Gloam

Here is "Gloam," a beautiful short film by We Are The Forest.

 

I tip my hat to The Wild Hunt for hipping me to this work of art.

Magic Moment: As I drove back to the office after lunch, a dandelion seed floated into my car via the passenger side window. It dreamily flitted about the interior of my car, then made a slow pass in front of my face. After that final pass, this visitor from the true world continued its journey out the driver side window.

I thank that little traveler; 'twas a rare and wondrous gift I received.

Photo from Dandelions - A Nutritious Edible Weed

Memory is a Funny Thing

My lunchtime excursion today took me through a residential area where I had to wait for a small construction vehicle to clear the road. As I sat there, my car the last in a row of similarly waiting cars, I just watched the wind blow leaves across the street and sidewalk. Somehow that sight reminded me of elementary school, specifically the elementary school library. I almost felt as though I were sitting in that library again. I'm not sure why that is -- it's not as though I can recall a library trip that had me sitting close enough to the windows that I could watch a similar scene. But we are in Autumn, and I did spend a fair bit of my time window-gazing in my youth, and the street across from the school did feature a row of homes.

Memory is a funny thing.

Image courtesy of the web. 

Photo by Suzanne Tucker

1938: The Things We Miss

Note: This is a post I started in May of 2008 but never finished. I found it this morning when I was looking for a draft of my next Friday 80s Flashback. It is one of several posts just sitting in an electronic abyss. Over the next week or two, I will try to complete as many as I can.

---

On a Saturday morning in May of 2008, I arose early to drive my Forester to the Subaru dealer. It's a pretty short drive; the dealership is just beyond my town's borders. I typically take advantage of their shuttle service -- I drop off the car, they take me back home, they call me with details regarding my vehicle's service, and finally they pick me up after they finish the job -- But the shuttle is not available on weekends.

No worries. As I mentioned, it's a short drive. So I figured walking back and forth wouldn't be all that difficult. Besides, I lucked out with a glorious, Spring day. Perfect for walking. So, after I dropped off the car, I made my way home from the dealership.

My pace was slow, almost meandering. I had the whole day before me with no need to race home. I listened to birds. I took in the gentle breeze. I paid attention to homes and yards that would normally fall away in my peripheral vision as I focused on the road ahead.

And then I came to a full stop when I saw this in the concrete walk (also available on my Flickr page):

To be completely accurate, I would have to post the image upside down. But that's not the point.

I was completely enamored with this small token in concrete. What did that symbol mean? What happened in 1938? How are the symbol and this date connected? It took all my self-control to not walk up to the house connected to this walk, knock on the door, and ask if anyone there knew what the message of their front walk was. After all, it was kind of early for someone to receive such questions from a complete stranger.

I might never know concretely the message of  this sidewalk. But here is something I do know: I had been driving past this parchment-in-pavement for several years and never once had any inkling that it was there, that it was waiting for a brief moment of discovery.

What else am I missing -- are we all missing -- as we rush about in our machines with our to-lists, schedules, and agendas?

Autumn Equinox

On Wednesday evening, I conducted a brief solo ritual to honor the passing of Summer and welcome the new season to come. I offered an apple pastry as well as milk and honey to the land spirits. I raised the horn to the Alfar and the Disr. I thanked Sunna for the blessings of Summer, gave thanks for bounty, and asked Ullr and Skadi to guard us well in the coming winter months. Due to rain showers, there was no view of the Harvest Moon for me. But I was blessed with a wonderful light(ning) show -- Hail Thor!

Brief Encounter, A Holiday Story [Redux]

Image ©Lindwa | Dreamstime.com
Christmas Lamppost Background Photo

On Christmas Eve of 2007, I posted a holiday story I had originally written in 1994. The story was my first experiment in 2nd person narration -- I really wanted you, the reader, to feel the story was directly happening to you.

The version that was posted in 2007, and reappears here, is almost exactly as I originally penned it. I hope all those who visit my humble blog will appreciate it on some level. It would be great if it helped rekindle your own joy for this season. Feel free to share the story as long as you respect my copyright. Merry Holy Days!

Brief Encounter 

Not even close. It’s December 13, almost 7pm, and you're not even close to getting done. But then, holiday preparations are never truly over, are they? The lights and the decorations. The tree, the trimmings. The food, the drink. And the gifts. Oh, Gods! the gifts... "If I bump into one more shopper or excited child, or if I have to speak to just one more merchant, I may..." But you never finish the thought. You let it go in favor of something more practical: "I have to get out of here." 

You make your way through the sea of patrons, dodging and weaving, participating in some complex and ultimately energy-sapping dance. It takes some effort to reach the main doors, but you smile with pride: Didn’t drop a single package. Exiting into the night, you feel a rush of crisp air hurry to your face. Snow tonight? Doubtful, but anything is possible. 

Anything, perhaps, save what happens next.

My Thoughts on the Path

[The original version of this essay was submitted to my mentor in the Clergy Program. This version has slight changes to make it work as a blog post.]

My thoughts on the path.

I could have gone with a title like "This I Believe" or "How I See Asatru" or any other of 100 phrases that incorporate some form of belief/believe and Asatru. But Asatru is only one way to describe Germanic Reconstruction. Some might argue that that "Asatru" as a term is better suited to to the reconstruction going on in Scandinavian states, particularly Iceland, and that it is less than ideal as a descriptor of Germanic spiritualities. I'm not going into those arguments at this time. And belief can be a dangerous thing. The Abrahamic faiths have beliefs, beliefs that preclude all others, beliefs that motivate some toward violence, beliefs that are not up for debate. And all those beliefs are grounded in (dictated by?) a "holy" book of some sort. Hence ... "my thoughts on the path."

Now, I will admit I was in one of those Abrahamic camps for many years. Given where and when I was born, it's not at all surprising that I bought into the culture surrounding me. The only alternatives were differing flavors of Christianity. Sure there was a minor exposure to Judaism -- more of a token nod, if you will -- but that's to be expected. The point I am trying to make here is that there was a predominantly Judeo-Christian scene during my formative years. I had no contact whatsoever with Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, etc. Not until my high school years, but even then it was sparse.

My interest in (and modest aptitude for) science combined with what I had seen of several varieties of Christian expression led me to seriously doubt all the "one way" rhetoric that I had been exposed to ("One way? You cannot even agree on what that one way is!"). My Judeo-Christian foundation further cracked when I explored Taoism and Buddhism, which I started exploring during my study and practice of Okinawa Kenpo Karate-Kobudo (now called Ryukyu hon Kenpo Kobujitsu). As an aside, I must say I find comfortable parallels between Taoism and Heathenry, but not nearly so in Buddhism (though its mental discipline and philosophy are quite interesting).

Around this time I ejected Jesus as a deity in my life, but I still held to some concept of a generalized, amorphous "God" figure -- sort of a variable that could be filled with one's personal experience/concept of divinity. For a while, I even espoused the “All the gods are one god” kind of shtick, but I now seriously doubt I ever truly believed it.

Why do I bring all of that up here?

I don’t believe (oh no, there’s that word again) that spirituality exists in a vacuum. I can choose to reject a concept or even an experience, but I cannot remove its effect upon me. And each experience I have is affected by my earlier experiences in some shape or form. Not all experiences have direct causal affects on later ones; nor are all effects equal in application. Not too long ago, I told someone, “There is no God, and yet there is. There are no Gods; yet here they all are!” I would claim this statement as rather a wonderful pluralistic/polytheistic stance.

I am at this point because of how I see the process of experiencing the divine. The human brain, in my opinion, cannot fully comprehend/process/grasp/etc. the fullness of divinity. We can only catch a glimpse of it through the religious experience – those seemingly rare moments of transcendence that link a person to the greater mystery. This glimpse, or partial view, is then further filtered through the individual’s language, social class, culture, etc. And when that individual tries to share the experience with another, it must once again go through his filters and then be processed through a similar – though not necessarily identical – set of filters of his audience (be it one or several people). To me the development of dogma came about as a means of sharing religious experience or at least pointing the way to having one’s own experience. Rigid dogma, then, is the result of the sharing becoming more important than the actual experience.

This brings to my personal conclusion that all faiths (or spiritual paths) are simply means of experiencing divinity in this world. All faiths are, in one way or another, mere symbols in order to effectively communicate and share divine experiences. But they are not THE divine, which remain somewhat beyond our full comprehension -- at least while we remain in this world of forms.

I do not mean to give the impression that there is something wrong with our symbols. This could not be further from my heart. As human beings, we crave symbols and ritual because we need something tangible to help us relate to the intangible. We feel the need to DO something. That's where we are, and where we have come from.

And please note: I did not say that all faiths are EQUAL or the SAME. Nor do I say they are all EQUALLY TRUE. They are all, in their own ways, simply VALID. If a path works for an individual, then it is valid.

As I grow in my understanding of the ways of my pre-Christian ancestors, I find that the path(s) they blazed are the most practical for me. Polytheism – which did not exist until monotheism declared to be so – was simply the natural way of things. It is a way of seeing the world as it is, and accepting it, instead of trying to force little thing to comply with a rigid, and ultimately artificial, view of “why” things are they way they are. Granted, we cannot go back and practice exactly as our ancestors did; we need to make the faith relevant for the time in which we live. This is natural. The religion revealed by our source materials, our lore, is an imperfect snapshot (mostly taken by outside observers, if you will). While helpful, this snapshot does nothing to help us understand how the religion developed to that point. And it does less than nothing to tell us how it might have continued to progress to the present day. We can, however, extrapolate. Carefully. And this is the exact mission of reconstruction.

Mr. Tolkien's Birthday and Kuhns Corner Books

I meant to post this on Monday, January 5 -- and that is when I started it -- but the whole thing got lost in the shuffle. I'm posting it now before I forget all about it again. Almost two weeks ago, I had a chance to visit a new independent bookstore near my home. Kuhns Corner Books (http://www.kuhnscornerbooks.com/) opened, appropriately enough, on the corner of West Walnut and South 5th Streets in Perkasie, PA. I think it opened around the middle of 2008, but it could have happened much earlier. I just know I've been driving past it for a little while now. But on January 3rd, while bringing Milo and Otis back from their annual visit to the vet, Mrs. Brainwise and I passed Kuhns and I noticed that it was open. So I decided to visit it. But first I had to complete the return trip for the thoroughly traumatized kitties. Oh, how they love to travel, especially when it involves being poked and prodded and examined. After we got home and did our best to pacify the boys a bit, I asked if there was enough time before our next appointment (visiting Mrs. Brainwise's mother in Bethlehem, and then having dinner with her friends in Easton). The window was plenty wide enough, and there was even time on the clock to hit the local Post Office. So I bundled up, gathered my keys, envelopes, and iPod, and hit the road ... walking. Yes, the new bookstore is within walking distance from my home. How cool is that? Anyway, the store is great. It's small, rather quaint I would say. They sell new and used books, but don't expect a great deal of inventory -- only one or two copies per title. And it's the only bookstore I've yet seen with a kitchenette dividing the front showcase area from the back. I did mention this is an independent bookstore, right? So, I'm wandering around, checking out what they have and soaking up the atmosphere. It was a perfect day for taking a break in a bookstore -- bright and sunny, but cold and blustery. Crazy windy day. I made mental notes regarding a few of the books I found, but nothing really stood out as a potential purchase. Well, nothing stood out until I came across a used copy of Master of Middle Earth: The Fiction of J.R.R. Tolkien by Paul H. Kocher. First edition softcover, 1972, good condition: Not exactly rare, but still pretty cool. It's a book that has been on my "to read" list for some time. And I want to support the local indie bookstore scene. So I purchased it and walked home. Upon arrival, I had just enough time to get some lunch and load up the car before we headed up to Bethlehem for the Mom-in-law and friends visits. I didn't have another thought about my new copy of Master of Middle Earth. That is, until the following Monday. January 5. Midway through the morning, I took one of my Google News breaks -- or maybe I was checking my email and I saw a Google Alert -- and I saw a story or two about Tolkien and his recent birthday. And then it hits me. I bought my book about Tolkien's writing on his birthday. On 116th anniversary of J.R.R. Tolkien's birth, I purchased a book that was published about a year before his death. What a great way to "celebrate" one of my favorite writers! No fanfare. Nothing ostentatious. Just a quiet afternoon in a small bookstore. Let's hear it for the indies!

 500 West Walnut Street | Perkasie, PA 18944 | 215-258-2515

Update (8/13/2011): This update is more than a tad overdue, but I must point out that (misfortune of misfortunes) Kuhns Corner Books closed down within the last year or so. Well, they've closed down the physical location. They seem to be operating solely as an online book source now.

Some "Post" Samhain Writings

I've been a bit quiet here, and I do apologize for not keeping up with the blog. In lieu of writing some updates of my own, I point you to two collections of posts over at MetaPagan. First up, chronologically that is, would be a lovely set of Samhain poetry and traditions collected from across the web and MetaPagan contributors. Second, a sampling of Samhain stories. These stories are a welcome respite from the "usual annual glut of mainstream news stories that crop up this time of year". Enjoy!

Ben's Methodology for the Mature Spiritual Seeker

An associate of mine, Ben Dench, is working on what he calls A Methodology for the Mature Spiritual Seeker. He is, in my estimation, a remarkable young man. And, by training/education, he is a philosopher. I think that much may be obvious in the methodology he espouses. Regarding his methodology, which is the point of this post, I feel he has made a good start of it, particularly because the process starts with experience. But it also seems to me that there is only one other experiential component of the methodology, and only partially at that. Since his original posting, I have seen no dialogue on the topic. Yet I think it is worthy of some discussion, so I have taken the liberty of posting the methodology here. I hope my few readers will take the time to look at this, and perhaps even post a note or two. I will post some further thoughts on Ben's methodology at a later time. For now I want to point out that this is important work. In an increasingly secular -- even post-Christian -- society, what is a spiritual seeker to do? Those of us in Pagan/Heathen traditions can look to the past for inspiration and guidance, but whatever is found there still has to be brought to the present and made relevant today. I know I do. But what do you say? And can this methodology be of any help? Without further ado, I give to you Ben Dench's six-step approach:

A Methodology for the Mature Spiritual Seeker 

1. Actively seek out and have your own direct spiritual experiences. Testimony is not sufficient for believing in paranormal phenomena. Direct experience is. 

2. Think critically about the experiences you have had. What can you legitimately conclude from experience X? To what extent might you be reading into your experience based on your own religious / cultural preconceptions? 

3. Form your own tentative conclusions. Don't get too attached to any one conception about the way things are. Remain open to revising your ideas about reality based on new information. 

4. Dialogue with others and rigorously test your hypotheses. If there are other interpretations of your experience, listen to them. See what experiments you could do and what background information you could find to determine which explanation best fits the reality of the situation. 

5. Seek to integrate all areas of objective knowledge into a coherent narrative. To what extent does our knowledge from other areas of study (anthropology, psychology, biology, history, literary criticism, etc.) support or oppose your interpretation of reality? 

6. Repeat. This is a continuing process. Always be open to new experiences and to revising your beliefs based on new information.

You can dialogue with Ben over at his own blog, The Philosophy of Ben Dench (http://bendench.blogspot.com/).

Book Review | Last Child in the Woods

[Also posted to Amazon.com] This may very well be one of the most important books I have read this year ... or the past few years. I purchased "Last Child in the Woods" right after I heard Richard Louv interviewed on a local radio program. I was so moved by his message and impressed with the breadth of his knowledge and depth of experience. And it all translates well in the book. "Last Child..." feels more like a conversation a text. It's just that comfortable and open. Yet it very strikingly paints a picture of what is currently happening to children and our world as well as what may yet happen if nothing is done to reverse "nature deficit disorder". But, more importantly, there are also bright examples of hope and suggestions as to what we can do, as individuals and in larger groups, to cultivate appreciation of -- and cooperation with -- the natural world. Anyone who wants to awaken a love of nature in their kids, or simply deepen their own nature walk, should give this inspiring book a chance.

"The Secret" in Less Than 5 Minutes

Scoped at Nemeton: Mmmmm...antique sausage grinder... (And watch out for that red sports car!)

Best ... Excuse ... Ever!

Via Silver Horse Journal: Next time you’re running late The next time you find yourself running behind, and you feel the need to excuse yourself, try this one posed by a customer at Little Mysteries Books:

"I'm running behind schedule because the aliens hadn’t set my watch correctly when they abducted me."

image credit: Wired

Good luck with that one!

Last Night's Lunar Eclipse

photo credit: Bill Funcheon

I witnessed the lunar eclipse last night. It was amazing. I took a few photos, but I don't think anything compares with the images one of my work colleagues was able to snag. I am sharing one of my favorite views and I'll write more about the experience later.

Sailing?

I don't often remember my dreams. 

Let me be more accurate about this: I don't seem to retain my dreams beyond the first 30 minutes of waking. But today is different. I can still see some of last night's images in my mind's eye, still hear something of the voices still echoes. It was about sailing. You probably guessed that after reading this entry's title and the first paragraph. But what might not be clear is what kind of sailing was featured while I engaged in R.E.M. sleep. Actually, it's not really all that clear to me either. But I'll try to get a few notes down before they join my other dream memories in evaporation. 

 It seemed like small boat sailing was in progress. When I say "small boat sailing", I am drawing on some experience from my Scouting days, specifically a week at Camp Mountain Run learning how to sail the one or two man vessels we had at the boating lake. Were the boats in my dream the same as the ones from my past? I would have to say ... yes and no. There were several boats, and many boaters. And a number of the boats resembled the Catman(?) crafts from that distant summer. Other boats appeared to be somewhat larger, but still did not hold more than three or maybe half a dozen passengers. 

Odd? Yes. Now, for the bit I can remember -- or at least remember the most -- I was right next to a two-man craft and I think I had recently made a go of it. And by that I mean the sailing. I'm not sure how it turned out, or even how I got to that current position, which was the shore, but apparently the whole escapade could have gone better. The individual speaking to me gestured to the mass of boats in the distance, pointed out one in particular. I think I was meant to know who was piloting that particular boat, but I cannot recall how that might be or whether a name was mentioned. But the speaker just pointed to that individual and said something like, "Do you see what he [or so-and-so, or whatever] is doing out there?" I nodded, but I really had no clue. "Come on," the speaker insisted, "look!" As I watched the boat attack a small wake, the voice of the speaker trailed on. I don't recall specific words, but the message seemed to be something about intent and direction. He might have even said something like "attack the wake," but I cannot be certain. 

 I awoke from this image around 5:00am (EST). I could not return to the dream, or achieve adequate repose after that. This small snippet from the dream is all I have. And the fact that it has stayed with me this long today indicates that I am meant to do something with it. What that is ... remains to be seen.

Brief Encounter (A Holiday Story)

Here is a holiday story I wrote in 1994. The story, to me, tells a little of what I hope for in this season. It was also my first experiment in 2nd person narration -- I really wanted the reader to feel the story was happening to him or her. Feel free to share the story as long as you respect my copyright. The version that appears here is almost exactly as I originally penned it. I hope all those who visit my humble blog will appreciate it on some level. Merry Holy Days!

Brief Encounter Not even close. It’s December 13, almost 7pm, and you're not even close to getting done. But then, holiday preparations are never truly over, are they? The lights and the decorations. The tree, the trimmings. The food, the drink. And the gifts. Oh, Gods! the gifts... "If I bump into one more shopper or excited child, or if I have to speak to just one more merchant, I may..." But you never finish the thought. You let it go in favor of something more practical: "I have to get out of here." You make your way through the sea of patrons, dodging and weaving, participating in some complex and ultimately energy-sapping dance. It takes some effort to reach the main doors, but you smile with pride: Didn’t drop a single package. Exiting into the night, you feel a rush of crisp air hurry to your face. Snow tonight? Doubtful, but anything is possible. Anything, perhaps, save what happens next. You notice him emerge slowly from behind a small tree, which is surprising because he is much taller, much larger, than you would have expected, not that you ever expected to actually see him. The trademark items seem to be in place: the beard (though much darker in color) and the fur trimmed clothing, which is not nearly as cartoonish as you have seen in movies or even imagined. And it’s green! He looks right at you and moves to close the distance. No one else notices him, though he comes quite close to brushing elbows with several shoppers. And he makes no effort to avoid being fully illumined in the streetlights; it just happens that way. When he reaches you, you are surprised yet again. His unkempt beard is not only darker than you expected, it is reddish-brown in color! Professional coloring? Maybe, but it does look natural. As he removes his hat, you gaze upon his rugged yet joyful features and wonder why you always pictured him as a balding man. He is pleased that you recognize him; how you actually know that cannot quite be said. You just … know. Once he has your attention, he begins a dialogue. "And so,” says the man in green, his voice boisterous and strangely calm all at once, “how may’st you spend the seventeenth day of this the twelfth month?” You find yourself bowing ever so slightly and somewhat absently. He winks, smiles, and continues, “If you will excuse such a breach of formality.” You begin to form an answer, but it's too much effort to explain. “I just don't know,” you offer flatly. True, your friends are having a little party on that same day. But with so very much to be done this very busy season, how can you possibly commit to any activity save completing the tasks set and accepted as your own? The wind increases its volume such that it blankets all sounds not directly within earshot. You shiver, but your coverings keep you quite warm. He somehow knows what you are thinking. You can’t be certain how he could know, but you suffer no discomfit. He stretches out his hands and gestures toward the mall. “There is much more to this season than the garish consumer’s plague that seems to have conquered the holidays. Long before the obligatory exchange of parcels and packages came to pass, people knew truly how to observe the closing of the year.” He takes in a deep, solemn breath before continuing. “When the darkness of winter lay heavy upon the land, no crops grew, but the people drank, sang, loved and fought in their great halls. Their communal celebrations were a mighty affirmation of light against dark, life against death.” He smiles at his recollection and, for a moment, seems very far away. You feel sad for him, but quickly come to your senses. After all, you have much to do. This old relic may be content to live in the past, but you're much too practical for that. Times do change after all. His chuckle catches you off-guard. Again, he seems to know your thoughts. “Times do not change; people do. Even if thou think’st that all have forgotten, some do yet persist in the memory.” He pauses. His smile seems to broaden, but it’s actually his eyes—great twinkling emeralds—that smile so greatly. Those eyes draw you in closer until you hear him say, nearly whispering, “And the practice!” Practice? What does he mean by that? For the first time you feel both excited and frightened, wishing to flee but rooted firmly in place. “Dear one,” he continues in soothing tones, “Do not become so caught up in doing, and planning, buying and fretting that you forget. This season is for revelry, mirth and spiritual asylum. Love is the only true gift of this season.” You ponder his words. For a moment, you can hear the celebrations of old. The parking lot shifts in your view, replaced by a Yuletide gathering. You feel—really feel—a sense of love and communal connection in your heart. His voice echoes all around you, “I danced with them, and I would dance with you!” As the Yuletide scene fades from view, you blink your eyes and turn to ask the man in green a question. But he is gone. You are all alone in the parking lot. Had he truly been here? You know he doesn’t, couldn’t exist. Right? And if he did, why would he pay you a brief visit in this crowded mall parking lot. In your heart, the answer sings bold and true. “Season’s Greetings!” you shout out loud as you dance to your car. © December 1994, All Rights Reserved.

Researching the Mystic

Scientists have long felt that religious feelings occur somewhere in the brain. Some have even speculated that these feelings can be traced to a specific place in the gray matter between our ears, but there has been little agreement on where exactly this place might be. Scientific American magazine reports this month on the latest attempts to map the neurological landscape of religious experience. Through the use of MRIs and brain scans, researchers are "attempting to pin down what happens in the brain when people experience mystical awakenings during prayer and meditation or during spontaneous utterances inspired by religious fervor." As an individual who performs a technical job, I can understand the desire to find the "God(s) spot" in the human brain. And as an exercise in better understanding human behavior and development, I can support such research. But I also walk the narrow line between the empirical and the ineffable. I firmly believe there is a spiritual dimension to human life. Andean mystics, for example, believe that all humans have a metaphysical body in addition to the physical. The metaphysical body mimics the physical, yet this "other" body is tied to energy in the way that the physical body is tied to food items. The spiritual stomach eats and processes forms of energy, instead of physical food, breaking it down for other spiritual entities to devour in a way that echoes our physical digestive system. So is there truly this direct a correlation between the spiritual realm and our physical anatomy? I don't know. But while I am interested in research that measures brain waves and records bio-electrical impulses during meditation, I do have my concerns. I am concerned that the actual intent that drives such research is a desire to prove that religious experience is no more real than a chemically fueled hallucination. If that is the case here, then there are no winners.

SEARCHING FOR GOD IN THE BRAIN by David Biello Researchers are unearthing the roots of religious feeling in the neural commotion that accompanies the spiritual epiphanies of nuns, Buddhists and other people of faith The doughnut-shaped machine swallows the nun, who is outfitted in a plain T-shirt and loose hospital pants rather than her usual brown habit and long veil. She wears earplugs and rests her head on foam cushions to dampen the device’s roar, as loud as a jet engine. Supercooled giant magnets generate intense fields around the nun’s head in a high-tech attempt to read her mind as she communes with her deity. The Carmelite nun and 14 of her Catholic sisters have left their cloistered lives temporarily for this claustrophobic blue tube that bears little resemblance to the wooden prayer stall or sparse room where such mystical experiences usually occur. Each of these nuns answered a call for volunteers “who have had an experience of intense union with God” and agreed to participate in an experiment devised by neuroscientist Mario Beauregard of the University of Montreal. Using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), Beauregard seeks to pinpoint the brain areas that are active while the nuns recall the most powerful religious epiphany of their lives, a time they experienced a profound connection with the divine. The question: Is there a God spot in the brain? ... [ Full Story ]

The Moon is Lovely, Dark and Deep

My previous post provided some news about one of Saturn's moons and new images that were acquired this month. I would be remiss, however, if I did not also point out a Space.com article from this week that talks about our own Moon, that mysterious mistress of the night and our planet's closest astronomical companion. Charles Q. Choi has penned a wonderful piece titled "The Enduring Mysteries of the Moon." He covers questions of how the moon was made, was there ever water on the moon, and did the moon ever host life, among other tids and bits. He also provides links to lunar images, news, and lore. Check it out:

The Enduring Mysteries of the Moon by Charles Q. Choi The moon--linked in myth with goddesses of witchcraft and the hunt, with gods of magic and wisdom--is nearly as old as Earth itself, with enigmas of its own. As close as the moon is to Earth, we are still far from solving all its mysteries--from how the moon was born to whether life on Earth has its past and future there... [ Full Story ]