The Sound of Life

Today began with 12 readings (ikos or hymns) from The Akathist of Thanksgiving.  This is an inspiring work composed by Protopresbyter Gregory Petrov in 1940 as he awaited death in a prison camp.  His powerful songs of praise to God in the midst of incomprehensible suffering express the depths of human worship.

Glory to You, Who have manifested the unfathomable force of the laws of the universe,

Glory to You, all of nature is full of the laws of Your being,

Glory to You, for all that has been revealed to us through Your goodness,

Glory to You, for all You have kept hidden in Your wisdom,

Glory to You, for the genius of the human mind,

Glory to You, for the life-giving strength of work,

Glory to You, for the fiery tongues of inspiration,

Glory to You, O God, unto ages of ages.

-Ikos 7, Akathist of Thanksgiving

Inspiring thoughts such as these replayed in my mind as I drove to an appointment with our wellness practitioner. Devoted to helping others who might otherwise be “stuck” with illusive health issues, she extends encouragement that goes beyond obvious physical services. I always arrive at her place of business with anticipation, and leave inspired.

During my treatment with her I read a chapter in another book recommended by my husband’s cardiologist: What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Heart Disease by Mark C. Houston, MD, MS.  Dr. Houston has an impressive biography, and is one of the most sought after lecturers in the US on the topics of hypertension, vascular aging and biology, metabolic and functional medicine, and integrative and preventative cardiovascular medicine.  A physician worthy of deep respect.

After the appointment I made a routine stop at the grocery store for a few things. Then I slung the plastic bags into the back of the car, climbed into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and flipped on our local private radio station featuring classical music. 

But this is all background information.  Now we’re getting to the important part.

Positioned behind the steering wheel with the transmission still in the "park" position, I opened a 15-oz. bottle of Bolthouse Farms “Daily Greens” and opened a bag of sunflower seeds – a late lunch. Strains of violin wafted through the interior of the stuffy car.  The music seemed to magically change everything, as if to represent an overwhelming sense of Presence.

I stared through the insect-spotted windshield at massive white clouds perched like giant marshmallows in the sky, transfixed.

The soaring strains of violin seemed to integrate with elements of my being: streams of blood coursing through veins, sparks of energy traveling along meridians, swells of gratitude bursting open stale thoughts.  I leaned back with my head plastered against the headrest, shocked by the intensity.  This seemed an unlikely spot to be overwhelmed by such awe, such reverence.  Meanwhile, my sunflower seeds and healthy green juice made with kale, spinach, and romaine sat untouched.  The car engine purred.  I waited, not hurrying the moment but inviting it to be what it must be. 

The violin's strings sang their song, giving voice to magnificence beyond the moment.  It seemed to be the music of the universe, the Creator - the sound of splendor, of revelation and mystery, of brilliance that breaks through convention to inspire understanding.  It seemed an auditory rendition of work and purpose and accomplishment, even all the millions of functions going on inside my body - a melodious call to relationship with God and His creation, to relationship with everything known, believed, and hoped.  

It was the sound of life.