Friday, December 28, 2007

Mysterious Musician of Miracles

We sat silently enjoying the receding December afternoon as the shortest day of the year was fast approaching. Around us were countless paintings heavily influenced by the art of ancient natives of the Americas.

Our meeting was something of a quest, and the destination seemed cloaked in darkness and doubt. We sat in an intimate midtown dining room, virtually empty except for our presence. Although the location had seemed expedient and convenient, we began to discover that this restaurant Zuni was entwined with our exploration and quest, perhaps in its own a way a ritual for discovery.

Even silence seemed laced with meaning. The Zuni were a people deeply involved with Kokopelli, the flute player whose message was peace and prosperity. Kokopelli's melodies were the essence of mystery, the shaman of discovery, the soul of well being. During the meal, which was simple and elegant, we were flooded with the silence of Kokopelli's mystery. For me it was the sense that Kokopelli was with us and perhaps channelled through the person that sat across from me. Nothing was said about Kokopelli at that time, but the presence was unmistakable and palpable.

The destiny of the person across from me seemed linked to Kokopelli, and my understanding of this godlike messenger was transformed. As a shaman of fertility, the core of Kokopelli is the creative force. Kokopelli is the mystery of creation, the harbinger of the advancing reality, the passion of Time and Space erupting into the infinite abyss of Now. Kokopelli is reborn through each of us. We have only to listen. Music comes from the infinite silence, called into Being by Kokopelli. Now I understand why the opening of our first Internet2 performance reached across cyberspace and cybertime with the call of the flute from California, answered by the flute in New York as a new medium was born. Kokopelli was eloquently disclosed as the passion of our new creation. Now we are engaged in a similar mission of discovery where the new eludes us, just ahead, around and through the columns of Time, in the mystery of our undisclosed being.

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