I dedicate this site to the memory of my stepdaughter, Heather, who was murdered on Thanksgiving 2017. I want to chronicle some of the events and spiritual insights that happened. It is my hope that this may help some other souls who stumble upon this site. Maybe some good can come off this after all (read more here).  ~ May 2018

Click on a topic below to expand it. You can move and zoom as well.

From Herman Hesse to snowflakes to stars to time and James Blunt’s High (Beautiful dawn)

I woke up early this morning, and read the final chapter of Herman Hesse’s “the glass peal game,” which so skillfully interweaves several ancient Indian stories of Vishnu and Krishna as if a dream of Maya.  And then, it began to snow outside!  Middle of April.  Just a few days ago, it was a sunny 18 degrees C (65 F), and now it was snowing?!  

As I drove my wife to work, thick, heavy snowflakes were hitting the windshield.

The universe sometimes provides in strange ways.

And I remembered.

I remembered a note I wrote in an email less than three months ago, on January 30, 2019, when it snowed as well:   

“As I sit and write this message, big snowflakes are falling outside my window –  which is not as common anymore as it once was.  Remember that snowflakes are also crystals, but each snowflake is unique!  All-That-Is expressing itself/ourselves in a myriad of shapes .”

I remembered that insight:

  • The universe expresses itself in a myriad of ways.
  • Every snowflake is unique; no two are exactly the same.
  • Just as we are:  unique.  Every one of us is unique.  Yet the same.  That – in a nutshell- is the great mystery.

And I remembered something else, which is related to my current thinking about time and the theory of reality (please don’t ask, yet):   

As I drove through the gently falling snow, it looked like the snowflakes are coming at me.  But the snow fell straight down, because, well, that’s what snow does. It is only my own motion that made the snow seem like it was coming at me.  Relativity at work.

And I remembered another similar incident from back when I was a much younger man.  This is now several decades in the past, before I was old enough to drive a car.  But somehow I remember this.  

Back then I wrote my bicycle everywhere.  Including to school at 6:30 AM in the dark of a winter’s morn, while thick snow silently fell all around me.

As I drove, the light of my bike was illuminating the thick snowflakes brightly.

It was almost sublime. No, it WAS sublime.  Just the sound of my breath, and the tires crunching through the whiteness, as I made my way through time and space and the falling snow.  All the while, the beam of light illuminating the snowflakes against the darkness of early morning.

It was, and I remember thinking this to this day, as if a person on a spaceship sees stars rushing by as he or she races across the galaxies.  Like Captain Kirk steering the Enterprise, I was steering my own little cosmic craft at that moment, though a milky way, made of stars.

Because that’s what it seemed like: stars!

Stars… moving at you.  Or you… moving through space and time… among the stars.


Today I know:  We are these stars, and the stars are us – in some divine cosmic dance.

It is just like that quote in “2001, Space Odyssey” expresses that amazement so well:  “My god, it’s full of stars!”

And I thought that was the end of it.  But then something else happened.  After dropping off my wife, it was just 8AM and I drove to a local restaurant for a leisurely Sunday breakfast.   That is where I wrote up the above text, and then relaxed and read some more in the book I mentioned at the beginning, Herman Hesse's "the glass bead game," which is all about weaving different contexts together -- just as I am trying to do here.  I did so for about an hour or so.  All the while there is the normal sort of background music, some hip-hop, house-music,  whatever.  It all just stayed in the background for me.

Until a song came on.  And I could not pull myself away from it, but I had to listen.   

This is the second time this happened in three days.  The other time was just on Friday, when my wife and I were sitting in a café.  While we were talking about deep issues of life after Heather’s death, gentle music was playing in the background. For two hours I barely noticed.  Until a song came on, and I could concentrate no longer.  I had to listen.   I mean, I had to!  And as I looked up the lyrics (thank you, smartphone) it all fit, as if Heather had sent a message to my wife right then and there.

And now I got that same feeling.  I had to listen! It’s all I could do.  And the song talked about time, and dawn, and stars, and merging with it all.  Much related to what I had just written about.

Again I pulled up the lyrics on my phone.   It was a Song by James Blunt: “High” (or “Beautiful dawn”).  

To me, this is beautiful poetry.  

I can’t say why, but it fit in that moment.   Maybe it expresses the wonder of it all so well, lyrically, in a  way only a great artist can, of snowflakes, each unique, that were like stars, and chasing time, and running wild among the stars, and melting with the stars.

For what it’s worth, the song had a deep emotional impact on me.  It still does. It made the abstract thought palatable.  That’s what great art does.  It conveys not just words, but emotions.

Try it on yourself, and see what it does for you.  Here it is, below.  

Thank you James Blunt.  I bow to a great artist.

High, by James Blunt.

Beautiful dawn- lights up the shore for me
There is nothing else in the world
I'd rather wake up and see (with you)
Beautiful dawn- I'm just chasing time again
Thought I would die a lonely man, in endless night

But now I'm high; running wild among all the stars above
Sometimes it's hard to believe you remember me

Beautiful dawn (beautiful dawn)- melt with the stars again
Do you remember the day when my journey began?
Will you remember the end (of time)?

Beautiful dawn (beautiful dawn)
You're just blowing my mind again
Thought I was born to endless night, until you shine

High; running wild among all the stars above
Sometimes it's hard to believe you remember me

Will you be my shoulder when I'm grey and older?
Promise me tomorrow starts with you
Getting high; running wild among all the stars above
Sometimes it's hard to believe you remember me

Cry; running wild among all the stars above
Sometimes it's hard to believe you remember me

(Video link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9LopyqdzIw )

Now, if I could only figure out why I feel so compelled to play the Eagle’s “Tequila sunrise” over and over again the last few days…   “Tequila sunrise?”  Another dawn?  Another high?  Another shot of courage?

But that’s another story.  Maybe?

Namaste — I bow to you and the Divine in you.

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