It was a gray morning when the prospective participants gathered in Naone at the end of July. As the morning wore on, however, the sky cleared up more and more, and it became brighter and lighter. The participants were able to spend their lunch break relaxing on the grounds, engaging in conversation, reflection, or exercises.

This weather phenomenon—the skies clearing up during the study sessions with Heinz Grill—is frequently, almost regularly, observed. Perhaps one might classify it as a happy coincidence.

Yet human beings also have a direct effect on their surroundings. It is not only the completed action, nor only the spoken word, that shapes the environment, but also the order (or disorder) and the constellation of thoughts, feelings, and will.

In an analogy between the inner and the outer, the weather becomes brighter and clearer as the study content is deeply reflected upon, further developed, and thoroughly worked through. Attention and concentration are focused on clear, pure thoughts and spiritual content, and this radiates outward.

In his retrospective reflection, Heinz Grill points out that, as the study days progressed, a “very beautiful sphere of warmth within the light” developed.

The “sphere of warmth” or the “ether of warmth” within the light is yet another quality that can be experienced as both more subtle and, at the same time, more substantial. It is a quality that enriches the sunshine with a certain nuance, a certain experience. One could describe it as a calm sense of centering in connection with a whole; a perception of the individual that is, at the same time, well-integrated and connected to the whole. An exploration of the experience of the warm ether has already been undertaken on this page in a post about the flower meadows (see article here).

As an illustration, Heinz Grill chose a photo taken on the Monday following the weekend (see here for a retrospective and the photo). He also describes this as a characteristic phenomenon of ether formation: that it occurs with a slight delay—not immediately, but rather as a joyful and harmonious response from nature, following the passage of a night, to human activity.