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Enchantment

Enchantment

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Suspending disbelief is not nearly as powerful as believing ~

How often do you allow yourself to be enchanted?
When last were you captivated by a story, a piece of music, or a movie?
Can you think of a recent nature scene, or idea, or person who left you spellbound?
 
We all long for enchantment, for a world of magic.
But most of us learned to stop believing a long time ago.
Fairies and elves, princes and princesses, talking animals and friendly trees – all these were safely packed away in a box called ‘childhood fantasies’, along with Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.
Only occasionally do we allow ourselves to peek back into the box through the eyes of our children, or perhaps through the flickering lens of a cinema projector.
The rest of the time, our world is somewhat dull and grey, predictable and rational.
 
We draw a sharp line between fact and fiction, between reality and illusion.
And yet we trick ourselves into only believing what we can see, instead of trusting what we can feel.
We are victims of our own self-deception, conjuring evidence for drudgery when our intuition is whispering wondrous secrets in our ear.
 
So why the disenchantment?
Why have we allowed the technicolour to drain from our lives, leaving a facsimile in black and white?
Could it be that our parents left us in the shadow of well-meaning protection, that our schools taught us from the book of fear, that our religions forgot to tell us that the kingdom is within?
 
Or perhaps it was an innocent misunderstanding.
Our parents, our teachers, our religious leaders and ultimately, we ourselves, failed to understand that believing in fairies means believing in the art of the possible, that we are all knights in shining armour on the hero’s journey of our lives, and that tales of true love are not idealistic nonsense but the very reason for our being.
 
Somewhere in the process of growing up, we became confused and we threw out the message with the medium, the magic with the fairytales.
Nevertheless, we still all have a natural affinity for enchantment.
 
We can start believing again.
How?
By allowing ourselves to be delighted, by loosening the suffocating grip we have on our emotions, by being alive to the beauty of the moment, by letting our imaginations fly.
 
Enchantment does not mean turning our back on reality, but rather immersing ourselves in reality, with all our senses.
It means being fully present in our lives, and not denying the incredible experience of being on this earth.
We don’t have to struggle to be amazed, we simply have to open our eyes.
 
We are all practicing magic all the time, whether we know it or not.
The spells we cast are little affirmations we constantly chant in our heads – about whether life is fair, whether we believe in ourselves, and what is really important in our lives.
Take care, therefore, that you are not invocating bad spells, against yourself and others.
 
Enchantment comes from consciously inviting the light of love to shine through in every facet of life.
And expecting to see magic happen.
So, today, expect miracles, be amazed, weave good spells – in a word, let yourself be enchanted.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Dreams

Dreams

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Dreams are the swirling smoke of our spirit’s fire ~

Do you dream often?
What do they mean, these wispy, incoherent images that drift like clouds across the moon of our nightscape?
Should we just dismiss our dreams as the daily unwinding of our clockwork minds, the inevitable uncoiling of our highly sprung emotions?
Or are they vital messages from our unconscious depths, waiting to be deciphered?
 
There are many kinds of dreams – nocturnal dreams and waking dreams, dream of the shadow and dreams of the light.
 
Dreaming takes us into a world of transience.
Nothing is fixed, everything is dynamic; nothing is solid, everything is fluid; nothing is predictable, everything is volatile.
Maybe that is why dreams sometimes appear as nightmares.
We fear the unknown.
Uncertainty makes us anxious.
It is also why we often discard dreams as nonsense.
They don’t conform to our neat boxes of rationality.
They are the genie which refuses to stay inside the lamp of logic.
 
Dreaming is our more honest way of being – an uncensored state, where thoughts manifest as actions and emotions flare as colour.
When we dream, we glimpse inside a compressed time capsule – intention instantly translates into motion and the gap between cause and effect is closed.
This too can be frightening.
 
Are we prepared to accept responsibility for our wishes if they come true?
Will we like what we see in a world where we reap what we sow – in thought, word and deed – instantly?
 
Another reason for the sometimes ominous quality of our dreams is that they represent our shadow.
Everything we suppress or ignore or deny in ourselves – whatever we push below the surface of our consciousness – ends up in the subterranean caverns of our dreaming.
It is our psyche’s way of encouraging us to embrace our shadow, to restore the balance between light and dark, seen and unseen.
 
Have you ever noticed what happens to the monsters in your dreams when you respond with love rather than react with fear, when you offer acceptance rather than rejection, when you seek to understand rather than judge?
They mutate – the monsters are transformed into something less sinister, or they may disappear completely.
 
But not all dreams are nightmares.
What of ecstatic dreams – transcendent dreams of flying and connective dreams of love?
Could these dreams of light be a form of communication with our higher selves, an encounter with our angels and spirit guides, a discarnate meeting place for friends and loved ones?
 
Sometimes the power and authenticity of such dreams lead us to wonder whether they do in fact represent a larger reality.
Perhaps our waking world is the real dream-state, the more limited manifestation of our potential as spiritual beings.
 
Whatever our beliefs, dreams are sources of great energy, which we can tap into and channel in our lives.
 
Dreams remind us that anything is possible.
They give us the courage to think big, to pursue our visions.
 
Dreams are wormholes in time, allowing us to slip into parallel dimensions of reality, to glimpse how our lives might be different, to imagine what spectacular secrets the universe may contain.
 
Daydreaming sneaks us past the soldiers that guard the fortress of our three-dimensional rational world and lead us through the tunnels and catacombs of possibility into a lush landscape of sagacious knowledge.
And when we return – when we snap back into our normal waking consciousness – we still carry the gems from our otherworldly travels in our pockets.
 
Don’t fret if you don’t know what your dream-acquired treasures mean.
When the lock appears, the key will present itself.
In the meantime, dream on.
Follow your dreams today and see where they take you.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Doubt

Doubt

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Doubt is the shield we carry through the battlefields of life ~

What is the place of doubt in your life?
Do you question your abilities or potential?
Do you nurture insecurities about your desirability?
Are there lingering doubts about your relationships?
Or perhaps some niggling uncertainties about your beliefs?
 
Many see doubt as a disease, an unfortunate affliction that is best avoided, or if infection has already set in, a condition to be cured.
But doubt is a prerequisite for good health.
Like the friendly bacteria in yoghurt, doubt helps us to fight off life’s more serious threats.
 
We all have doubts, because they are the by-products of living and learning.
When a child burns itself on the stove, it has doubts about what is safe to touch – and that is a good thing.
When we have been let down by friends, we think twice about relying completely on others again – and that is a worthwhile lesson.
When we have been hurt in love, we are more cautious in our choice of future partners – and that is a sensible approach.
When our religious beliefs have failed us, we question their infallibility – and that is a wise perspective.
 
Doubt is the path to awareness, while certainty is the road to naivety.
Doubt is like a mountaineer with a walking stick, which she uses to test the ground ahead before stepping into the unknown.
Certainty is like a blind man without a stick, stumbling forward in the misguided belief that all obstacles will be cleared from his path.
 
Without doubt, there can be no questioning.
And without questioning, there can be no discovery.
Without discovery, there can be no true knowledge.
And without true knowledge, there can be no progress.
 
And yet, when doubt turns to despair, it becomes our prison, rather than our sky.
When doubt overwhelms us, it keeps us in shackles, rather than giving us wings.
For the purpose of doubt is not to paralyse, but to catalyse.
Doubt should encourage us to test the water, not scare into a fear drowning.
 
Doubt and trust are partners in time.
To have trust without any doubt is to be foolish and to court disaster.
To have doubt without any trust is to be paranoid and to invite madness.
And yet, each moves opposite to the other, like tango dancers.
As trust increases, doubt recedes into the shadows.
But break the trust, and doubt returns stronger than before.
 
Doubt is not an absence of hope
And faith is not an absence of doubt.
In the same way as bravery is not an absence of fear
Hope is seeing the light in spite of the shadows
And faith is trusting the unknown despite the dangers.
 
So let us be bold in our hopes, but not foolish in our footsteps.
Let us be brave in our faith, but not blind in our beliefs.
Let us listen to our doubts, but not be deafened by their cries.
Let us be healthy doubters
Not stuck in the mire of fear and disbelief
But en route to the horizon of living and learning and loving
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Dignity

Dignity

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Dignity is the saving grace of humanity ~ 

Which leaders do you admire for their dignity?
What is it about their attitude, or their behaviour, that distinguishes them?
What does it mean to live, and to die, with dignity?
 
Dignity implies being able to hold your head up high, to be proud of your actions, to be unashamed of the way in which you carry yourself in the world.
Not because you are better than others, or holier than thou; on the contrary, because you are the same as others, equally worthy.
 
Dignity is the worth we bestow on ourselves and others when we affirm our common humanity.
Dignity draws on what is good in human beings – our generosity, our compassion, our selflessness – not because it wishes to deny what is bad, but because it believes that we have the choice.
Our higher nature can transcend our baser selves, if we cultivate the strength of our principles.
 
We respect the world’s great moral leaders, past and present, because of the difficult choices they made.
They chose forgiveness over revenge, love over hate, service over success.
 
The worst embodiments of evil in the history of the world – whether people, or political regimes or religious doctrines – were all attempts to strip people of their basic human dignity, their inherent worth as people, their intrinsic value as citizens.
 
Prejudice is the destroyer of dignity.
When we are prejudiced against someone because of their colour or creed, their nationality or sexual preference, their looks or weight, we are denigrating them, devaluing their personality, degrading their humanity.
We are judging them on artificial scales and sentencing them on superficial grounds.
 
We all have prejudices.
They are drummed into us by our parents, taught by our schools, and ritualised by our religions.
We are blinded by our cultures, brainwashed by the media and seduced by our hubris.
Dignity is the ability to recognise prejudice for the false god that it is, and choose instead to affirm each person’s inherent value as a human being.
 
Ironically, it is often those whose dignity is most assaulted who find it within themselves to respond to their persecutors in a dignified manner.
Many of our most admired icons are those who refused to treat others in the same dehumanising way in which they themselves were treated.
Mahatma Ghandi responded to active violence with passive resistance, Martin Luther King responded to racism with a dream of harmony between black and white, and Nelson Mandela forgave his captors and sought to unify those whom apartheid had rent apart.
 
At the heart of dignity is the unshakeable belief that no one person is better, or worse, than another.
Delusions of superiority, even under the guise of self-righteousness, are a poison in the blood of dignity.
Likewise, feelings of inferiority are a malignant cancer which eats away at the body of dignity.
 
We should not think that dignity is only a task for the heroic amidst the melodrama of historical injustice.
Every moment of the day, in small yet significant ways, we affirm or deny dignity in our lives.
 
Dignity is all in the way we regard others.
Do we judge them superficially, or do we look beyond surface appearances?
Do we see them through the tainted lens of prejudice, or do we treat them as equals?
Do we build them up based on their strengths and potential, or do we break them down based on their weaknesses and failings?
 
Treating others with dignity, however, is impossible unless we have discovered our own sense of self-worth.
Do we believe in our own fundamental value as human beings?
Do we have faith in our own ability to make a contribution in this world?
Do we feel connected to a source of inspiration that guides us in the realisation of our divine potential?
 
Dignity is not a free inheritance, but something we have to work at.
It is not a miraculous gift of the saints, but a habit which we have to nurture with intent.
Yet, unlike prejudice which is learned, dignity is an act of remembrance.
For our original state as humans is one of dignity.
 
We all share the same dream on this day, and throughout our lives, and that is to be treated with dignity and respect, to be valued for who we are as human beings.
So let us give as we hope to receive – because you’re worth it, and so am I.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Dancing

Dancing

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Dancing is allowing ourselves to be moved by music ~ 

Why does dancing feel so good?
Could it be that we were all born to dance?
 
Dancing is as natural as breathing and no less vital.
It is not something we have to be taught when we are young.
Yet we learn to stop doing it as we get older.
 
Dancing is music in motion.
It is what happens when we hear the beat and feel the rhythm.
 
What is your favourite dance music?
What gets your finger tapping and your head bobbing, your hips shaking and your feet stamping?
When can you no longer resist the urge to get up and dance?
 
Dance works as a universal language because it is so diverse.
One size never fits all.
But dance comes in infinite shapes and sizes.
There are cultural dances and national dances, traditional dances and modern dances.
You can choose jazz or cabaret, Latin or ballroom.
Do you love ballet, or are you a disco diva?
Maybe you can break-dance or whirl like a dervish?
 
Each tide of music makes its own waves of dance.
Like the gravitational pull of the moon, we feel the tug of dance on the sea of our emotions.
We move to the music not because we think we should, but because we feel we must.
 
Dancing is not an instruction of the mind, but an expression of the heart.
We dance because it allows us to let go of something inside, to give vent to our inner wildness.
Dancing lets us be a child again, footloose and carefree.
It gives us permission to connect with that part of ourselves which does not question, which acts rather than thinks, which moves because it feels right, not because there is a good reason to do so.
 
Dance is the quintessence of harmony – harmony between time and space, music and movement, beat and step.
Dance is an exhibition of beauty, the perfect choreography of resonance – motion is in tune with emotion, sway echoes sound, pattern weaves design.
 
Dancers are the living expression of Tao, the way of flow – they swirl to the eddies of song, glide to trickle of composition and churn to the whitewater rapids of the beat.
 
When music plays and we stand still, we are out of kilter.
Sound demands motion.
Music without dance is dissonance, an unnatural stemming of the tide, a dam wall cutting off the river from its source.
 
Why then do we so often ignore the call to dance?
Have we become deaf to the music?
Perhaps we have forgotten what moves us?
Or are we simply afraid of what others might think?
 
We have been tricked into believing that there is a right and a wrong way to dance, a better and a worse way.
How tragic.
We should be celebrating our own unique style of dancing, making our footprint on the sands of time, like all those before us since time immemorial.
 
Just as no one can tell us what kind of music moves us, so no one can judge the way we dance.
Dance in a crowd, dance with a partner, or dance alone – whatever makes you feel good.
And if others think we can not dance, it is only because they do not understand what moves us.
 
Dancing, when it happens spontaneously, is a match made in heaven.
It is a state of pure being, of oneness with the universe.
When we dance, we hear the echo of the primordial drum beat, we dip our oar into the river of rhythm through the ages, and we throb to the very pulse of life itself.
 
Do you know what music moves you?
Play it now, even if just in your head, and watch yourself dance through the day.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Books

Books

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Books are the ongoing conversation of the ages ~ 

Do you have a soft spot for books, a weakness for their charms?
Do you think of books with fondness, regard them with affection?
Perhaps you would even go so far as to say that you have a love affair with books?
 
Books are such sweet seduction.
Who can resist the coy enticement of an enigmatic title, the alluring perfume of virginal pages, or the beckoning gesture of a back cover synopsis?
Dressed in shining leather, laced with gold trim, trailing a teasing ribbon, who can fail to be bewitched?
Or are you beguiled by the more rugged, travel-savvy type, whose rough looks hint at adventures barely survived?
 
Whatever your preference, books have a way of grabbing our attention, revealing just enough to pique our interest and then string us along, toying with our emotions, keeping us guessing.
With each successive chapter, another button is undone, another layer shed, another feature unveiled.
 
Some books are a sun-kissed afternoon spent in pleasant idle chatter.
Others are a romantic-laden dinner full of suggestive glances.
And still others are a pace-quickening ride ending in a breathless climax.
 
What are your favourite books?
Can you remember the first book that made a real impact on you?
 
When we learn to read, we forge a magical key to a vault of unimaginable hoarded wealth.
When we enter in, the vast cavern is stacked from floor to ceiling with treasure chests, just waiting for us to open them and find out what is inside.
 
Every book is a mystery trapped between two covers.
And we are the only ones who can release the riddle from bondage.
We are the only ones who can undertake the fairytale quest to discover its secrets.
 
When we start reading a book, we are blind to the journey we are about to undertake, of the magical places we will visit and the mortal dangers we will encounter.
We have no idea how the story will end, not least the tale of our own transformation.
For every book is a philosopher’s stone, a rite of alchemy which changes us.
 
Books are a meeting place – between author and reader, between expressed intent and receptive imagination, between past and present.
 
Whoever said that time travel has yet to be invented has never read a book.
Books transport us back in history, to exotic places and strange times.
For all books are a child of their time.
We see old worlds through new eyes, and new worlds through old eyes.
There are no limits to where the enchanted time-machine we call books can take us.
 
And yet, no matter how far we travel, in time and space, in creativity and imagination, we end up back at the same place we started – the place where people connect.
Books are always about relationships, about the interaction between characters.
 
Books are the dialogue which never ends, the eternal human conversation.
We can choose how much of the dialogue to listen to, how much of the conversation to participate in.
We can voice our agreement or register our dissent.
And every word will add to the evolving story of humankind.
 
Books are power in our hands and wisdom in our heads.
Books are passion in our hearts and levity in our souls.
They are all these things and more.
 
Yet their ready accessibility keeps books out of the reach of many.
Their common appearance disguises their unbelievable worth.
Do not let yourself be fooled.
Claim your prize today.
Set off on a journey into the unknown.
Allow yourself to be seduced.
 
What book will you choose?
And more tellingly, what book will choose you?
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Beginnings

Beginnings

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Every new beginning is just a first step away ~ 

Do you have hopes, dreams and wishes for the future?
Or even just something you have been meaning to do, or longing to achieve?
Why not make a start today towards making it happen?
 
Nothing grand, nothing onerous, just take one small action to set you on your way.
Cathedrals are built one stone at a time, and although they may take generations to complete, they would not exist at all if someone hadn’t been bold enough to lay the first cornerstone.
Lao Tzu was right:
The journey of a thousand miles does begin with the first step.
 
But why is that first step often so difficult to take?
Perhaps it is because we are intimidated by the size of the task before us, the length of the journey ahead?
But remember the old question of how to eat an elephant.
Answer: one bite at a time.
An inspiring vision is important, but it helps to focus on down-to-earth practicalities to get started.
 
Another reason we hesitate to begin afresh is because we have tried and failed before.
Cynicism is the root of all inertia.
If you are dismissive or scornful of New Year’s resolutions, it is probably because you’ve been burned before;
You’ve had your own or others’ hopes dashed as idealistic goals fizzle like damp squibs in the cold light of daily pressures.
Sound familiar?
 
One way to cure cynicism is to change the way we think about beginnings.
Every big ending is the result of countless small beginnings.
We should not expect to achieve our goals the first time we try.
You are saved from failure not by being born again, but by being born again and again and again, as many times as it takes to succeed.
 
The only thing more difficult than beginning is beginning again.
And yet beginning again is the easiest way, indeed the only way, to succeed.
The willingness to pick ourselves up when we fall and to try again is what makes the difference between success and failure, between moving forwards and standing still, or going backwards.
 
Or maybe it is not failure that you fear, but success itself.
What would happen if your wildest dream, your most cherished hope, your secret wish, really did come true?
You would have to change.
You would have to take responsibility for all those things you said would be possible “if only”.
So sometimes we shy away from new beginnings because we are afraid of where they might take us.
But unless we set our foot upon the path, we will never really know where it leads.
 
It is true that not all beginnings are bright and cheery.
Starting an unpleasant chore, or beginning a life without a loved one is hardly cause for celebration.
Yet even these tough beginnings will bring their share of rewards for effort and reprieves from suffering.
 
Indeed, in dark times, it is often the chance to begin again which helps us to make it through.
We take each day, each step, each breath, one at a time, in order to survive.
Remembering that each new beginning holds the potential to change things for the better:
To lighten the darkness;
To ease the load
To heal the wound
To forgive and love again.
 
We can take our cues from nature – each sunrise, the new moon, spring time.
Or we can invent our own reminders – morning prayers, the start of a week, the first of the month, or celebrating a new year.
Or perhaps our beginnings will be inspired by the Resurrection, Ramadan, Passover, or Diwali.
 
We are constantly on the cusp of new beginnings, amidst the cycles of our lives.
And there is no better time to begin anew than now …
And now, and now and …
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Ageing

Ageing

Prose by Wayne Visser

 ~ As much as age is an inescapable reality, it is also an ethereal illusion ~

Is ageing a blessing or a curse?
Do you rejoice or bemoan your age?
Do you look forward to getting older or fear the prospect?
 
We all have to make that journey through time, from starting point to destination, from birth to death.
And yet our travel experiences are all unique.
Most of us will pass through the same landscapes – of infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood and maturity.
And yet how we each view the scenery will be different.
 
Each stage en-route has its own virtues and vices:
The innocence and dependence of infancy;
The curiosity and tantrums of childhood;
The passion and rebellion of adolescence;
The productivity and routines of adulthood;
And the wisdom and aches of maturity.
 
And yet these traits refuse to be neatly confined to our age-boxes:
There is as much wisdom in youth as there is rebellion in old age;
Adults are no strangers to tantrums and children are productive in their own ways.
 
We have mythologized the life cycle, drawing on timeless archetypal images to bring meaning to the process of ageing.
At any one time, we represent the child, the warrior, the mother, the king, the old crone or the wise man.
We do not have to be defined by these symbols, but we can tap into their power any time we choose.
 
Which mantle are you wearing right now, irrespective of your age or socially defined role?
We tend to be conditioned about what is expected of us at any given age.
We are told to grow up or to act our age.
When we are young we covet maturity and when we are older we reminisce about youth.
It’s almost as if there is an unwritten law – thou shalt at all times be dissatisfied with thine age.
Why do we buy into this rhetoric?
 
Ageing is not only natural and unavoidable, it is also wonderful and beautifying.
Each passing year is an accumulated treasure of experiences.
Each new year brings fresh opportunities to learn from.
Of course every age has its restrictions and downsides, but these only overshadow the freedoms and upsides if we allow them to.
 
Ageing is as much a mental game as a physical one.
“How old are you?” is not nearly as revealing and important as “How old do you feel?”
 
You may no longer have the effervescent energy of a child, but what is stopping you from looking at the world with the awe of constant discovery?
You may not have the bottled insecurity of a teenager, but you are never too old to fall head-over-heels in love.
 
You may don all the trappings of a responsible adult, but you don’t have to lose the passion of your mercurial dreaming.
You may make the perfect picture of a doting grandparent, yet still be growing rapidly in mental and spiritual terms.
For as much as age is a wrinkling of the skin and a greying of the hair, it is a stretching of the mind and a colouring of soul.
 
Ageing is to be joyfully embraced, despite what the commercials try to brainwash us into believing.
Your age tells the story of who you are, what you’ve done, where you’ve been.
It is a fascinating story, compelling in its details, every twist in the tale worthwhile.
You need to be proud of your age, even while you refuse to let it define who you are.
 
For age is never static, never predictable.
Age is the flow of time.
And the only age that is real is the present.
Your true age is now.
Why not celebrate it?
Now.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Business

Business

Prose by Wayne Visser

Business is the lifeblood coursing through the veins of society, pulsing with creative spirit, transforming the earth’s raw gifts into food to sustain our needs, energy to power our imaginations, blocks to build our dreams.
 
The heart of business is service, flexing with tireless reciprocity, pumping multifarious products of enterprise through lubricant trade arteries to the farthest reaches of the global body-civic. 
 
When the heart is strong, and the arteries are clear, and the blood is clean, the constitution of civilization is likely to be healthy; But when service is sacrificed for greed, and trade is inequitably distributed, and business is corrupt of values, the integrity of the community is likely to be diseased. When the circulation of benefits is poor, numbness follows and rot eventually sets in; When wealth congeals in the hands of too few, it is only a matter of time before the clot causes a brain haemorrhage; When unethical behaviour builds up in the commercial system like viscous cholesterol, a cardiac arrest is the inevitable conclusion. 
 
Business serves its purpose best when it flows freely and widely, unbound by the constrictions of petty bureaucrats and their obsessive need to tie tourniquets of red-tape; Free from the interference of fickle politicians and their compulsive habit of pulling strings and trading favours; Free from the drain of financial vampires and their unquenchable thirst for higher growth and profits and packages at all costs. 
 
Business nourishes society when it is the conduit for sharing knowledge and passion and wisdom; When it is the stimulus for nurturing growth and development and integrity; When it is the means for meeting the needs of those most vulnerable, living on the desperate margins of the world. 
Business bleeds society when it thoughtlessly injures the planet or harms its people; When it incarcerates the human spirit or enslaves creative minds; When it becomes infected with the cancer of acquisitive means to selfish ends. 
 
Responsibility for business, be it good or ill, is always collective. Even to speak of business as a separate, engagable entity, is a fallacy, created for the convenience of theoreticians, philosophers and others who wish to stand aside and commentate on life, rather than experience it first hand. 
Business is not, can never be, separate from society, neither from the people who animate its communities, or the natural environment which sustains its continued existence. Where would one begin and the other end? 
 
We are all economic agents – customers, employees, shareholders, employers, managers – inextricably linked, permeable, interdependent – a grand synergy. In the final analysis, we – each, individually, and together, collectively – are business and business is us. It is the same life-giving blood that courses through all our veins.
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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Music

Music

Prose by Wayne Visser

~ Any music can be played, but the best music plays us ~

Think of one of your favourite songs or pieces of music.
What is it about that track or tune that makes it so special?
No doubt it moves you, but why?
Think about the first time you heard it.
Was it a particularly memorable time, or place?
Were you with someone special?
 
Music gets some of its power from association.
It evokes emotions, which in turn embed the memory of whatever was happening at the time.
Songs become like flags on our personal trail, markers of high points, low points and other significant landmarks in between.
They are an index to our past, bookmarks of places we revisit in our minds, triggers of holographic images on the horizon when we look back.
But association only part of music’s power.
What of the music itself?
 
Music acts like a tuning fork, setting off a chain of sympathetic vibrations.
In other words music speaks in the language of moods.
Either it echoes our existing moods, our inner state, or it is a catalyst for changing our moods.
And when the music matches our mood, we experience a profound sense of resonance, of being in tune with an ethereal power.
The reinforcement of our emotions has an amplification effect.
We feel more deeply, reflect more clearly.
 
To lose ourselves in a piece of music simply means that we are in complete harmony with it.
At times like these, music is the audible outer manifestation of our inaudible inner voice.
So in reality, we find ourselves in the music.
It only feels like oblivion sometimes because you and the music are one, flowing in the same direction at the same speed with the same destination – the beat of the rain becomes the river, the sway of the river becomes the sea.
 
Like the river, music not only flows but tells the story of its passage.
We relate to songs because they whisper the stories of our lives.
They speak of love’s yearning when our hearts are longing, they trumpet victory when we are triumphant, they sing the blues when we are sorrowful, they agitate for change when our blood is surging with revolution.
 
Sometimes the story of a piece of music is transparently clear.
More often than not, however, the real story has to be read between the lines. Songs are opaque narratives of a great unfolding mystery.
Each word, each turn of phrase, each tonal inflection, is a clue, one piece of the puzzle, a shape in the jigsaw of meaning.
 
What sentiment was the composer trying to convey?
What treasure did the lyricist hide behind the words?
What does the singer’s interpretation say about their own secrets?
 
The real enigma of music is what it tells us about ourselves.
Does a particular tune bring you to tears?
What does that say about you?
Is there a song that lifts your spirits?
Why?
What music do your family and friends like?
 
These are not questions to be rationalized, but musings to be lingered over.
This is not an intellectual exercise, but an intuitive workout, a soul stretching.
Music is the key to our souls.
Therefore, your choice of music, or someone else’s, is a peek through the keyhole into the most precious of inner chambers.
 
This ability of music to unlock the barricaded door to our hearts, to access the holy-of-holies of our souls, is at once euphorically liberating and unnervingly frightening.
It means that giving ourselves over to the art of the Muse – letting the music play us – is a risk, for we don’t know what we will discover about ourselves.
But the rewards are profound – insight, inspiration and meaning.
Will you take the risk today?
 

Wayne Visser © 2005

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