The Casino and the Chapel

I clearly recall my first experience in a casino.  We were visiting relatives in Nevada; when they discovered that I had never set foot in a casino, they were quite sure I was in for a treat -- they would take us to a casino.  Upon entering the door, I was immediately overwhelmed by the cacophony of sounds and the confusion of blinking lights.  The darkened environment infused with artificiality reminded me of the famous bar scene from Star Wars, a scene which invoked in me a sense of fear, strangeness, and danger.

In fact, my immediate reaction to the casino experience was one of fear; it seemed to me that the casino was designed to rob people of their sense of reality and peace, to place them in an environment of artificial excitement, to overwhelm their senses so that they would literally "lose their minds" and all the inhibitions of rational thought.  I could not wait to get out of that place!

If we compare the casino experience to that of our reaction upon entering a small chapel, a beautiful church, an art gallery, viewing the Grand Canyon, or walking along a seashore, the differences are startling.  When we view the grandeur of nature in a sunset, or even the play of light upon leaves in a forest, our immediate response is often a whisper, if we are with a companion.  We fall still, better to absorb the beauty.  The thought of the "bing-bing-bing" of a hundred slot machines in nature is actually blasphemous!  We tread softly, humbly, respectfully, not daring to intrude on the silence that speaks so loudly to our souls in the presence of beauty and peace.

Last week, I visited the Ohr-O'Keefe Museum on the Gulf Coast, a place where the work of different artists is displayed in separate "pods," or buildings.  In the first pod, the beautiful work of a sculptor was displayed.  As I entered the pod, the docent immediately greeted me and began to explain the work, piece by piece.  On and on she talked, giving me the history, the background, the methods, etc. of the sculptor, along with other useless information about his other exhibits.  While trying to be helpful, her words so interfered with my experience of the exhibit that I could not wait to get out of there.  How could she not realize that true art and beauty naturally evokes silence and awe?  By giving me her knowledge and understanding, she deprived me of my own "mystical" experience!

In the next pod, the docent, a young man, greeted me and silently handed me a one-page flyer about the artist and his work.  Then he respectfully backed away, leaving me to view the exhibit in silence.  It was not long before I was moved to tears by the feelings that surfaced in me as I silently and reverently viewed the works of art.  This artist spoke to me in the silence, more powerfully than words ever could!  Having been so moved by what my mind could not entirely process, I turned to the docent to ask some questions.  Again, he directed me to a binder on display which explained in words and pictures some of the "story" behind the artist and his work, but he allowed me to softly turn the pages and read what I chose, skipping the things that did not interest me. 

The latter docent did not try to control my experience; he gave me as much as I wanted, but allowed me to struggle with my own understanding and emotions.  The result was that I fell in love with the work and with the person who had fashioned it out of his own mind and heart.  I had a "mystical" experience -- one that my left-brain eventually wanted to shape into words and understanding, but which had emerged out of my entire intuitive experience: mind, body, emotions, soul, and spirit!

When my husband and I looked for our retirement home on the Gulf Coast, we deliberately stayed away from those cities which had casinos.  Even if one does not attend the casino, the external environment is heavily influenced by the presence of a casino -- the traffic, the constant stream of visitors, the flashing lights competing for attention on building facades, etc.  There is an atmosphere around casinos that does not allow for silence and reverence -- the chapel experience.  Even before one reaches the casino itself, the statues and décor of casino hotels often bespeak the decadence and pleasures of the flesh that draw us away from the silence of the spirit within.

Our world today blares "more, better, brighter, more exiting, more stimulating, more graphic, more violent." There is hardly any room for silence and stillness -- and yet, our spirits crave mysticism.  Tomorrow, I will write about the beauty of silence.