God's Name ... Creation and undoing!Written by Edward B. Toupin
Over past number of years, while going through my studies and research, information and answers come to surface that are most astounding. I have come to understand things differently than I was taught in years of Catholic schooling. Although, I still believe in "bigger picture" and "something greater", it has taken on a different tone and context. It has turned from a fearful system of faith to a confident system of knowledge and thought.
One of many things I've thought about, as you can see from previous writings, is existence of a single being or god --- God for many religions. Indeed, belief of having a singular being encapsulate all of wonders of Universe makes it much easier to live with unanswered questions that we're all taught to accept in faith through fear-based religions. But, although I stray, my research and questions always come back to fact that there is one, singular being that does encapsulate these wonders --- it is individual human being and their soul.
The soul is wonder within us that we all tend to seek outside of ourselves. We're always looking for these "great answers" from a greater being when answers reside within. However, this brings up an interesting myth I had heard some years ago. It is said that God that so many religions worship has a name that is not known to human-kind. The story notes that, in beginning, to initiate creation of Universe, God's "true name" was spoken. However, if God's true name is spoken in reverse, it will undo all of creation.
An Ode to Morpheus Written by Ambreen Ishrat
Another night and Morpheus has yet again to deliver my share of sleep and so I lie on my pillow, gazing at ceiling fan, while rest of world is in deep slumber.
How I wish to have hypnotized myself to sleep as counting sheep never helps, nor does hot milk. The sandman's sand has also turned colourless. Another night it is when sleep deludes my weary eyes and my overactive brain refuses to stop dwindling on scenes of day that has just ended and another one has started silently.
Sleep - boundary between two days - is missing. What's big deal, you must think, for every now and then, a sleepless night is quite a normal thing for everyone. But for some, this is an affliction that happens more often than usual. And what makes me hysterical is feeling that on one such desperate night, you also tend to discover that you have run out of your emergency supply of sleeping pills. So much for my emergency-coping capabilities!
The value of sleep can only be known to an insomniac and bliss that it brings to one who is weary in soul as well. For me, sleep is what always restores my sanity, which can wear off effects of gruesome schedules, worries and complications. It is a happy escape into land of Oz, where I can slip into for a few hours and then come back to familiar worrisome and often irksome daily routine. The problems remain same, but my ability to cope with them certainly increases thrice-fold. Pimples on tired skin reduce, sting of heartaches lessen and deadlines become graspable. Like a magical transformation, overnight my body gets charged with energy. The brain starts brimming with activated and regenerated neurons and I rise as a new person who takes upon irksome hurdles of yesterday with horns and does away with them.
So silent seems world around me that I can hear beating of my own heart. My weary eyes start to roam and scan length and breadth of four corners of room. This is my room, my heaven, my prison and my hell. The walls wear my solitude like trophies and silence curls on my bed and encapsulates me like a shroud, where I lie with my hands resting neatly by my sides. I lift palm of my hand and feel my own breath at back of my hand - to seek reassurance that I am still alive and this isn't silence of grave. And if that is not enough, my mind goes on speculating on and on as to why certain things happened. At night, my mind turns itself into a backyard cluttered with half-conceived and half-aborted ideas and plans that I keep on stumbling upon. All wonderful ideas and resolutions which flit like bats in nook and crannies of my mind fade away on seeing light of day. The mind is also graveyard of memories and remembrances, which are easily resurrected in dead of twelfth hour. As morbidity tries to seize me, I kick my sheet off and get up, wishing no more to wait upon sleep or revel in thoughts of past, analysis of day just gone by and pipe dreams of tomorrow.
The chill gets better of me and for one moment, warmth of my bed tempts me to snuggle back again. But body refuses to lay in monotony anymore. My mind swiftly scans possibility of activities that can help me to kill time or to induce sufficient tiredness, forcing me to lull me back to peaceful sojourn of sleep. A book to read maybe, a long overdue letter that needs to be answered or I can hook on net and explore web. All options are considered and struck off one after another, as my tired body protests. Hence, I decide to just lie low and breathe surrounding silence in and out.