You’re the Voice, Try and Understand It

One of the things I like about one of our local coffee shops is that they play a nice wide selection of music. Mostly popular songs from pretty much every decade back to the ’60s. I think they have one of those looping playlists you hear sometimes in shops and cafés.

It must be quite a long list because you don’t necessarily hear the same songs repeated at every visit. Which is a nice thing too.

Anyway, yesterday the chorus of a song I heard played got stuck in my head. The song, You’re the Voice, was a hit around the world in 1986 when it was released by Australian singer John Farnham.

It’s essentially a protest song reminding us that we all have a voice, and encouraging us to use our voices to stand up against corruption and war. One of the co-writers Chris Thompson missed out on going to an anti-nuclear protest because he slept late. He felt so badly about sleeping in that he wrote the lyrics reminding us about taking personal responsibility and making our voices heard.

Okay, back to the chorus getting stuck in my head.

You’re the voice, try and understand it
Make a noise and make it clear Oh woah.
We’re not gonna sit in silence
We’re not gonna live in fear Oh woah

You see? It’s very catchy, and an excellent piece of advice too. And, for a hermit monk, it’s actually advice I could and do aspire to live by. Just not quite in the sense the song intends perhaps.

This morning, when my partner hermit suggested we just sit in silence for a while, I spontaneously started singing the chorus, though a slightly modified version:

We’re just gonna sit in silence
We’re not gonna live with fear.

Then, as I sat in said silence, I got to thinking about the words of the chorus.  Nobody wants to live in fear, yet it is an aspect of the human condition and something so many people live with constantly all over the world. All through human history as well.

The message of the song reminds us all that we have a voice which we can use to help create a state of affairs in which we don’t have to live in quite so much fear, fear that’s coming at us from so many sources.

For me, this is a vital, fundamental, and absolutely essential principle. Without those who do stand up, those who do use their voices to try to right wrongs, then, well I can’t think of what that might mean.

Yet, for me, I’ve chosen silence. Not only chosen I must admit: temperament, my own nature, health, all are factors that have made silence the best course for me to take. Silence as in seclusion from the world, minimizing outside imput, and reducing as much as possible the attachment to the world and its things and fears.

And this way of living ironically allows me to use my voice in my own ways to address the Truth as I see it; to help effect change and contribute to the healing so sorely needed.

Being ‘out there’ and engaged with worldly things and activities and interacting with people constantly causes me so much anxiety that it threatens my health and ability to act in the world.

There is also the personal choice aspect, common to so many who live a contemplative life. Silence – when I can actually achieve such a state – gives me the energy and clarity to write; it gives me the mental, emotional and spiritual ‘space’ and energy to pray, to contemplate, and to foster the ‘good vibrations’ I feel are also necessary to turn the world towards peace, healing, and truth, as well as to assist in maintaining the wellbeing of all life.

The world, and all of life, needs both those who can’t or won’t be silent (I’m definitely not suggesting the world needs more noise). We all need people who can and do raise their voices against war, poverty, corruption, and all the ills that plague us.

And it needs those who are able to ‘just sit in silence’. The work to be done is the same; the outcomes perused are the same; and in essence the means themselves aren’t all that different either. Silence as mentioned can include the use of our voices in ‘quiet’ ways, in ways that don’t have to relate so directly the affairs of the world.

It really is a symbiosis: Those of us living secluded and contemplative lives with our prayers, our witness, our creative endeavours, support those active and vocal ones out there trying to heal the world.

And at the same time those out there in the world support the secluded and contemplative ones. Their efforts and hard work, and simply knowing they are there, are encouraging and nurturing for the secluded and contemplative ones.

We are One after all.
Yet our voices are all unique, each and every one.
That’s what I understand to be true.

A Little Ode to Vincent: A Poem & more

Way back long ago in late 2014 I wrote a poem. Which as a stand alone statement is hardly cause for excitement on any level I can think of.

Except to say that in that poem I expressed much of what I felt (and still feel all these years later, perhaps more so) about Vincent Van Gogh. I called it A Little Ode to Vincent, because it was a kind of love song, a celebration of Vincent and an affirmation of my reverence for that great one.

Anyway, I was reading some old poems last night and I came across A Little Ode to Vincent. I checked to see if I’d shared it with you on this blog at some point, but to my surprise I found that I hadn’t. Which is very nice for me, because I get to share it with you now.


There it is then. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you. There isn’t a word I’d change if I were writing it now.

While looking through my blog checking for this poem, I came across two posts from 2022 which mention Vincent. Well, one is about a book I’d read on his spirituality and his quest to lead a compassionate life. Have a look at the beginning of that post and what I wrote about that book:

I still remember the book and its impact on me vividly. Please read the post Van Gogh Mystic & Saint, and if at all possible read the book. In fact I’m going to try to track it down and read it again, or at least do some Googling on the topic.

The other post I wrote at around the same time isn’t about Vincent directly, but it does open with a quote from him, and he’s referred to throughout the post. Here’e the opening section:

Again, please take the time to read it. It’s called The Pilgrims’ Way, and I think it makes a very nice sibling post for that first one I’ve linked to.

I hope you found the little Ode of mine satisfying. I have always had great reverence for Vincent, and after reading the book about his spirituality, I was even more deeply attracted to the man, the artist, and the mystic saint that was Vincent Van Gogh.

There’s nothing more genuinely artistic than to love people.

Vincent Van Gogh

Me & My Senses

Today, once again, I would like to share with you some thoughts and insights on a quote I have written in the front of my Bhagavad Gita. Yes, I know, I do this quite frequently, but there really is a good reason.

You see, for me, this particular Bhagavad Gita, this little book (and it is a little book: 10 x 7cm but still a little fat too!) is so much more than a collection of bits of paper with words printed on them inside a nice cover.

Well, it is a book, so of course it is that as well. But for me it is more a repository of wisdom. It is actually the first scripture or holy book of any kind that I have spent years studying. And over those years I have devoted who knows how much time, energy, heart and mind to it. As for how many times I’ve read it cover to cover, well I don’t keep count!

This Bhagavad Gita is truly a treasure trove that enriches me and my life every time I open it.

Anyway, enough of the praise and gratitude intro. Allow me to share the verse (in fact it’s a part of a verse) with you:

… restrain your senses and focus your entire mind on me.
               Bhagavad Gita 2:61

Let me try to explain why this verse – and this particular portion of the verse – is like a kind of motto or mission statement for my life. Well, to be honest, It’s one among a whole collection, but this one for me seems to especially significant.

It is through and only through, the senses that we are able to experience the world. In addition to the traditional five senses (sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch) here we include the mind. This sixth sense includes all the activities of the mind.

When you think about it, the mind is really our major sense organ, in that it is in the mind that imput from our other senses comes together in such a way that allows us to perceive and experience the world around us as a coherent whole.

Then of course, the mind being a sense organ in its own right, does its share of providing us with imput in the form of thoughts and emotions. The problem arises when we let the mind have its way and we hand over control of our senses to our mind (and also we let our other senses free rein to control the mind) completely or at least in ways that  might not be in our best interests.

So, if we are to restrain our senses – all of them – what are we to do? Well, rather than getting into a long rave with a big list of what we should do, why don’t I simply talk about some of the ways in which I try to put into practice, the injunction to restrain the senses.

The Eyes of the Teacher

First, a disclaimer : I’m still in a human body. Meaning that I’ve been struggling with my senses for a long long time. And it means the struggle continues, just as it does with all of us. It’s the effort, though, that is the real key: to restrain the senses we might easily add retrain the senses including the mind.

For so much of my life I was careless about what I put into my body by way of my sense of taste. Food, I was not very controlled when it came to what, when and how I ate. I’ve been vegetarian for about 40 years and vegan for at least the last ten years. But until the last few years (and I still struggle now) that didn’t stop me from going for the tasty stuff – meaning the fatty and sugary things that can (and do) cause great harm, as they did to me.

Now, strictly vegan as I said, I never add sugar (okay one in coffee on very rare occasions), there’s no cooking with oils, and eating as little processed foods as is possible. Simple food too, simply cooked, with just a few spices. Surprisingly (to myself at least) I always have enough taste sensations to satisfy.

As to what I consume via the senses of sight and hearing, there is only so much that one can do unless one lives in a remote desert or mountain cave. Which, of course, some people do for this exact reason – to control and limit what they consume or are exposed to. Still, I don’t watch, listen to, or read news of any kind.

Like many people I watch videos on the Internet. While there is a massive amount of brilliant  content available, it is hard to sift through inappropriate suggested videos, impossible to avoid advertising, and even the news sneaks through quite often. For a while now I’ve been on the brink of deleting online video viewing platforms, but I’m not quite there yet. Soon.

Give up listening to Buddy Holly??? That’ll be the day!

As for music, I’ve gathered a large collection over the years. Lately however I’m finding that I’m not wanting to listen to much of the music I have.  Why? Well, I think as I’ve meditated more, studied, contemplated more, I’m slowly beginning to exert some discipline over my mind making me more sensitive to what my senses pick up.

It seems to me that more and more of the music and songs I’ve loved and listened to my whole life are about dark themes and subjects, about emotions made petty, and sometimes songs or tunes just feel plain and simply nasty.

I’m content with this outcome and curious to see where it leads. As with videos, TV or the news, so much of the music I listened to does’t speak of Truth, at least for me.

With a view to control visual and audio imput, I try to live in as quiet an environment as possible. As we all know, these days this is becoming more and more difficult, perhaps even for those who can retreat to the desert cave! And we have a saying in the hermitage about just this issue: Something’s gotta give! Meaning of course that the time is right for radical thinking and action to be taken in the search for silence.

Which leads me to mind – my mind anyway. Like yours, my mind is a raging torrent of often repetitive thoughts going in all directions (or none) and very often without any kind of rhyme or reason.

But, through the above efforts at discipling the other senses, I do have some control, not much, but… . Through an increasing amount of time and effort spent on meditation and engaging mindfully in all my actions as much as I can, I think I am at least giving myself (my mind that is) some control over the other senses, my thoughts, and all that mental chaos.

Now, what does it mean, ‘focus your entire mind on me’? Well, this is a question that you will find asked and answered  given in numerous books, blogs, and in many other places. But, for me, and to sum it up in the one sentence, it’s about focusing all my senses (including mind) on what is of the good, what is right, what speaks of truth, love, and is for the betterment of all beings.

I mentioned that our quote is only a part of a verse. Here’s the whole thing:

In order to attain steady wisdom {knowledge of the true nature of Self and the world} restrain your senses and focus your entire mind on me.
               Bhagavad Gita 2:61

Self Enquiry is the means to acquire Self Knowledge which leads to real wisdom

It is this wisdom, or at least the efforts we make at acquiring it, that is the way to a happier, freer life. At least that’s my take on it all.
Peace

A Music Star, Some Songs, and the Human Condition

The first line of this post was going to read something like: I listen to a lot of music. Then just as I put fingers to keys, I thought, no I don’t. More true to say I don’t listen to anywhere as much music as I’d like.

But I do try, and I am blessed that I have quite a large and extremely diverse music collection. All digital these days (which in itself is a great blessing), but once, I had CDs, DVDs, cassettes, as well as quite a nice range of vinyl singles and LPs.

Thank you Wikipedia No glasses?

Anyway. Moving right along. Tonight, as I cooked dinner for the hermit pilgrims, I was listening to a self-titled album called Buddy Holly. I just discovered that it was his debut studio album recorded in 1958. My copy is most likely a rerelease,though unlike most of the rereleases, this one features the original track line up.

I found myself thinking about, fantasizing I could say, about what might have happened had tragedy not called a halt to Buddy’s songs and life. Who can say? Then I mentally shook myself: this kind of daydreaming and speculation is not what one might call being present in the here and now; such thinking is an outright denial of the truth of things as they are. But, remember, I’m still learning: not yet enlightened; just another sentimental human who can’t help himself or control his wayward mind.

A Studied Pose

Some would say that the album contains songs that are typical rock and roll pop songs. And yes, they would be absolutely correct. Why? Because, as you’ve probably worked out in your own life, living on this planet as a human being is a drama in itself ready made for song lyrics, movie scripts, and novel plots. It’s not a new idea!

As such the songs’ lyrics are about love and loss, hope and despair, longing, joy, sadness; you know, the normal everyday ups and downs, ins and outs of life. Not a lot you might think to interest the likes of me. But there is something, that I’m not sure I can name in Holly’s music and lyrics that strikes a chord (sorry pun not intended) for this hermit-pilgrim, aspiring to be a monk, rock and roll fan, who just loves music from wherever and whoever.

Sure, the songs being products of their times can be a little sexist (nothing compared to the twisted misogyny we sometimes hear today though): sometimes naive and simplistic. But, for me there seems to be an innocence, even a kind of purity to the lyrics. Have a look at the lyrics of Mailman Bring Me No More Blues:

Mailman, bring me no more blues
Mailman, bring me no more blues
One little letter is all I can use

She wrote me only one sad line
Told me she’s no longer mine
Mr. Mailman, that’ll do for some time

Cried like never before
So hard, couldn’t cry no more
Shoo, shoo, Mailman, stay away from my door

Mailman, bring me no more blues
Mailman, bring me no more blues
One blue letter is all I can use

By the way, those two lines in the second verse are about as sexist as any of the album’s lyrics get, not that I am suggesting we minimise in any way whatsover such a sentiment. It’s abhorrent to me.

Anyway, it is pretty clear what this song is all about: it is the pleas of our rejected hero to be left alone; he can’t handle any more bad news or heartbreak.

Actually as I’ve listened to this particular song a few times tonight, I’ve realised that it’s about attachment, about compulsions and aversions. It’s about how this guy believes his wellbeing depends on someone else, that without her he is doomed to suffer.

When we think like that, we are compelled to chase after those things in the world that we think will make us happy, and run away from the things that we think make us suffer. In this song it’s all the mailman’s fault.

Obviously we are all like that; it’s part of human nature isn’t it? You might ask, am I now preaching a dualistic , clinging to your desires type of approach to living. No, but at the same time, it’s a true story isn’t it? This song. None of us want suffering, pain, rejection, and all the rest of it. I guess instead I should be saying now: let go of worldly attachments, give up your notion that things of the world can make you happy.

Now, how about these partial lyrics from Everyday. One of Buddy’s biggest hits:

Everyday, it’s a gettin’ closer,
Goin’ faster than a roller coaster,
Love like yours will surely come my way, (hey, hey, hey)
Everyday, it’s a gettin’ faster,
Everyone says go ahead and ask her,
Love like yours will surely come my way, (hey, hey, hey)

Everyday seems a little longer,
Every way, love’s a little stronger,
Come what may, do you ever long for
True love from me?

And the music. Holly has been credited with being the originator of what became the standard set up for rock and roll bands: two guitars, bass, and drums. Mind you, according the album notes I read online, many of the songs on this album also feature many other instruments, classical and contemporary. I think it’s brilliant; something about it makes me think of alchemy

Wake me up for the drum solo

For me it’s that instrumentation, the tunes, the melodies, and sometimes great harmonies (not to mention the occasional lack of harmony) that promote or provoke a kind of mellow, reflective mood. Sometimes though it feels like the music itself goes further and actually creates or induces that mood.

I just love these songs. That’s the essence of what I’m saying. In a strange way, they serve to uplift, despite the sometimes apparant gloom and doom of many of them.

Anyway, let me leave you with a couple of verses from one more song, Valley of Tears, which was actually written and first recorded by Fats Domino.

While most of us have been at some time or another a frequent visitor to or even long term resident in that valley, in this song our hero wants to actually go there forever!

Of course, I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he wants so badly to be relieved of his suffering that the only place he can think of where he can truly belong is where everybody else is suffering like him.

I want you to take me
Where I belong
Where hearts have been broken
With a kiss and a song

The Closed Cafe at the End of Lonely Street

Spend the rest of my days, dear
Without any cares
Everyone understands me
In the Valley of Tears

I guess that’s why I love and respect Buddy Holly along with so many others: he’s telling us, reminding us, that happiness doesn’t come from outside, from out there in the world. And if it does, it’s fleeting, only temporary. He reminds us, or at least he speaks this truth to me, that the only place I can find permanent peace, love, happiness is within.

Peace and love from me to you

PS: A note of thanks

Most of the photos are mine, except for the ones depicting the record single and the LP cover. I am very grateful to Wikipedia for allowing such access to these things.

Also thank you to Wikipedia for the song lyrics. If you ask my personal opinion, I will tell you that Wikipedia is one of the greatest resources for knowledge (or rather informatioun with the potential to become knowledge), that has ever existed in the history of our species.

Chant the Name and Write a Blog Post!

Even the biggest dream catcher won’t always catch the dreams

This morning I woke up restless, and extremely tired. It felt as if I hadn t slept at all, though I know I did. Who can say about these things? Perhaps dreams disturbed me or something.

Anyway, despite this grogginess/restlessness vibe, I resolved to get on with morning routines. And, in addition to breakfast and normal stuff, I set an intention to continue with my usual morning devotional practice.

So with that in mind (and a coffee in hand as an extra aid to wakefullness), I sat with that intention and in a mood of devotion.  As is my usual practice, I picked up my Bhagavad Gita.

Now, this particular edition has some pages in front and in the back that aren’t really a part of the main text. Over the years I’ve written things on these pages, and pasted in various pictures, prayers, and other things meaningful to me.

As I picked up the book, it fell open accidentally, by chance, at random, to the pages on which I had placed an image of Saraswati, as well as a page of repeated mantras to her. (I use the female personal pronouns because she is a female representation of the divine in particular aspects. More on this later).

Okay I thought: that’s a pretty clear message about where to go from here. I will chant Saraswati’s mantra for a while. Then I thought, there’s a really nice live recording of the mantra by Krishna Das. Do check it out, it’s very lovely, very meditative and soothing.

So, for about 30 minutes I chanted along with this beautiful renditon of  the mantra. Well, it’s a hymn really, a sacred song. And, now? How do I feel?

Awake! Wide awake, alert, ready to face the rest of the day. Inspired also, hence this quick post. No longer restless, well not as bad as I was anyway.

Oh, I should tell you a little about who I think Saraswati is, though of course if you click on the link on her name above, you’ll learn more.

For me, She is a personifcation, a representation, of the divine; the universal consciousness in its aspect of the arts and learning. Obviously, there’s a lot more to Saraswati than that, but for me, she is like a muse, a sort of mentor; She reminds me that art (and study which I have to get to today as well!) is an expression of all that is divine. Actually, art is the divine just as all things are.

I think that Saraswati has been busy with me this morning.  She has helped me to set down these words I share with you. Perhaps, this little story of my morning has reminded me that I can call on Her more often. One of my biggest aspirations, you see, is to share more with you here.

Oh, one last reminder: There is no such as thing as ‘accidentally’, or ‘by chance’ or ‘at random.

Peace

All I Had to Do Was Dream

Last night I had a dream. Of course there’s nothing unusual in that: I dream every night, every time I sleep (and sometimes when I’m supposed to be meditating as well). Actually I’m no different than probably every other living being in the Universe: I dream when I sleep.

No. The particular dream isn’t my point here (though we’ll be discussing it soon enough). What makes it worth noting is the fact that last evening, before going to bed, I watched a documentary on Carl Jung and The Red Book.

Jung compiled The Red Book at a time of personal crisis and distress. Using dream analysis, his own imagination, and intense self reflection, he used both paintings and text to express what he saw and understood from these practices. Hauntingly beautiful, other worldly pictures depicting dream images, archetypes, both personal and universal, helped him delve deeply into his unconscious mind and the collective unconscious.

I gave up trying to interpret dreams a long long time ago. Don’t ask me why: I probably couldn’t say. Most likely something to do with a kind of wariness about going too much into where the mind wants to take me, and my sense that the “dream” doesn’t stop when we wake up.

Still, watching this doco prompted a lot of discussion with my partner hermit, and a lot of thinking on my part. The mind is not our enemy, though sometimes I feel that it is. Well, it can be the enemy if we allow it, but equally we can allow the mind to be our friend. After all, what activity of any kind is possible in the world without mind?

So, with that in mind (get it? in mind?) I will share with you that above mentioned dream from last night.

In the dream I was in a small kitchen, making tea. I’d put on a kettle to boil. A very large, heavy kettle, probably three or four times the size of a normal one. I was in the process of looking for a mug or cup, and just as I picked one up that I liked the look of, a crowd of five or six people came bustling noisily into this very crowded space.

‘I’ve just put the kettle on,’ I called loudly over the din. As it happened I’d filled the kettle almost to overflowing, much more than I needed for myself alone.

‘There’s plenty of boiling water to go round.’

Then I busied myself looking for something (a tea bag perhaps?), and when I finally turned back to the kettle to make my tea, I saw it was gone. I was very unhappy with this disappearance: After all, I was the one who had filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Then without a thought or a, what’s the expression? without a by your leave, it’s all gone, nothing left for me. Not only no more water, but nothing to boil more with.

I looked everywhere, even outside the kitchen. Outside was a camp ground and apartment complex, where I (and presumably all the other people) was staying.

Anyway, that’s it. All I remember at least. So, the meaning? Was I merely processing trivial facts and events from my day in this strange fashion? Or was I in touch with the deepest part of my psyche and with the collective unconscious? Possibly a bit of both.

It’s not a big job to make a guess about the meaning. I had a plentiful supply of water (or whatever), and without thought, put the needs of others before my own. But then, I actively resented what had been ‘taken from me’, even though I had freely given it in the first place.

So, the message I take from this dream? Just as I’ve been studying lately, the fruits of my actions are not my responsibility. I have no say over what, if anything, will happen as a result of actions I take. All I am responsible for is the taking of the action itself, the manner in which I undertake it, and the attitude with which I approach the actions I take. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The rest is up to the laws of the universe. Call it Karma, or Natural Law.

Another idea just occured to me: When I take action (like boiling the kettle) and then serve others, I am serving Self, all life, everyone and everything. And obviously that includes me. I’m not suggesting I should have made sure ahead of time that I’d ‘reserved’ enough water for myself, but at the same time …

I might keep this dream analysis thing as practice to practise occasionally, when the inclination or inspiration is there. No more blocking memories of dreams, no more stubborn refusal to reflect on dreams. After all, I spend a lot of time contemplating and reflecting on what I do in my waking life, how is it any different just because it happens while I’m asleep?

Making a Dream a Reality (kind of)

A few weeks ago I was wandering around in the CBD of Sydney, in Martin Place to be precise. It’s a popular square with loads of tourists,  shoppers, coffee drinkers, and lunching folks.

It’s also a drawcard for both buskers and for street photographers. For me, it’s mainly a short cut from one street to anoher, though I must say, I’ve very often stopped to make a photo or two of the grand architecture, fountain, and the great light that seems to permeate the place.

Anyway, on this occasion as I walked about slowly, I heard a busker. Not a singer, more a spoken word poet type performer. I guess if I were to categorise him, I’d have to say he was a Rapper.

And to put it mildly, his poetry was a amazing; I had to stop and watch and listen for a while. I realised quickly that what he was doing was focusing on a particular passerby and would then make some (mostly humourous) ryhmes about that person. Things like:

Here comes a dude with groovy green shoes.
Not having a pair like them is givin’ me the blues.

or:

Now I see a fella with a phone stuck on his ear.
Come on buddy, why not let us all hear?

Now, I confess that these are my own made-up examples. I wish I’d noted some of the real ones, but I was too busy listening!

It’s easy to tell right away that I’m not what you would call a “natural rhymer”, if there is even such a thing.

But what turns this into a true synchronicity for me is that for a few years now I’ve had a recurring dream in which I’m simply walking along making up superb rhymes as I go. It’s one of those dreams you’re never sure are ‘real’ or simply a dream.

In any case, when I saw and heard this guy that day, it got me remembering the dream and how I’d often thought I would really love to actually be able to do that exact same thing.

Not about people though. I used to photograph people in the street; all kinds of people.  I still consider photography among the most important of my contemplative and creative practices, just these days I don’t photograph people.

So, in a round about way, I’ve made a little “poem” that refers to what I do photograph, inspired by this encounter as well as particular photo I came across just yesterday but made months ago now.

Please enjoy

Strollin’ down the street
I lift my camera to my eye,
no longer interested in the people walking by.
Nowadays I tend to notice their many and varied traces left behind,
or perhaps (and even better) a golden leaf in the gutter I might find.

Thank you for reading this small attempt. Now here’s the photo I mentioned that inspired this attempt at a kind of spontaneous rhyme.

Blowin’ in the Wind

When Trees Speak

Watercolour by Pauline (with digital enhancement by the Hermit)

Vibing on the mystic trees,
their upside is downside, their downside is upside
selves telling me:
You’ve got to cut through the attachments.
Then, not a new, but old made new again, insight
confirms, clarifies, brings details to,
shines a light on the specifics:
Stop desiring what you already have.

Some Say Love It Is a Flower

You know how YouTube will recommend videos? Well one that’s constantly recommended to me actually is illustrated with my photos.

So, when it came up again today, I thought I would take a look. It’s been a while since I last watched it. To be honest with you I found it really quite moving, watching it again. Anyway let me share the brief story of how this all came about.

I’d met folk singers Susan and Colin Parrish through the community radio station I once managed. I loved their music and style right away and now, over ten years later I’m still drawn to their music and listen to them very often.

We became friends and after sharing some of my photos with Colin, I was truly surprised when he used them as the visuals for a video he put together of Sue and his cover of The Rose, a terrific song made famous by Bette Midler.

An extraordinary take on a beautiful and powerful song. And to see my photos accompanying was a real thrill. Then as it is now.

I thought I would share it with you here. One thing I hadn’t remembered: Colin’s description :

I was surprised to see my words there. And you know something? I think this song, my photos and that little forgotten quote from me, are all a perfect match. Love is. That’s it really: love is. We, each of us, all are merely expressions of love made manifest in the material world.

I hope you enjoy watching and listening. My little quote really is only echoing lyrics from the song:

Some say love it is a flower and you it’s only seed

Amanda McBroom The Rose

Peace

Let the Music Play

When thinking about a name for this photo I was really tempted to somehow reference the song American Pie by Don McLean. The phrase from the lyrics ‘the day the music died’, kept coming to mind – even as I made the photo of the scene.

By the way, ‘the day the music died’ refers to the plane crash in 1959 in which the up and coming Buddy Holly, and the more well known Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper were killed.

And there was that brilliant MASH scene coming to mind. In the scene there is concert pianist who has lost the use of his right hand in battle. One of the doctors attempts to encourage him to not allow the music to die, to find other ways than actually playing piano to share the music.

Both connections seemed obvious: a very old dead piano decaying, returning to old forms of itself. But then it struck me: it was the instrument that had died and was changing forms. All material things change, die, becoming something else.

The music on the other hand, hasn’t died. It not only survived that plane crash and the transition of those three singers, it has thrived. Their music lives on. Music can’t die. Why?

Because music is life. Vibrations, harmony, and sound itself, are the foundations, the roots of ‘life the universe and everything’ (to borrow an old expression). As such, music is not a tangible, physical thing and it needs an instrument to make it manifest in the world; music merely passes through the instrument and emerges into being.

I liked that MASH episode. The doctor (stuffy Major Winchester) says to his patient, the wounded pianist, that as a skilled surgeon he has hands that ‘can make a scalpel sing’. But really, what he’s wanted all his life to is to experience music the way the pianist has.

He says he can play the notes, but he doesn’t have the gift that would allow the music (as in Chopin, Brahms and the rest) to flow through him. He tells his patient, who is depressed and unwilling or unable to consider that the music may not have died:

The gift does not live in your hands. The true gift is in your head, and in your heart, and in your soul.

Major Charles Winchester

Hearing that line again reminded me of Om. There are a number of religious traditions that consider OM (sometimes spelt as AUM) to be the primordial sound, the very source of creation. The word itself, when written is considered sacred.

Then there is the verse from the Christian Bible that makes the exact same assertion:

In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God.

John 1:1-3

Well, music needs an instrument – whether in the form of a voice, body, mind, or in an object made of wood, strings, brass, or something else – in order to manifest into the material world and to be experienced by us.

Just think: the piano in my photo in the front garden of a house in a mining town has most likely allowed many generations to experience music. Accompanied them in celebrations and greivings; helped so many through good times and bad times; witnessed people laugh, cry, and even dance;

Of course, Major Winchester’s gifts as a surgeon are that he is a instrument for the vibration, the music of the universe, to make itself manifest in another way.

And what he is essentially saying to our wounded pianist is: ‘Look you can shut it off forever (his words) or you can continue making your gifts – your Self – available as an instrument that allows that music to come into the world for everyone to share’.

Well dear friends, I have pledged to carry on using my gifts and be available in just that way that allows the music to come through me in whatever form and shape it takes.

By gifts I mean those things that have been granted to every living being: the ability to create harmony; the ability to make and spread good vibrations; and the capacity to appreciate and celebrate beauty.

And when you think of it there is no way to put a limit on the number of ways that the music that is Life might be channelled through each and every one of us

A good place to pick up some good vibes, get into harmony with yourself and appreciate beauty all at the same time

In my own ways I try to make harmony in and around myself as much as I’m able. I am always attempting to cultivate behaviours and attitudes that help to create and spread good vibes. And I constantly seek to appreciate beauty, even when the world seems to be only ugliness.

Of course, as I say I am only the instrument. The music -the beauty, good vibes, and harmony – exist with or without me. But music in whatever shape and form it takes needs an instrument if it is to come into our material world and be there for all of us to share.

So, this is my prayer: that at least every once in a while, every now and then, I can actually be that instrument .

PS Just a little postscript. When passing that particular garden (the piano garden I call it now) I was drawn to this:

Eagle-eyed Garden Guardian

Just as I photographed this lovely creature, I heard my partner’s voice:

‘Did you see the piano?’

Now being in what you’ve heard me call the Zen Zone I was fully focused on and absorbed in, our winged friend. Coming back from wherever I’d been, I did in fact notice the piano.

You see, you just never never know where the music is going to come from. I might not have seen the piano with my own eagle eye but lucky for me music had a ready and willing instrument standing by to remind me of which way to look.