It’s been nearly two months that Einat and I have been living in the desert in the South of Israel. Here in a tiny village out in the middle of nowhere, there is nothing but a handful of houses, a few dogs and cats, two donkeys, a camel. The house we’re staying in overlooks the open desert hills to the east. Every morning, we take in a breathtaking sunrise over the red mountains right in front of us. There are no shops, cafes or restaurants close by, but there is something here that is truly valuable for me in this time: no distractions.
The rhythm of life in the desert is slow and simple. We get up with the sun, do our morning practice, take care of office work, play music, cook, eat, go for a walk, rest and go to bed early. Slowly, day by day, the quietude and calmness of the desert sinks in and brings a stronger feeling of centeredness, a feeling of home within. There is plenty of space all around us, an emptiness that allows my mind to relax. I can engage in an inner dialogue that is calm, clear and with a grander perspective.
Being here helps me realize how important it is for me to unplug from the collective, from the news and the constantly growing buzz of modern life, from the sheer insane overload of information. I get sucked in so easily, especially into the news and global matters. 2019 was a challenging year; in a way it went smooth but there was a growing sense of unease within, an anxiety about where humanity is going. Adamus’ ProGnost 2020 message brought some clarity, but not much relief.
Here in the desert it is easier to sense the grander perspective of all that’s going on, as well as the realization process that is happening within. There is no urge here to run, to strive, to want to achieve. Rather I feel a very strong sense of being, and of achieving something really meaningful by simply being present. Somehow things just fall into place, ideas flourish, the music comes with ease and, if issues arise, I simply deal with them rather than being consumed by them.
Sometimes I can be very moody – that’s at least how I excuse my off-days – and become uncommunicative and antisocial. But here in the desert there’s not much reason for that. The surrounding land is calm, the colors are soft, the shapes are very clear, there is plenty of silence, and nothing really supports drama, as if there is no place for it to connect.
When you walk in the desert, the dimensions of the landscape shift constantly and every turn into a new valley or around the next hill opens up a completely new perspective and view. The silence is enveloping; you hear every step you make, as if in a frozen landscape. There are no other sounds, only a vast silence, a void.
There’s something epic about being in the desert, something timeless, mysterious and grand. Maybe it’s the nothingness. If you don’t look closely, there is nothing for the senses to comprehend, and they can expand. And, on the contrary, every little thing becomes more special; every shape, color, pattern of rock, plant, flower, and pool of water reveals its essence and becomes meaningful. You become meaningful.
When there are less distractions, I start perceiving other dimensions. I can more easily dive into the multiple layers of reality and expand with my being. Usually, part of my morning routine is a toning session – breathing, toning and communing through music. The sound is like a gateway that leads into multiple dimensions. While engaging in the music, singing, and listening to my own voice, something naturally shifts in my consciousness. The sound comfortably enables an expanded state of being and opens up that inner space of communing, making it easier to penetrate into the essence of things. I love to tone and commune with the desert, for in doing so I gain clarity, new perspective, vision and moments of realization.
Am I realized? Usually I don’t ask myself this question. I know that I’ve had many ‘moments of realization’ during my life, moments of bliss and surrender, remembering my true being. In those mystical moments, all doubt ceases and there is an overwhelming sense of completion. Usually there is a voice within saying “I’ll never forget that!” – and then of course, I forget. We all do, until we don’t.
Those moments of small enlightenments pass, but they are like drops that slowly fill the cup, at least that’s how it feels to me. Slowly the balance between the emptiness and the fullness shifts and I feel more realized. I trust what Adamus says about realization being natural; just let it happen, no big deal. It just seems hard for the human to fully accept its perfection.
While I sit here writing, I look out through the front window of our living room and feel enchanted by a desert freshly painted by the late afternoon sun. “Timeless beings in timeless places,” says a voice from within. And the desert echoes with a gentle, silent breeze.
Gerhard Fankhauser, or Master G, as Adamus calls him, is a master musician from Austria and founder of the musical group Yoham. He is an accomplished guitarist, song writer, overtone singer and an inspiring teacher with a deep passion for the timeless mysteries of music. He has worked with the Crimson Circle since 2007 and facilitates a musical safe space during many live events. He has created various recordings of ‘new energy music,’ co-created many merabhs with Adamus and his music has become an integral part of the journey of Shaumbra.
Contact Gerhard via email or visit his website oryom-music.com
Articles photos by Gerhard Fankhauser