-Even with my bedroom window opened, the summer night was uncommonly silent. Mother Nature must have demanded silence as she planned her next day’s agenda for all of her creatures remained mute with even the crickets foregoing their usual late night communications. Unable to sleep, I was sitting alone at the computer desk in my bedroom, casually surfing the Web when the silence was broken. My guitar, which was propped up against the wall some twelve-fifteen feet away from me, gently emitted the pure sound of each string being played in evenly spaced sequence: E A D G B E. Each note, free from the slight reverberation that is the result of fingers or a pick hitting the metal strings, was as pure as an angel’s kiss. The unexpected sequence of chaste sounds, lasting no more than a few seconds, left me stunned and the event was so far out of my comfort zone, my mind apparently decided it was best not to seek a rational answer to an irrational event.
-My late wife was driving alone one night when she noticed that a car had accidentally driven down a steep ravine - that at the top of the hill were ambulances, police cars, a tow truck and a small group of curious onlookers. My wife began to drive away from the scene when a deep bass voice from the empty back seat of her car boomed out, “You know her!” For whatever reason, although startled, she chose to ignore the voice until it rang out a second time, “You know her!”. Now filled with curiosity, she found a parking spot, walked to the scene of the accident and found out that the injured party was that of our daughter’s best friend. She later related the story to me; then chose to forget the incident, treating it as just a minor speed bump on the highway of her life.
Events such as the ones related in the previous two examples are not that rare. My memory bank has stored a number of these irrational and unexplainable occurrences and I believe if you examined your life, you would remember similar situations that befell you. On a more epic scale, life is full of these annoying speed bumps: crop circles, UFO sightings, things that go bump in the night. All capture our imagination for a moment, then are lost in the day-to-day rush hour traffic of our daily lives.
Who can define with certainty the origin of these mysteries? Certainly not I. Are they messages from spirit guides, earthbound spirits, visitors from other galaxies or simply self-inflicted messages born from the 80% of our brains that we have not yet learned how to fully utilize or understand? I’ll know the answer soon enough, I suppose. When I do, I’ll get back to you. When you hear me, I hope you'll take the time to listen. I don't want to be remembered as just another speed bump.
Copyright February 2010 - phil cerasoli
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