In order to explain what I mean here by landscapes of the spirit, I have to refer to the experience of the landscapes that normally are offered to our eyes.
Sometimes, but we could also say almost always, landscapes, environments, arouse into us feelings that are special, we would even say strange.
What I am about to say may be another explanation of the phenomenon of déjà vu; the existing psychological explanation is fairly obvious, at least in the way I conceive it: we experience the feeling of having previously been in a place because it contains some features that remind us already lived experiences: nothing special, therefore, nothing supernatural. The other explanation, implicitly contained in what I’m going to say, is material as well and does not assume anything extra-physical.
My guess is that our feeling is caused by the fact that that particular landscape arouses in us the memory of similar landscapes, but made by ideas, landscapes of the spirit. Let’s try to better explain the concept.
If we wonder how the ideas in our mind are organized, it will be obvious to realize that they do not have the structure that we give them when, for example, we write them on a sheet in an orderly manner: the ideas in our brains have not definitely a structure by paragraphs, or by tree, or by any ordered image that we can think of as a model. They have different organizations, certainly more disordered.
Now, my guess is that the way our neurons organized, or continuosly reorganize, in our brain our ideas may have some similarities, for example, with the waves of the sea, a landscape or various environments where we can happen to be.
We can also note that our ideas can own multiple structures simultaneously, like a single complex acoustic wave can simultaneously convey the sound of many instruments, recognizable one by one, or like in a word search it is possible to recognize the most different words simply by inventing the most different structures, different patterns by which to identify them. We understand that, in this sense, the possible structures are endless and this may explain how any environment, any geometry or landscape is always able to arouse in us deep and indefinable feelings.
The same concept can be applied to music, or anything else: we can assume that the musical sounds, with the structures contained in their tones, their development, in their various characteristics, recall structures of our ideas, structures which then can match also different types of feelings or emotions.
Of course there may be many other reasons to justify our various sensations; what I am proposing here is just one of the possible reasons, however, purely hypothetical.
At this point we might ask: assuming that in that guess of the landscapes of spirit there may be some truth, what is the use? It’s no use, as well as spirituality doesn’t serve to anything: it serves only to enjoy exploring ideas, feelings, silences, a pleasure that can prove humanly constructive.
What I have just described, more than being a talking about spirituality, it close to a “doing spirituality”; on the other hand, if, as “universal spirituality”, everything is spirituality, this means that we always do spirituality as well.