The Rip Van Winkle image made me cringe. Snow White with her white hair appeals more to nearly fifty-five-year-old-going-on-white-hair me.
As I continued cleaning Friday, I came across what I purchased the day Maryann shared her 'seeing' with me. That same day my neighbor Judy asked if I would take her to Goodwill. I'm all about spontaneity so I agreed. As I stood with Judy at the checkout counter, there it was, the book intended for me: Snow-White and the Seven Dwarfs.*
As you probably know but I didn't due to my 'sleep,' Snow White is filled with symbology. At least in the book from Goodwill her look is somewhat plain. Her hair is not white. And she went into her sleep three separate times.
Inside I smiled, as I perused the book. The pictures brought
I love tending my home although it is far from neat as the dwarfs also requested. But there is something about vacuuming, cooking, washing and even at times dusting that brings me deep joy. I read this paragraph and knew why. I do these things, that many call chores and today relegate to housekeepers, because as Snow-White said I do them "with all my heart."
I moved on with my cleaning. Under some books by my bed was a cassette tape. Remember those? I slipped it into the cassette player (another relic from the past) and dusted our bedroom to "The Four Seasons." Then I turned it up louder and vacuumed. This cassette came into my possession around the same time I got the book. It was in a hand held recorder that I purchased at a yard sale for a few bucks. When I offered the cassette back to the seller, he said I could keep it.
Classical music has partially been responsible for awakening me. Thanks to the Giancarlo Guerrero and the Nashville symphony, I've discovered something that wasn't accessible during music appreciation class or was missed in my 'sleep.' I played that cassette and cleaned.
Later Friday afternoon I called about getting a spontaneous hair cut. This wasn't in my plan nor in Gary's but he said graciously agreed to my coming over. We bantered and laughed as is common in Gary's chair and at one point he said, "Dawn, you're just like Snow White."
I didn't tell him I really am. Nor did I know that over the coming weekend numerous Apple store employees would be my seven dwarfs. I didn't clean and cook for the Apple employees nor did they offer me an apple to eat. They offered me a home of sorts off and on over five hours while determining what was wrong with my new mac. My Apple experience ultimately was similar to Snow-White's as it prompted my own kind of reawakening. (But that's another story).
As for Friday's synchronicities, I didn't consider them further until this morning when I opened the local news to see "The Four Seasons" referenced. (A friend asked me just last week why we still get the Tennessean. I often learn about history which is something I missed in my sleep.)
Frank Daniels III ** shared the following on this Vivaldi's birthday. This is a distillation of what was written:
Born in Venice in 1678, Vivaldi became a priest at 25. He left this position a year later to teach violin to girls at a local orphanage where nobility sent their children from extramarital affairs. These girls were renowned for their music. I find this beautiful on a deep level. It is possible these girls separated from their parents and feeling shame through no doings of their own, except their souls choosing to be born, could have experienced the glorious joy that comes from making music with stringed instruments.
By his early 40's Vivaldi was popular throughout Europe's capitals yet at his death twenty years later he was nearly forgotten.
Close to two hundred years later, a music professor at the University of Turin found much of Vivaldi's music in storage. It was revived in 1951 at the Festival of Britain. Now Vivaldi is considered the Master of the Baroque.
On this still wintry March morning in Nashville, I played "The Four Seasons" again and this time thought of beauty and synchronicity in finding and feeling Snow White and Vivaldi.
I considered the beauty and grace in many of these orphaned girls possibly relieved of shame and finding their heart's connection through music's stringed instruments. Isn't it profound that Vivaldi's spirit and music were revived after two hundred years? And I must admit I still smile remembering Gary's excited words to me as he cut my hair: "You are Snow White!"
Yet equally and possibly most beautiful grace-filled is that on a collective level we can fall asleep repeatedly and awaken again and again through common cast off things like my treasures from a yard sale and Goodwill.
I love how Mystery's messages arrive. I want to be a Master of Listening and Paying Attention. Sleep for me is at least a part of this. To really know what it is like to awaken, I have to first experience sleep and learn to discern how 'spells' are cast on me. These are usually cast by my forgetting that I am Snow White.
Contrary to what Hollywood and pop culture suggests, being a princes isn't a looks thing. Being a princess is a being thing which in turn impacts how we do everything.
I suspect Vivaldi and the orphaned girls experienced what Snow-White and I feel when cleaning.
Snow-White cleaned with all her heart.
Whatever you do, do it with an open heart and with all your heart.
This is the Shift that I continue to live and re-learn day after day
for it is never too late to Wake Up!
for it is never too late to Wake Up!
-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 4 March 2014
* This translation is written by Randall Jarrell and illustrated by Nancy Ekholm Burkert.
** Frank Daniels III writes for the Tennessean. The full Vivaldi piece can be found by clicking on Mr. Daniels' name in the above piece.