It seems to me that some people are particularly tuned into birdsong and to others, it seems, the behaviour of birds is quite irrelevant…unnoticed, like its not even there. As one of those who pays close attention, I’ve come to know birdsong as a seventh dimensional “thing” (more on why later), this frequency which birds seem to translate and give voice to, bringing it into three-dimensional space where those who are wired to tune in to it do so and to the rest it is, I suppose, just white noise. Or, sometimes, people who used to be oblivious suddenly start to pay attention; perhaps after they stop having to be so consumed with the material reality that used to keep their senses fully occupied; and here they are, now, saying “did you just hear that bird?” with wonderment in their voice, like its the first time they ever noticed. It makes me smile when this happens; like the particular frequency of birdsong penetrates their awareness…and their process of awakening suddenly takes off; being just the beginning of noticing many things that have always been there, in plain view.
Its not that anyone lacks the ability to notice all this birdsong going on but, in some cases, it simply doesn’t garner their attention at all or (I know of such a case) they simply find it annoying. Whereas, for some of us, birds and their antics are some of the most meaningfully high-vibe things going on around us, lifting our mood; which is also why our own vibe can fluctuate according to the rhythms of bird behaviour. Over the course of the last decade, I came to notice how the seasonal disorder I used to suffer from so badly in the darkness of winter was, really, as much to do with the availability (or lack thereof) of birdsong as of natural daylight. My heart still gets gloomy in the winter when its all but absent; and its like I’m born again when the dawn chorus starts to swell and the evening rooftop chorus resumes at the beginning of springtime. Yet I have also noticed how there seems to be more birdsong all year around now; or, I suspect, I am tuning to it more and not requiring such a chorus of it to gain the full benefit.
Sometimes when I realise I don’t like a particular place, almost like my hair stands on end, part of it is the absence of birdsong; something which seems to pre-warn me that I’m out of resonance with this place and don’t want to hang around there (particularly if its on a summer’s day). And it interests me the way that they go quiet before the breaking of a storm (or an earthquake); during that same electrically charged phase when my own sensory cues are telling me something is about to happen, often long before anyone else seems to notice. I suspect this is to to with those same ultraound frequencies I wrote about just recently, which the planet omits under certain electromagnetically charged circumstances and which have been demonstrated to generate feelings plus certain physical symptoms of forboding in animals and people. How eerie is the sound of a sky without any sign of birds; and if that were to ever happen, I suspect all of us would somehow sense we were doomed. Also, why is it that, with ever increasing accuracy over the last decade, I wake just before the dawn chorus, with enough time to rub my eyes and sit up a little in bed (also, my most creative time); am I somehow anticipating it like our bodies remember the time of our alarm clock, even at the weekends, or do I respond to the same frequency that gets the birds up and singing?
As per my recent post about last week’s trip to Glastonbury, a bird’s song can work with me like an affirmative of what I’m experiencing when I’m having an other-dimensional experience, which happened to me, again, just yesterday as I was doing some work to clear a place with an incredibly heavy energy, a Roman amphitheatre where so many horses bones have been unearthed (and yes, its always oddly devoid of bird life). Since becoming more sensitive over the last five years or so, I have tended to avoid this place, though its part of one of the circuits I regularly walk, because it drops my vibe or makes my skin prickle…but, on an impulse, I decided to go in there to do some healing work on that vibe yesterday and a robin flew in and sang to me, just as the energy of the whole space felt more lifted and balanced at the very end. In many ways, it felt like a joint effort!
What’s with all this dimensional stuff, why do I have to make this about anything but the three dimensional experience of birds, you might ask?
Because there is something otherworldly about the frequency of birdsong and I feel like I’ve known that all of my life. They lift me up…not just to my highest 3D potential but far beyond that to somewhere outside all the convolution of the five-sensory world. An understanding of this has been there for me since the very earliest days of my life, for which I have my father to thank. Being a man of few words (unless he caught onto the tail feather of one of his enthusiasms), we would often sit side-by-side in the garden, even on a winter’s day (me just wanting to spend time with him any way I could) and we would close our eyes and just listen to the birdsong for what felt like hours; so that the song of those childhood birds, including the odd clicks and swoops of starlings, which we seldom get where I now live, are some of my very favourite things to this day. It helped me through some enormously difficult times to have this friendly soundtrack to my life “playing” in the background during my school years. The ethereal song of blackbirds on the rooftops in summer, particularly, transports me to another place.
In fact, a few years ago, I had the impulse to create a playlist of over an hour’s worth of blackbird song and listening to this helped to tune up my vibration at times when I was really struggling with the darker days, the pain I was in and my lack of energy or enthusiasm for life. I also love to find others who are musically or artistically inclined and who are on this same wavelength with me. Music artists that incorporate bird song in their tracks have been amongst my favourites all my life. My very favourite recording artist since I was eight years old, Kate Bush, created a double album Aerial whose second part is infused with bird song and it is, to this day, one of the most uplifting and heart-resonant pieces of music I ever listen to, stirring me so deeply that I can put it on over and over again, trusting it to transport me when I most need it to.
Oh the dawn has come
And the song must be sung
And the flowers are melting
What kind of language is this?
All the birds are laughing
Come on lets join in
(Aerial, Kate Bush)
The Aerial album was released in the autumn of 2005, the very time when my health was utterly collapsing around me in the most frightening way and it kept me holding on to some semblance of optimism over what felt like a very challenging winter during which my morale was at an all-time low. Its back on my favourite play-list right now and I can’t seem to get enough of it, especially the live interpretation of it on Bush’s album Before the Dawn, which is a goosebump inducing performance and I only wish I could have been there for that rare concert (which I tried, with so many other people, to get tickets for). The title of that 22-day concert in 2014, a milestone event given how rare it is for the famously introverted Bush to perform live (it had been over 30 years) is so apt when on the subject of birds…and, like any bird that is economical in its song or who gives the sense of choosing its moment, everyone paid such attention to the fact she was coming out to do this performance at this particular time. Why, as ever, do I get the feeling Bush is on the same wavelength as I am, heralding something optimistic coming in, dark though it still seems.
Because, have you ever heard a robin sing his heart out at midnight to the light of a super full moon? I have and it was the most beautiful thing. Or any bird that sings when it’s still pitch dark; one of the most exquisite and optimistic experiences of all; the perfect foil to that “darkest before the dawn” feeling (why do I always get the impression that birds are here expressly to see us through this era in our evolution, like guides along the path). When that happens, you just know somehow that it was a “change in the air” (not the quality of the light) that got him out of bed. I’ve noticed for such a long time how those high-frequency “events” that I have become so sensitive to, which space weather often mirrors as geomagnetic events played out in our atmosphere, create a hullabaloo in bird-land. They sing more, they eat more, they congregate more, including many different species passing through, at different times of today, like an impromptu celebration of the unseen coming in. After all, this celebration is something they practice, day after day after day, heralding the sun before it has delivered its first light…
“Something is coming, something is coming, the light is coming, a new start is coming!” Perhaps, by giving voice to what they know most humans remain unaware of at the conscious level, they amplify this, to make it audible to the base senses most rely on and, at least, give them a better feeling about life, if not the overwhelming sense of optimism I seem to be party to. They certainly hold a high frequency for the planet; whether noticed or not, and I am convinced this is important work to do, as it is for all of us that attune to any of the higher dimensions and then bring those frequencies through, by whatever means we have (our special gift) to help make them more available to other people. Those of us who choose to give these high frequencies voice through art and song are doing work that is as crucial as any other, more physically active or provocative, tasks in the world and the birds remind me to pay homage to my own innate traits (and drop all the endless comparisons with other people). We each work to our own particular skillset, just as a bird is extremely good at being…guess what…a bird (which, by now, I hope you agree, is no small or insignificant task).
Its nothing new that birds are geomagnetically sensitive, using this to navigate, but the sheer depth of their awareness is hardly understood at all; and I can relate to that, being so bafflingly GM sensitive myself that I struggle to explain it to myself, let alone any one else. So I could even say that I’ve turned to birds for a better understanding of myself across all these years of most-bizarre health symptoms; and they help me feel more at peace with awarenesses I have that might otherwise seem uncomfortably out of the ordinary.
So it’s really helped me to consider that the same super-sensitivity to frequencies that can, often, be so uncomfortable in my body, links me to the same higher-frequencies that generate beautiful bird song. If I could have some of what they have, please, instead of the pain, perhaps I too could create something really beautiful (which, as an artist, has been a prime motivator for as long as I can remember; you could say, my dharma). I know that if I could just trust to, and celebrate, the higher frequencies I receive and weather the 3D ups and downs of the rest of life’s experiences, like a bird does, I would do much better…so what else can they teach me? I’m still taking their cue and its an ongoing task; entitling me to spend even more time in my happy place, surrounded by birds. I won’t be the first spiritually focused person to do so…
They say that Saint Francis (one of my favourites, as saints go) “preached to the birds”; I would say, more likely, he listed to them, given he spent such valuable time with them, even when he could have been out amongst the throng doing more worldly deeds. He clearly placed great value on time spent with other creatures, for all he was a man on a mission.
The same goes for me; I never feel that time spent with the birds is wasted or decadent in any way. On the contrary, it has taught me so much. These last years, during which I have spent most of my time alone, have never felt lonely in the company of birds; however others may raise a cynical eyebrow, as though I am losing my marbles. In fact, finding others who feel likewise has helped to put me in touch with my 7D frequency tribe…
So lets get onto that seventh dimensional thing I mentioned above. According to Barbara Hand Clow, in one of my favourite books, The Alchemy of Nine Dimensions:
“The seventh dimension is a realm of cosmic sound which generates the 6d geometric forms by vibrational resonance….In the Milky Way comic sound travels within the great 7D photon belts that structure the galaxy itself. Within the photon bands “thought waves of light” step down in octaves into lower frequency 7D sound waves…Since sound waves are lower frequency than light waves, these sing the Divine Mind”. (Barabara Hand Clow – The Alchemy of Nine Dimensions)
She goes on to talk about how these sound waves generate parallel possibilities or “synchronicities” in 3D. I could write a whole book on how many synchronistic experiences I have had relating to birds (again, see this week’s post on my visit to the Glastonbury’s chalice well for one such). These occurrences don’t feel like mere coincidence of a “nice finishing touch” to a subjective experiences I am having so much as a nod from a higher dimension that I am on the right track!
Thus, as ever, paying attention to…or tuning into…bird life does not feel, in any way, like a lonely person’s hobby or a sign that I have too little to occupy myself but, rather, that I am tuning into a higher frequency that is on course to transform my whole experience of the 3D; as it already has.
Hand Clow goes on to elaborate, in a way that I won’t spoil by paraphrasing fully, how working with the seventh dimension puts us in touch with a similar solar system and even a twin planet, within the galaxy Andromeda; one which is the same as ours except that it didn’t have a cataclysmic event occur 11,5000 years ago, which lies at the very core of all human trauma (thus, the separation mentality at the root of all our current issues; a topic I have written about copiously before). You could say, by tuning into its undistorted biological codes and undamaged DNA, we get to recalibrate to the benchmark of a whole other potential.
The reason I have brought up all of this is that, not only does Hand Clow relate the seventh dimensions to the cosmic sound wave but, specifically, to bird song and behaviours; something which, as I first read it several years ago, made me almost jump out of my seat as I felt its confirmation of something I already knew somehow. According to her, birds are agents of the communication system of the galaxy:
“In 3D we get threads of this system through birdsong. Have you ever wondered how birds migrate? They orient by galactic energy lines, which they follow in earth’s magnetic fields….The Divine Mind moves energy within gravitational fields, while birds hear this movement and mimic it by their flight and song. Because we are filled with grace, birds enhance our creativity…When you attain this consciousness, birdsong informs you in the way no language can…Birdsong and sacred music pull us beyond duality and attune us to high celestial frequencies, which draw our consciousness to the outer edges of earth’s gravitational field…Sacred sound quickens and thickens the healthy biological mist”. (Barara Hand Clow – The Alchemy of Nine Dimensions)
No wonder listening to birds feels like it recalibrates, thus, heals me! I have certainly worked with sacred music and other sounds (such as mantra, solfeggio tones and crystal therapies) a great deal over the course of my life and, especially, during my healing journey but the healing music that has been with me, through thick and thin, is birdsong. It’s just so fit for pupose…this thing…without anyone having to compose the right collection of notes to put together or to choose a particular instrument, singing bowl or combination thereof to create a heightened experience (as the church has worked so hard with for centuries) or to rebuild DNA, a whole new area of study. There’s literally no work involved in birdsong except to open-up to receiving it. Even the birds themselves seem to find it effortless, like they just dial into the higher frequency and open their throats. You don’t get the sense they are deciding to put this trill here or that twiddle there; they express as they find, much as I do when I’m in my most creative flow. Which is why creating art as pure expression and without any material agenda, except to make a frequency (or feeling) more manifest, is my happiest place; my dharma (or life purpose) again.
A woman who talks a great deal about New Time “dharma” (versus old time “karma”) is Anni Sennov, the woman behind AuraTransformation, which I wrote about last week. In the book I’m rereading at the moment, The Crystal Human and the Crystalisation Process Part 1, she shares this about the seventh dimension:
“In the 7th dimension Crystal Individuals and Humans have settled as artists and have managed to share their inner truth in a visible form. In addition, this category includes sales people and messengers of all kinds, who have consciously dedicated their lives to communicating information about a certain topic, a certain lifestyle or religion etc”
Why am I not surprised that this sounds a lot like me with my tireless writing, sharing and creating, none of it done in a truly commercial sense; all done for love of delivering a certain message…I’m a bird by any other name. The need and desire to express myself, even when hardly anyone seems to be paying attention, is very much the domain of birds; they require no audience. And the more I tune into those high-frequencies, the more I seem to have to say…though, perhaps, the more niche my audience is getting; so I am having to learn to live with that and do it anyway.
The seventh dimension is also, I suspect, about being impulsive, following the pipers call…just as birds will teach you to ad-lib and improvise…and that is me to a tee now, though I used to seem quite the opposite; mapped-out to the nth. I never used to see myself as “flighty” but, these days, I commit to nothing except that I will show up and do my very best in any given moment, and I follow my whims in matters large and small. Like today when I was meant to be going out but, suddenly, put my coat down and started gardening because I felt I wanted to prune some plants (act on that first flush of enthusiasm, I have learned from the seventh dimension; it will seldom serve you wrong). My family have had to get used to these sudden tangents of mine; knowing, too, that they often lead us all towards having an incredible experience that we could never have planned for (like I heard the higher potential calling to me on the wind). Living according to impulse is such a big part of this frequency and it cuts through stuffy old habits like the trill of exquisite bird song cuts through the stupor of an otherwise unexceptional afternoon. Like the first skylark of the year, which stopped me in my tracks and elevated my whole day on my walk, earlier. In fact, just thinking about birds, writing all this (as I was all morning) seemed to elevate my walk, when I got to it (my garden pruners put aside…), leading me to instigate two amazing conversations with complete strangers (a group of women and a solitary man) on my walk, waxing lyrical and sharing intimacies about the place we were all in (which I love more than any other) and leaving all of us a little more radiant for the exchange. All of these people vowed to come back for the summer solstice, which I spend there, so it seems I have, uncharacteristically, set up a rendezvous. I also see how, when I tune to this vibe, I touch-upon some, as yet, bearly explored potential I have as vocal (as well as written or painted) inspiration…which, given how introverted I naturally am, is interesting to behold.
A very literal way that I suspect am I “hearing” something of what the birds hear are the incredibly high frequencies – or higher harmonics – that I have been experiencing as loud ringing in the ears for some time now, and very loudly for the past 6 months. These, at times, get close to driving me mad with their intensity…yet, even with this, my bird-training serves me well. Just as I’ve learned to tune into bird song as a way of tuning-out the ever-increasing noise pollution of 21st century living, not least the ever-higher volumes of traffic that now rumbles past my house, I find that I can tune in or out of these sounds as much as any others…even when they are most intense. I’ll be honest, there have even been times when tuning in to them has been preferable to whatever else is on offer; like my own personal holding frequency. So, while they don’t go anywhere when I “turn them off” (and are always waiting just as soon as I put my attention back on them), it’s as if they are not there at all when I place my consciousness on other things, allowing them to raise my frequency to a higher level (as I believe is their purpose) in the background, without my interference.
Yet I no longer see any of these higher frequencies as something “coming in” but as something that is already there and fully available, only it is being paid attention to more (at last) by me and many others. In noticing and being inspired by this “bird frequency”, I’m daring to see, and express, a potential that was always there and perhaps the birds come from this place too. Nothing, to them, is missing; they aren’t caught up in paralytic trauma at the state of our broken world; rather, they are all busying themselves in my garden and on my walks as they always do, excitable as ever as they flit from tree to tree, singing their hearts out, poised to build nests and begin the whole merry cycle again, as they do every spring. In fact, their numbers only seem to swell in my garden; with ever more variety showing up and increased trust and intimacy with me, their human host, each season. So, is this blissful ignorance or higher knowledge? Their language of behaviour speaks to me, in pulsations, of other dimensional things beyond the seeming mess of the 3D world. For me, as for them, the song goes on and only gets stronger and more robust. It’s a song that is under the directive of the divine master-planner, whatever “form” you think that takes, and nothing can stop its performance. People refer to a “secret language” of birds but maybe we all speak it; we just forgot how…So, perhaps all we need to do is tune into it more than ever and then “sing” our own version of it, whatever form that takes; becoming a veritable dawn chorus of highly-contagious good news ourselves.
Below are two tracks from Kate Bush’s album Aerial, accompanied by some of my favourite interpretations (from MrMarrs who creates some astonishing visuals to music tracks). You will need to watch them over on YouTube as viewing on other websites has been disabled…but its really worth it. I so recommend going on the journey of these two pieces of music and, ideally, (if you haven’t already) listen to the entire second part of the double-album itself. In my view, Aerial contains a fully fledged seventh dimensional narrative for anyone who is open to it.
I’m enjoying reading your posts Helen – this one especially, as the songs of birds, the sounds of nature, the very sound of the cosmos is fundamental to my wellbeing; not always understood and often inadequately expressed; but nonetheless recognised.
The following quotations from W H Hudson and Richard Jefferies say it so much better than I …
… ‘I could hear no other bird [Blackbird]; and the sound coming in at the open window from a distance of but five yards had such a marvellous beauty that I could have wished for no more blessed existence than to lie there, head on pillow, with the pale early light and the perfume of night-flowers in the room, listening to that divine sound’. Adventures with Birds – W H Hudson
‘The fervour of the sunbeams descending in a tidal flood rings on the strung harp of earth. It is this exquisite undertone, heard and yet unheard, which brings the mind into sweet accordance with the wonderful instrument of nature’ – The Life of the Fields’: The Pageant of Summer – Richard Jefferies
That timeless immersion within a ‘spirit of place’ – of total immersion in the natural world – lost in the ‘beauty of the moment’ is life affirming and transcendental.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those of wonderful quotes Clive, I really must delve more into these authors….I’ve just downloaded the Richard Jefferies one, Ive been looking for something less heavy to read for those times just before bed, perhaps dipping into this is it. As ever, thank you for your comment, always appreciated. As I sit here listening to the robin’s evening trill, acknowledging how much I look forward to it, I’m very grateful to have someone at the other end of my blog who understands, as you do, how fundamental these sounds are to our wellbeing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for you comment Helen. If you like the writings of Richard Jefferies and haven’t read his Autobiography – ‘The Story of My Heart’, or ‘Soul Life’, as he originally called it, you may like to look it up. Here is a link:
Click to access Story%20of%20My%20Heart.pdf
First published in 1883, it is an outpouring of Jefferies innermost soul. Opening with a mystical experience on a green hill in the south of England it is the record of the authors striving for ‘soul-life’, for communion with the beauty of nature. In impassioned prose, with echoes of Blake and Shelley, Jefferies relates the history of his feeling of identification with the sun, wind, space and the pulse of natural life. Of ‘Cosmic Conciousness’ – of life above all of human life.
Thank you for that, I felt drawn to it the moment you described his exprience on the hill…have just downloaded that too. Really appreciate these recommendations.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I went out to see the lunar eclipse early in the morning and a blackbird accompanied almost the whole thing. I agree that the world is a different – worse – place without birdsong.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Super full moon tonight…I will have my ears peeled back! Thanks for reading as ever, Andrea.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: The harmonic perspective | spinning the light
Pingback: Rare as gold | spinning the light
Pingback: Shared roots and scattered seeds | spinning the light
Pingback: A Charm of Goldfinches - Helen White