Bells represent in many European civilizations not only musical instruments but also cult objects supposed to gather humans and supernatural creatures. That’s how they became symbols of cults in many traditions.
In Ancient China there were many legends that spoke of bells that could fly towards very specific places and announce, by the sound they would emit, good or bad omens.
In Tibet, they are opposed to the symbol of the diamond and are considered as the feminine and the material world whereas the diamond symbolizes the perfect world.
Now you take the floor : what do you associate with Bells?
Goats and Sheep.
Le Musical “Notre Dame de Paris”
Quasimodo
clarite
ouie
synchronisation
les compagnons de la chanson
se faire sonner les cloches
traditions
une eglise a la campagne
vepres
un signe de vie
retour dans l’enfance
un heureux evenement
“Les trois cloches” Edith Piaf et les Compagnons de la Chanson
“The three bells” subtitles in English
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PGu_9BmigU&feature=related
Dear Karen,
I really liked what you wrote.Very sweet especially the last bit-gifting your friend a crystal bell and for your words!
Love,
Sheela
I think there is a line in an old Broadway show tune, “if I were a bell I’d be ringin’.” Why not ring. For me bells are a celebration of life, church bells calling people to reflect, dinner bells summoning people to gather at table, and the list continues. The Buddhists say that when a bell rings a Buddha is present. When I think of Christmas I think of hand bells, because one Christmas my husband, Stuart, bought a little set of hand bells. He brought them to the dinner table in between dinner and dessert, handing us all a bell to ring in the holiday by playing our part of a Christmas carol. When I first met Stu, he had a little bell on the headboard of his bed. One morning I asked him what he used it for. He said, “I ring it to warn the cats that I’m coming. When they think I’m not watching they like to dance. It embarrasses them to dance in front of humans, but I’ve been lucky enough to catch them a few times.” My grandfather, now 105, has gifted me two bells, one from an old schooner that sailed around New York and the other a brass school bell that the teacher would ring to call the children to school. I have gifted only one bell, a crystal bell. I gave to my friend Ann when she had a cochlear implant so she could hear again. I gave it to her before her operation, saying, “after this you’ll hear as clear as a bell.”
i have a fake dog that was a present almost 4yrs ago for 26th birthday, I named him Bell. Sometimes I feel like he is watching me, keeping me in check, watching over me, providing company.
Bells::Religion as Engagement ring::Lovers
Bells for me symbolize commitment and celebration.
In small towns in the Philippines where the church is pretty much centered, when the bells are rung, everyone knows it is time for praise. Here in Adelaide, the catholic church in the city rings its bell to let the churchgoers know that the mass is about to start and is also heard at some point in the Liturgy of the Eucharist part of the mass.
In weddings, the bells ring to let everyone know that two people successfully united that day in love and commitment of a lifetime.
Bells are also rung to celebrate new year, commemorate an event or it serves a reminder to contemplate on our lives.
Os sinos pra mim tem diversos significados, dependendo do lugar, ritual e tempo dos toques em relação na vida corriqueira tanto quanto no momento de oferecimento espiritual.
Beijos,
Mari
In my home can be found several types of bells. Some of theese are of glass, one is of crystal, those attacked to the lamp of my bedroom are of steel, that attacked to my mobile phone is a little bell and on my bedside table there is my preferred one, a brass little bell that I sound three times in order to call the angels! In my Region there are much big bells on the churchs and some of theese are sound to hand! Exists an ancient foundry in Sicily, in a small town called Burgio (AG), it is property of VIRGADAMO!
I will not never forget the sound about those that I have felt after that I was emerged from cold waters of a nearly magical source where I have made the bath some years ago in January! I don’t know from where that sound came but then a sweet voice of woman has rendered me happy even if I haven’t understood what she had said to me.
Well, since I’m in Romania,Bukarest,I hear with a lot of joy every morning ,church bells!!!My home have arround 20-50 meters 4 churchies(I think N-S-E-W) ,3 rumenien-orthodox and a armenien one!I specificate that because the bells have diferent sounds !However they sounds all beautyful!
Every time i feel the sound of them in my heart!
Since a few years I worck in Vienna with Gong,Zymbellen,and other instruments,and give Gong Baths,and I can say is amazing to have such a experience.
Bells were used to Anounce something!!!I think today was St.Gheorghe fest, in Romania!
I thought a lot before I wrote about it,Weddings have their own sound,Funeralls although,and Comunion or Religious Feast a diferent one!You have to be quite concentrated or only Relaxed and Intuitive to hear what they want to say!
Or maybe,only to hear them is important!I remember now the prolog from your book about the church bells and the woman …I have to go deeper…
Love your explanation Savita Vega,about the association with lingham and yomi! Never thought on this association before in that context!
Love,
Mirela(the woman in elevator)
Dear Cristina,
How strange(or maybe not so strange at all, considering that we are on dearest Paulo’s blog) that you should mention this. I meant to include this in my earlier comment what I am about to share now…so thank you for being the reason.
Years ago,I was being taught the chanting of OM by my Master’s senior-most disciple and we were sitting in His room that evening.
While She chanted OM continuously, I actually heard bells ringing- it was unbelievable! I told Her as much. She didn’t reply and we continued with the chanting.
Whoever told you that about the primeval sound OM was right. But as for the Big Bang theory,well, that’s the scientists’ version…
Do you believe now because I am saying this? It is said in the Hindu texts that you should test everything to seek the truth,to find your own answers – it is your search,your quest alone. It’s got to be a part of your own experience.If you don’t see or hear something immediately , it does not mean it does not exist.
Love,
Sheela
For whom the bell tolls a poem
(No man is an island) by John Donn
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
I also remember the Hemingway’s novel!
I associate bells with the mysteries..
Wedding joyful sounds and the sad sounds of a funeral..
Santa Claus’s bells ..
The old bell – before electricity took its place – that was announcing at school the beginning and end of lessons ..
Oh those ..ringings for the intervals.. in the school-yard, meaning playing with our friends or .. flirting with the .. boys in the opposite yard and in between the .. fence!! Romantic times..
LOVE,
Thelma.
Since you mentioned diamonds: Wedding :-)
But also regular services in the church.
The sound of bells has particular frequences that calm human soul.
I was told (I don’t know if it’s really true), that in the world there is still an echo of the Creation (Big Bang), that produces the sound OHM (like the one pronounced in mantras.
So bells could have particular frequences that reminds us sometihing positive.
I’d like to know if this is true.
have a nice day.
Bells summon spirit/consciousness/awareness. By their summoning they liberate from preoccupation.
The sound of freedom
He gipsy woman,
put on your bracelets
and dance.
Let the waves of you skirt
hypnotize the crowd.
Stamp your feet.
Let your bells
pass the message of the universe.
Dance.
So we can follow.
mostly wedding day bells, but also the Sunday morning service in my village church… by the river Cam, Cambridge ;o)
ringing in the people from the village to the church.
Christmas the same church goers would use hand bells for a beautiful melody..
then the single bell
for a memorial service, a funeral..
the poem by John Donne
For whom the bell tolls..
“No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promonotory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.”
(1624, J. Donne)
Bells remind me of prayer. Praying at my granny’s little temple in her home. When I was a little child I would often be around my gran and inevitably would be called to pray with her when she did her evening prayers. As she sang hymns in tamil (an indian language) she would ask that I sound her little brass bell, which I willingly did. Now I realise that the significance of the bell is to cleanse and sanctify the air/space in which you pray and live, and to alert the mind to divinity, to help us concentrate on the purpose of prayer. When I was little the tinkling sound was just fun and a way for me to participate in ritual. Love and light to all….
Bells ….. wake up sleepy head ;-)
And also ..come in and eat :-)
When I was young my mum used a bell when we where out and played and we where to far away to hear her shout, then she used the bell and me and my sister felt embarresed by this *LOL*
Love Jessica
underwater ship wrecks I imagine, or the bells situated on the breton coastline.
Ding, dong, bell,
Pussy’s in the well.
Who put her in?
Little Johnny Green.
Who pulled her out?
Little Tommy Stout.
What a naughty boy was that,
To try to drown poor pussy cat,
Who never did him any harm,
And killed the mice in his father’s barn.
In recognition of this week’s free association on bells, I’d like to share a little account of an experience that I once had:
A number of years ago, probably about ten years ago now, a friend of mine told me, “Oh, there is this little shop, this home decor boutique that I just love, and it is going out of business. Everything is on clearance – would you like to join me?” So, I went with her to have a look around at what was in this store. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just out to pass the afternoon in good company, more than anything else. She was right – the store was interesting, rather eclectic in nature: it held furnishings and objects from many different cultures and styles. Everything, though, was quite pricey, even the items on “clearance.” The place was also in something of a shambles. This was their last day in business – they were selling what they could at discounted prices, planning to move what was left to their other location across town.
So, I was walking around, gazing at this and that, not paying much attention to where I was stepping, when suddenly I banged my foot against an object that was sitting right in the middle of the aisle. It hurt terribly, and even bled a little, as I was wearing nothing but open-toed sandals, and the object I had stumbled over – I couldn’t guess what it was – was made of rough hewn stone. It was actually a large bell, or so that’s what I interpreted it to be. That’s what it looked like to me – a big, grey, stone bell, that stood about 18 inches high. I couldn’t imagine what it was for, so I bent down to examine it more carefully. It was actually made in three pieces: The handle was one piece, a stone shaft that could actually be lifted up and removed from the bell itself. Then there was the base, which formed part of the bell itself. But the bell, which was carved in a latticework design, was hollow inside, as could be seen through the holes in the sides. I was supposing that the bell itself could be lifted up from off its base in order that a light of some sort might be placed inside. I was right, as, when the shop owner who saw me examining it came over, she explained that it was meant to be a lamp, a yard lamp actually. With some effort, she lifted up the dome of the bell itself to reveal a hole drilled through the center of the base. “That’s where the cord for the light is supposed to come through,” she explained. “But there were five of them, and the light fixture for this one was broken in shipping.” Another customer had already purchased the other four. This one was left behind. “How much is it?” I asked, as I liked it very much. I didn’t know why, because I couldn’t imagine what I would do with it. I didn’t even have a yard, and in my tiny, modestly furnished apartment, it would look ridiculous. “It isn’t for sale,” she said, “It isn’t any good without the lamp fixture. I’m sorry you stumped you toe on it. I was going to have the guys throw it in the dumpster – that’s why it’s sitting out here like this – I just haven’t had a chance to do it.” “Bill!” she called out to a man across the room, who was bent over, packing up some items to be shipped out. “Would you please come and get this thing out of the way, before someone gets hurt on it.” “Wait!” I said, feeling a sudden sense of desperation, “You mean you’re going to throw it away?” She nodded affirmatively. By now, Bill had already arrived and was bending over, grunting, trying to pick the thing up off the floor where it sat. “I think I better go get the dolly,”he said, “I’ll be right back.” But by the time Bill returned with his dolly, I had convinced the shop owner to give me the bell, although I still wasn’t sure what I would do with it. It was so beautiful, I thought – so crude in a way, and yet so majestic, so magical even. And I couldn’t believe she was giving it to me – for free – just because it lacked a lamp fixture that could so easily be replaced. (I never did replace it – but used candles instead.) I was even more shocked at this when, as we were loading into the trunk of my friend’s tiny sportscar, I noticed the price tag on the base, as it was turned up-side down: $250. A price that I could never have paid, no matter how much I might have wanted it.
So, I arrived home with this big stone bell, and had to get a couple of guys who were neighbors to help me carry it up to my apartment. But what was I going to do with it? When we came in the front door, suddenly it hit me: “Right over there,” I said, “on the altar – put it right there.” “Here?!” said one of the guys, looking rather surprised. “Are you sure you don’t want it out on the patio instead?” asked the other. No, I was sure – that was exactly where it belonged, right below the Thangka depicting Lord Shiva, which also was a sort of anomaly: a painting of Shiva that was obviously not from India, but hinted stylistically, of some other culture or place. Perhaps China? Perhaps Tibet or Nepal? The shopkeeper where I had bought it did not know. Although I had paid a fair price for it, she did not have the answer to its origin – she “just worked there,” and did not know much about it.
So, there sat the bell, the center-point of my altar, though it made no apparent “sense” at all. A yard-lamp as the focal point of a sacred space! In fact, there it still sits to this day, on the same small table, beneath that same Thangka. But since that day, I have learned a thing or two about this strange stone bell, and consequently, it no longer seems so out of place. Which, in fact, it never felt “out of place” to me at all. I knew from the moment I brought it into my house, exactly where it belonged – I just couldn’t explain it.
The explanation, like the bell itself, came as rather a surprise – not in any package in which I might have expected it to arrive. One day, a couple of years later – I was living in a different apartment by then – I came home to find a young man sleeping in the hallway by my door. He was seated in lotus position, leaned back against the wall, with long dark dreadlocks flowing down around his shoulders – looking very much like an incarnation of Lord Shiva himself. His eyes were closed, and his mouth set with a sort of quiet smile. He looked harmless though, so I reached out and gently shook him, “Are you okay?” I said. He was very surprised, and immediately I perceived a certain sense of embarassment in his manner and in his voice. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I live right here,” pointing to the apartment adjacent to my own, “I forgot my key and my roommate locked me out. I’m waiting for him to come home.” After I surmised that he had no real idea when this might be, and in light of the fact that it was already quite late at night, I invited him into my apartment, and offered him my sofa for the night. He hesitated at first, but finally consented to my offer, admitting that otherwise he might be stuck sleeping in the hallway all night.
It turned out that neither of us was actually very sleepy – I suppose he had already gotten his nap – and we stayed up for several more hours just chatting. He was from Indonesia, Java, to be exact. He was in the import business, bringing marketable goods back from Indonesia for sale in the US. He was a very interesting and friendly fellow to talk to, and I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. Then, when it was finally time to get some sleep, before dawn came, he decided that he would prefer the spare bedroom over the sofa, although there was no bed in there. He would be comfortable enough on the floor, he assured me. So, I gave him a pillow and some blankets and left him to make himself comfortable. It just so happened, however, that the spare bedroom was where my altar was set up. Within seconds of stepping into that room, he came rushing back out, “Are you sure you’ve never been to Java?!” he declared. No, I hadn’t – not even close to Java. I couldn’t imagine what he was so excited about. “But that’s Borobudur in there on your altar!” he said. “It’s what?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.
He explained all about the stone bell – what it really was, a replica of a stupa, and where it had come from – Java. I didn’t really fully understand, however, until the next morning when he went back over to his own apartment, and quickly returned with a handful of photographs he had taken on his last trip home to Java, to a place of pilgrimage called Borobudur. There was the mysterious “bell” alright, but not just one – many, seventy-three, to be exact! Each looking very much like the other, each looking identical to the stone “bell” sitting on my own altar, but huge by comparison.
The photographs he presented to me, some of which he actually let me keep, look very much like the ones in these links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Borobudur_2008.JPG
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Borobudur-perfect-buddha.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Borobudur_monks_1.jpg
After this initial introduction, I later did some research on my own, and learned some very interesting facts. There are actually strains of Buddhism in which Lord Shiva (traditionally a Hindu god) is both recognized and worshipped. Java, the location of the Buddhist Borobudur temple, happens to be one of the few places in the world where Buddhism and Hinduism are tightly interwoven and not necessarily seen as being at odds with one another. In other words, my intuition telling me that the stone bell, actually a replica of a Buddhist stupa, belonged on my altar of Shiva, was not at all a mistake. Once I knew more, it all made perfect sense.
So, this is this ends the story of what is probably the most important “bell” in my life.
Am a marketer and every time i meet people,am interested in them.Oftenly i have talked to strangers in ‘Matatus’ as we call public transport in Kenya.We are created to relate.That is what gives life a meaning.
We have a special public means in Kenya we call ‘face me’.The seats are placed in a way that you face each other.Since fellow passengers sit directly opposite to you and you face them,when your stares meet,you are shy and then you smile,the other person also smiles especially if of the opposite sex.On and on you go.Many have found love this way.
If you happen to come to Kenya Paulo,travel with face me.
Rhythm.Bells as a prayer connect us with Other Realms.They are transmitters of unthinkable energies.They help us to find out our own code in the Universe.And than -the choice can be done-to live in infinity or eternity.What? and How?-these questions bells and prayer help us to answer.
I associate bells with alegria… the arrival of someone dear or friends. well door bells that is!
the sound of big bells put me in a strange sound like trance. must be the resonant vibrational sound. i liiiiiiike…
for me bells are the sound of peace and serenity …. in india , as in most religions bells are a essential element of the holy altar , as a child i would her my grandmother or my mother or my nanny , in the room of worship , ringing the bell as they chanted mantras …… and thou i was never a part of it all , those sounds would always bring this sense of serenity and security in me , as if the bells made aware of something protective that was always surrounded us ….. as if the bell triggered me to another sea of calmness all together but only for a few minutes …….
I associate bells with “guardian bells” or “biker bells.” Around the time I turned 40, I learned how to ride a Harley, and had my own Harley Sportster 883 for a couple of years. I always wanted to have a guardian bell, a bell that you hang from the bike itself to guard against bad road spirits that could make you have problems of many kinds, including mechanical problems with the bike. I could never find the right one and eventually sold the bike.
Last year I went to my sister’s wedding in Maggie Valley, North Carolina and went into a biker shop, just for fun and for remembering those days of riding. At the counter, there was a display with many different guardian bells and out of nostalgia, I suppose, I bought one to bring home with me. On it, there is a spider web that wraps around the outside of the bell with a black widow spider sitting on it. I put my car keys on it as soon as I returned home and I use it everyday.
I love the sound of the bell as I pick up the keys or as I walk with it in my hand to the car. I don’t know if the legend is correct in that it protects me from bad road spirits, but I know that it makes my heart happy just to hear it.
I also remember being in Taxco, Mexico, spending a couple of days there with an acquaintance to wander around the town and to look at all the beautiful silver. I remember that the church bells rang every hour, half hour, and quarter hour and it seemed as if the air around the town itself was full of the bells vibrations.
I also think of one of my favorite movies, “It’s a Wonderful Life” because in it, every time a bell rings an angel gets his/her wings. I love that movie!
Bells are a voice of our souls
in general the bells remind me of the church,,,
in my house i have in my garden few kind of bells whice give the special melody when the wind is everywere,
There is a little bell on my key ring and I carry it with me every day…depending on the way I walk or of the place where I put the ring I hear the bell cling.
It’s a part of me, the little bell that I bought years ago at a flea market. There is a number 1 etched in the bell and that’s what the bell means to me…WoMan…
Love
Hildegarde
xxx
Second thought; Liberty Bell
Third thought; Blåklokke, Bluebell, a Norwegian spring/summer flower.
Llamada a los Angeles.
Un beso.
Bells, a calling, Transformative ability, a purification through the vibrations of the sounds, or an annoyance, depending on the pitch.
I love wind chimes, I have one in my back yard, and when they move and sound propelled by the wind, it is the most relaxing feeling.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbJ_Jg_CX-c
love,
C.
Dear Savita, what an erotic poem.
Dearest Paulo,
I associate the tinkling of bells with joy, great joy. Love the sound.
When my born again Christian friend S would laugh- it always sounded like bells tinkling. I feel that way about My Master’s Divine Consort(Wife)Divine Mother’s Laughter is like that- bells tinkling away merrily.
Love,
Sheela
Sacred places, sacred spaces, whether ethereal or material, internal or external, personal or shared. The call to walk over the threshold of all that is small and “real,” cross that liminal region dividing the sacred from the profane, and enter into a place of sanctity. Also the warning call to demons and devils: BEWARE – DO NOT ENTER HERE.
Yes, the Bell and the Vajra (the Thunderbolt or Diamond) of Vajrayana Buddhism – very much like the yoni and lingham of Hindu tradition. In Tantric Buddhism, the Bell symbolizes the feminine principle of wisdom, whereas the Vajra represents the masculine element of compassion. There is not one without the other. In the rituals of Tantra, the two are employed in unison, symbolizing the sacred union of the masculine and feminine aspects of both the human and the Divine. So above, as below – so below, as above. There is not one without the other anywhere, in either realm.
This very much contrasts with the Christian tradition of the established church, wherein all that is material, embodied, and therefore profane (stained by taint of original sin) is associated with the feminine; and all that is spiritual, divine, sacred, is associated with the masculine. (Please note that I could be wrong on this – this is just my understanding and experience of Christianity. I am sure there are other, alternate takes on it.)
At any rate – the bell, that concave shape, those curves, the yoni, the call to a sacred space within, wherein the union of the masculine and the feminine is made possible. It is all very suggestive, very alluring – very possible!
Which brings to my mind a poem, which surprisingly is actually in the Western tradition, by Anne Sexton:
WHEN MAN ENTERS WOMAN
When man,
enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore,
again and again,
and the woman opens her mouth with pleasure
and her teeth gleam
like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star,
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they will
never again be separate
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashes their rivers.
This man,
this woman
with their double hunger,
have tried to reach through
the curtain of God
and briefly they have,
though God
in His perversity
unties the knot.
I can hear bells from where I sit in this very moment, in my reading chair. The patio doors are open and the faint tinkling drifts in with the wind and the call of the birds engaged in their spring rituals of mating. I do not usually consciously notice these bells. Some things are such a prevalent and all permeating part of our daily environment that we actually absorb them into ourselves. They are no longer outside of us but become a part of us. Like the sound of our own breathing, the ebb and flow of air from our lungs, the rise and fall of the ribcage – we are no longer aware of them. These ever-tinkling bells are like this for me: I probably haven’t consciously noticed them for a year, or two, or maybe more. And yet I am the one who hung them there, on a low branch, within the lush, green canopy of a large oak tree.
I hung them there, along with other odd objects, for the reasons described above: to mark a sacred space (to sanctify that space, in a sense), to issue a call to that place, and yet, at the same time, to ward off all malefic influences from entering into the circumference of that circle. I hung those bells there, and then I forgot them. My ears perceived them, but my conscious mind refused to be bothered by their persistence… until this very moment. Until I read the word “Bells,” written above, in bold black letters. Then I heard those bells again, as though for the very first time.
They are rusty now, I would imagine – they were rusty when I hung them. I have had them for so long, I do not even remember where I got them. I believe they may have come from India, though I am not sure of that. They could be from some place else. They are tiny bells, rather crude in design, all handing from the fringes and from within the center of an iron heart. Inside of that larger heart is a smaller heart, and inside of that, more bells, dangling, always tinkling. Whatever they were coated with initially – brass, platinum, whatever – has long sense worn off, leaving the less durable metal within completely exposed to the elements. The sound they make is hollow, and yet delicate. I am sitting here just now thinking how wonderful it is to be made aware of those bells again.
Much love!
Savita
Bells* are-
a calling
for my awerness & attention
Marielle made me remember that in our city lately some brilliant mind,guess architect ,or whoever have such ideas,they just build big churches near blocks of flat . Obviously,some living in those buildings were of a different religion,or just did not appreciate the loud sermon, always possible to hear it even from very far,due to loud speakers placed outside.Yes, they did sue the church.The judge has not considered serious the complaint.Now I found it funny walking home once in a new years eve, hearing the music and fun of people in parties,and next the church preaching against the sin of having too much fun …?
Of course the most important moments in life, weddings ,funerals,sermons .We all know that in past, bells should be sign of a danger near, for example to make aware people of a community of enemies approaching.Or, nowadays,of course as Easter just passed ,many bells were announcing the beautiful event,the revival of Jesus Christ.
From literature I remember a funny weird story by Edgar Allan Poe, “The Devil in the Belfry”.And,an interesting novel “The Bell”by Iris Murdoch.
Of course, the poor Quasimodo ,who was deaf already because he was near them, but he still loved the bells who never criticized or laughed on him.
I associate bells with the “time beep” coming from the church.
And with the english expression “ringing someone bells”
Ouch Annie. Church bells is my immediate association of bells. It is the Lord calling us to prayers. There has been frequent recent apparitions of Our Lady in St. Helena Catholic Church in Eloy, Arizona. Many locals see Our Lady appearing as a two foot image when they stand outside the church and look up to the visible church bell. A friend of mine has seen it with her own eyes, and explained what she saw and think about it. She took me to see her grandmother who regularly goes to pray in this Church. The grandmother has big statues all over her little living room, and one can tell she is very pious. When I asked her about the apparition, she said; It’s the priests who do it! Later I e-mailed the parish priest to ask if I could visit the Church. He answered he can assure me the priests have nothing to do with what is happening sometimes when they ring the church bells. Anyway, as Annie says…it’s comforting to know; ‘then i knew that i was never alone, and i knew i had to leave my other dark self down there, and not take Her with me’. Annie…you are so sweet :)
The little church in my village: so small that it could not contain more than 20 people or so.
Its bells used to ring every evening in May, Mother Mary’s month, when the Mass was celebrated there instead of the big church in the center.
I loved that sound, because it meant that Spring was there, and I loved the scent of blossoming flowers near the little church in the the warm evening breeze.
Love,
Rossana
Bells for me represent union and mysticism and communion. They remind me of people deciding to come together, either as a couple or as a group.
Bells by: Athena Lim Malamas
Verse 1:
Ring it, ring ring it, ring that bell
Oh, they come a runnin
Other people are hell
Oh, their time is comin
Only peace in the imagination
Living in a world of my creation
Ooh, Ooh, Aah,
With bells I associate a story that was in the news in Holland last year. In a town in Holland there was a big church, like in most towns in Holland.
In this town the pastor always rang the church bells at 7 o’clock every morning. The entire village had been complaining for years and years towards him about this, because they really thought this was too early, they all woke up from it, and especially in the weekends. The pastor kept ringing the churchbells at 7 in the morning.
After complaining to him so often the villagers decided to sue the pastor and brought the case to court.
After months and months of investigation and a very long court proces the judge made his verdict. From now on on sundays the pastor would only be allowed to ring the bells at half past 7, and all the other days 7 o’clock was approved fine.
This story was allover the Dutch news for weeks and weeks, and out of pure amazement I’ve been following it. Is this worth a lawcase? Is this worth being on the news? Did anybody learn anything from this?
No…. it was pure entertainment (for me at least)
:)
Love
Bells for me are equal to code red, to an alarming, it means “Girl, you ve got to wake up, to stand up, to struggle a little and fly..”
The day i left my other dark self was when i actually fell down on my everyday walk in the nearest park ,-it s actually a place where many athletes go and run , or some families go for a picnic, it s a very beautiful beautiful place- and at one moment i fell down, with my face down on the road, i had made a dive!, and it hurt so badly, and i was alone..around me there was so much beauty, flowers flourishing, butterflies black and white, all the shades of green, and there was no one to help me..or so i thought..and instantly i said to myself “GIrl you have to stand up, otherwise you ll hurt more” and i could taste the soil in my mouth and it hurt..it hurt so badly..i managed to stand up and i had hurt all of my leftfoot, my jeans were torn in the left side and i was a mess, but i didnt care for it, i tried to stand up to see if i can feel my leg, and.. then a miracle happened! i got up and there was this dog, out of nowhere, which tried to lick my wounds..i started crying, i started caressing the dog, and coulndt help my tears.. and then i heard bells, it was probably bells of the nearest church, but then i knew that i was never alone, and i knew i had to leave my other dark self down there, and not take Her with me..And i couldnt stop crying and i kneeled, kissed the ground, and i clodes my eyes and stood up and i thanked everything that there was, the beauty around, the sun’s warmth, the ground that made me fall, the dog, i kissed him, and i made my choice..
i made then my first step towards Annie i want to be..
ALso the song Bells for her – tori amos is one of my favourite..
Thank you for this association..it s not so long ago, actually it is very recent..
Love and Graditude
Annie
I’ve never thought about it really.Just know that when the bells are singing,the nearest you go the that beautiful sound,the more it will brings luck to you.A good omen something like that.
Bells:celebration,marriage,angels,singing…
“Hell’s bells” :)
Querido Paulo,
Bells: Igreja, festa, natal, refeição (na casa de meu avô todo domingo no momento de comer ele tocava um sino pra chamar todo mundo), silêncio, abertura, comemoraçao…
MARG,
Ca