of clothing-from overt outer form to invisible clothing that is vibrationally perceived. Alan has referred to the outer incomplete, partial world we live in. This can be reflected in expressions partially clothed with true raiment. An amusing example is an opera singer I recently heard performing "In the Still of the Night" in a manner that did not match the sensitive quality of the lyrics. "In the still of the night, as I gaze from my window, at the moon in its flight, my thoughts all stray to you…" was being shouted instead of tenderly imparted. There were the right clothes to convey a beautiful song in the form of a fine orchestra and a good voice, but the singer wore the wrong outfit!
Sometimes there is completely wrong clothing. A person could be expensively, even beautifully dressed, but emit an atmosphere of filth, vibrationally detectable. And sometimes we come upon beautiful clothing that does convey something of the Truth, such as these examples:
This year Alan and I visited a large home built in 1909, designed primarily but not exclusively as a family home. The elegant entrance hall, library, ballroom, and all the rooms, had exquisite proportion, as did the house as a whole and the gardens. It was very easy to feel at home there, and the largeness did not feel at all unmanageable. This had to do with the accuracy of the architecture and furnishings, giving right clothing to the spaces intended for the multifaceted purposes of the home.
I recently heard a group of visiting Chinese women voice students give a concert. Each one appeared dressed to the nines in gorgeous silk gowns, beautiful jewelry and elaborate hairdos. This would have been a distracting over-the-top visual, had the quality of their voices not eclipsed the beauty of their outer appearances. The outer packaging simply gave a true stage setting for their artistry.
I will always remember sitting at a beautifully set dinner table, at which one of the guests was an older lady of very modest means who was simply dressed. The way she was present at her place setting of silver and china and her manner in relating to others at the table, indicated that she was the person in the grouping who truly embodied the quality of the setting and the nature of the occasion.
I recently saw a picture of a woman cooking a meal for her family in her little one-room shack in a squalid slum. Her dignity and regal presence radiated palpably off the page, and clothed the truth of who she was in the midst of those circumstances.
Seeing the Truth clothed at various levels is a marvelous thing!
In the Fifa World Cup currently underway in the host country South Africa, we see soccer teams playing at a high level, and I am impressed with the passion exhibited in the extreme desire to win. That energy is an aspect of the Spirit of Truth, which always opens the way for new levels of expertise. Our central passion is to constantly intensify agreement with the Truth, which always engenders finer levels of spiritual expression-and always wins!
In Andersen's tale, after the crowd heard the child speak the truth, their integrity was challenged. Knowing deep down all along that the Emperor obviously had no clothes on, they then outwardly agreed with the small voice. In this largely unreal outer world we have the constant opportunity to speak and embody the Truth. This may be audible-sometimes there are situations where something can be said directly. Or while watching TV there can be opportunity to address the unreal and say out loud in radiation relative to what is on the screen, "The Emperor has no clothes there."
But more often than not, "speaking" the Truth is probably going to be inaudible to the human ear and vibrational most of the time. Audible or inaudible, a core part our job is to always ask, "What is the Truth?" Being unafraid to ask that, and state the Truth audibly or inaudibly with no beating around the bush is so needed in our world of increasing shadows, subterfuge, distractions, and slight of hand in every direction. If no one is present to do this, "the hypnotic state of the unreal world" as Uranda called it, filled with swindlers and con artists, will continue to hold sway.
What is untrue and unreal needs to fall away. As we intensify the Truth now, the presence of the true heaven waiting to be clothed is intensified and given room to appear. It has been said that the Spirit of Truth brings all things to remembrance-that's heavenly things! There may be reaction to the voice of Truth, but in spiritual expression that can be handled. Our service involves giving people the opportunity to agree with the Truth, and agreement with the Truth consciously or unconsciously always intensifies the Light. Good grief, heaven only knows this world needs Light!
It is well to remember that as an individual we are not just a childlike lone voice that tentatively appears out of a crowd. We are backed by the power and the Truth focused by all the hosts of heaven-that's a large Voice! In the midst of the standing ovation maybe someone who gave in to the crowd's mentality in the moment and stood clapping, "heard" me-and as they drove home admitted the truth of what they really knew deep down: the new composition wasn't really music at all.
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Written in June, 2010
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