Tag Archives: music

All I Can Afford is a Loving Heart

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Our post today is closely related to our last one. In fact, so close is the relationship, we can call them sibling posts, even twins.

Anyway to begin, I’d like to share one verse from a song I’ve loved and not loved for years. The song’s called You’re Just a Country Boy by Alison Krauss:

Never could afford a store bought ring
with a sparklin’ diamond stone.
All you can afford is a loving heart,
the only thing you own.

It’s easy to start disliking this song right from reading the title: ‘Just‘? As in only? As in ‘Is that all you are?’. And ‘country boy’? What’s wrong with people – of whatever age or gender – who come from rural areas?

But, there is some to love as well: The lyrics are clever (cleverer than I’d thought, as you will see soon); the singer has a lovely and skilled voice that I like a lot; and there is a generally relaxed, easy listening kind of vibe to the whole tune.

Still, there is more to dislike: The song is addressed to said country boy, perhaps as well meant advice from a friend who is trying to let the country boy down easy as they say. ‘Get real my friend,’ she seems to be saying. ‘You have nothing that anyone wants. You’re poor, you’re from the country, and no way will anyone ever want you.’

The lyrics are like an affirmation or confirmation of what we know already: the world turns on material objects and money, and you aren’t anyone or going anywhere if you don’t have that stuff.

But, then on the other hand, there is much more to love. And this verse kind of sums it up. For the first time today, rereading the lyrics as I ate my lunch, I finally got it: it’s IRONY!

‘What?’ the lyrics seem to say. ‘You mean to say that the only thing you own is a loving heart? What use is that for goodness sake? Nobody wants that. Everyone wants money, jewels, and other material things’.

Well, I think I’d actually gotten it already; it’s just (there’s that troublesome little word again) that today is the first time the word itself came to mind. How ironic to come to the realisation of the irony of this song after all this time?

I like the use of the word afford. Clearly our country boy is broke, has no money, little material worth, and being a ‘country boy’ he obviously has limited prospects.

The irony is, of course, obvious: if one has a loving heart (or an awakened heart as we reflected on in our last post), what else do they need to be able to afford?

Our friend has most likely earned his loving heart over and over again anyway as he’s lived his life with its inevitable trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows. Riches galore right there. Afford? Of what value are material riches when one already possesses the most valuable asset to which a human being can aspire – a loving heart?

Just thought I’d look up the lyrics to another song I also quote from quite often. It’s also about that ‘all I have’ idea. The song is Words by the Bee Gees. These two lines I like:

It’s only words and words are all I have
to take away your heart

Or, as I might reinterpret it: ‘I know these are only words, but they’re all I’ve got to try to speak to your heart from my heart’.

If I’m to dig deep, be honest, and all that, I would have to say that this idea has been a major guiding force in and for my life in one way or another – whether I’ve been conscious of it or not. As has been aspiring to a loving heart, though that aspiration has at times been bogged down in the mire of the mess of life.

Words are good and sacred, and I’ve always seemed to have a lot of them (it’s not the words that are at fault, it’s the one who uses or abuses them). Really, as I think about it now, all I want is to continue using them – words – to express what’s in this (aspirational) loving heart.

All I can afford is a loving heart.

PS Now I’ve actually truly and really seen the irony in the lyrics, maybe I don’t have to dislike this song quite so much

Lakshmi Visits: Timely Reminders

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Today I have a story to share. It’s one of those stories in which one little random (as if!) event or occurence leads to another, then another. Like life really – one thing leading to another.

When I think about it, this small sharing is very much like many of the other stories I’ve shared: about my prayer life; about realisations and revelations I encounter along the way.

(note from inner editor: Please try to ignore him going on and on like this. You know what he’s like don’t you? You’d think he might find some shorter way to say something so simple wouldn’t you? Something like, that’s why the blog’s called Notes from the Hermit’s Cave and leave it at that. He really should just get out of the way and let me get on with the writing)

Ignoring that little interruption, I will begin our story. Yesterday morning. I was in the very act of opening my Bhagavad Gita to get to some of my inserted prayers, when without thought I turned towards the back of the little book, landing on the second to last page.

On these facing pages I have a treasured image of Lakshmi and on the facing page I have copied a mantra to her that I particularly like and sometimes chant.

Smiling to myself, I thought that, today (as in yesterday) I would spend a little time with Lakshmi.

For me personally, Lakshmi represents the eventual realisation of my aspiration to complete Self Knowledge, the final realisation of the oneness of all things in one absolute reality. For me that says freedom, liberation, Moksha some call it.

So she – who is one more manifestation of the Divine Feminine and the Divine Mother – represents for me that state of peace, bliss, harmony, as well as a perfect balance in both my internal and external lives.

Sometimes when I feel in need of a little extra courage, some piece of missing knowledge, or perhaps I’m feeling the need to persevere with something or other just a bit longer, I’ll think of Maa Lakshmi, and often recite her mantra.

Really, for me, it’s simply a kind of way to remind myself that the courage, knowledge, perseverance, already exist within me. No need to go looking elsewhere.

I’ve read somewhere that many people appreciate Lakshmi’s  fickleness. You never know what she’ll do, what’s actually going to happen.

Which obviously is a way of saying that thinking of Lakshmi can remind you (or me in this instance) that life is like that: it’s all ups and downs, it’s unpredictable in that it gives us things or situations we don’t want, while also frustratingly not always giving us what we do want.

In other words, Lakshmi reminds me that, whatever happens in my life, regardless of my opinions or wishes on the matter, is happening exactly as things are supposed to be. Of course it’s not really ‘fickleness’ is it? That’s just how we see it sometimes as we seem to impose our own human changeability on the Absolute Reality which is just the way it is, no duality!

Anyway, before that pesky inner editor makes another pop-up appearance, let’s move on wth the story.

So, a ‘little time with Lakshmi’ has turned into a perfect illustration of life working out as it does, and not necessarily according to our little momentary expectations or desires. That planned ‘little time’ has morphed into, so far, a full day and a half.

Back to yesterday morning then: I chanted the Lakshmi mantra, then decided to listen to a recording of the mantra I have so I could contemplate what She means to me.

Right away I discovered that the music file was corrupted, and that sent me on a several hour long quest to find a replacement. Suffice it to say that there are what seemed like an infinite choice of candidates to choose from.

But, even after those few hours, I’d failed to find a version that satisfied all my requirements: it had to be a relaxing, clear chant I could ‘sing along to’; it had to be free of bells, whistles, and other superfluous adornments. Above all, it had to feel right.

As I went forward with this quest, I did in fact come across and listen to several lovely versions of the mantra, that while not quite right for my purposes, I did think might make for good and happy general listening.

These – or the links thereto – I emailed to myself and to my hermit partner. I then put the search aside, thinking that the right mantra will eventually turn up.

Not too long after this, I heard coming from the direction of my hermit partner, a truly magnetic and beautiful version of the Lakshmi mantra. You can find the mantra here

‘Where did you find that?’ I asked wonderingly.

‘You sent it to me,’ was the incredulous and puzzled reply.

Really? I honestly had no memory of hearing that particular version, and I still have no idea about it. In any case, once it was forwarded back to me, I set about listening to the mantra through my earbuds.

Blown away, would be one way to describe my reaction. Probably more accurate to say that listening to that twenty something minutes of beautiful music blew me not away, but inwards; completely and utterly to inner depths rarely experienced. Another full story all its own if truth be told. Perhaps another time.

The serendipitous turning to Lakshmi in my little Bhagavad Gita was yesterday morning. And the poem was written this morning as we listened to the mantra itself. A listening, I might add, that has only just now ended as other things required attention. Several hours, in other words, of exposure to beauty itself.

Anyway, my dear friends, what I share now is my response to that listening experience. Or to put it more accurately, the poem that follows is my response to my response.

Hearing the Song of the Universe, is the name of the poem. And it is an absolutely suitable and appropriate title I think.

May you also hear that song.

HEARING THE SONG OF THE UNIVERSE

Om Shree Maha Laxmi Namah.
The beauty of the words, the blessings of the melody,
infuse me with a mood prayerful.
Inner resonance has my Self reverberating
with the rhythm.
With the drumbeats accompanying the voices of angels.
Like raindrops dripping from eaves
after the storm has passed.

Words of praise for Maa Laxmi
meld with the hypnotic wind
emerging from the flute.
Wood and wind,
and angelic voices.
Together they sing.
They sing the song of the Universe.

Tears well at the corners
of the eyes of the worshipping monk.
‘Let it all go.’
The encouraging words
of the Beloved enter the heart of the monk.
Yet, the tears do not fall.
No, not yet.
In the meantime, the monk breathes.

The Hermits (and the Lion) Sleep Tonight

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The Lion Sleeps Tonight. That’s the song name I always think of. Sometimes you might hear it called Wimoweh. While it’s the song’s Zulu title, it’s actually not a real word: it references a mishearing (and subsequent recording by a group in the early ’50s) of Uyimube (the original chorus) which is Zulu for you are a lion.

In any case, I feel like I’ve known the song all my life. I suppose I have: it was a smash hit when I was seven or eight years old. It’s been one of those songs that have stuck, become a constant presence, to be hummed occasionally, to be sung even less frequently, heard rarely, but loved and familiar.

Anyway, recently (in March I think) my affection for the song surfaced. I was thinking about something my partner hermit had said about creativity and suddenly the melody to The Lion Sleeps Tonight came into mind.

That melody, and my memory of the lyrics then became integral to the poem I wrote to express some of my thoughts about my partner hermit’s statement. It helped me say what I had to say.

I hope you like it – the song – Listen to the Tokens doing their version from 1961; check out the lyrics too. It’s a happy song, a reassuring song of safety and love.

With that I humbly offer my poem. Enjoy

THE HERMITS SLEEP TONIGHT

A creative way to start the day.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

In Samsara’s jungle there is a village, a suburban village.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Near the village – no, in the village
the hermits sleep tonight.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

The walled enclosure,
their very own paradise,
like a castle keep,
keeps them safe.
A peaceful way, a peaceful way.

Hush my sisters; hush my brothers.
No need to fear the jungle.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Day breaks; Surya rises.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Sleeping hermits gather, to break the fast.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Fast broken, sacred tea imbibed.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way

The hermits begin, begin their day of prayer.

A creative way to start the day.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Tripping On the Sidewalk

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Walking home, returning to the sanctuary of the hermitage, I fell over. Or to be exact, I tripped.

It’s not the first time I’ve tripped in my life, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Mind you, I’m not supposed to be making speculations about the future; after all, I may never fall over (or trip) again.

Let me share with you how I came to find myself lying on the ground, fully conscious thankfully, with only a few grazes on arms and knees, and a sore spot on the side of my head.

Walking along the sidewalk quite freely, earbuds feeding my ears and my heart my favourite mantra to Ganesha – known as the remover of obstacles and the God of wisdom. (more on the earbud issue later)

At one point I noticed, a few metres ahead, what appeared to be the back of a largish sign board leaning against the base of an electricity pole growing out of the pavement.

Not the actual sidewalk

Without any thought whatsoever, as I came up to that pole, I turned my head to the left to see what the sign read. Next thing I know, is I have the sense of falling. Later I remembered that at the exact moment I turned my head, my foot caught the broken and uneven edge of a slab of the pavement.

I was blessed by two passersby who stopped and helped me back to my feet, and stayed with me as I regained some semblance  of my bearings. Thank you to those two good and kind ones.

Now, I don’t like falling over (well, when you think about it, who does?), but in this case I can say through this fall, I have learned a couple of good lessons.

Presence – or lack thereof. Here I am, the hermit monk who is supposedly constantly practising being present, in the moment, here and now; yet I tripped over what I later discovered was a really obvious, clear obstacle on my path.

We all get distracted, you might be thinking. And, yes, it’s true. We can be paying close attention, fully focused, riveted to and in the moment, and, suddenly distraction barges in – in the form of a thought, an external noise, visual imput, and even a broken pavement. You name it, and mind will use any excuse it can to manifest a distraction.

Another lessen – intimately related to presence –  is pausing, or not! As I noticed that sign coming up, I could have chosen to pause to look at it once I reached it.

Then, rather than being a distraction, looking at that sign would have simply been another moment in the ongoing flow of the present. In other words, there’d have been no tripping.

The actual earbuds in question

Now, to the earbud issue. To be honest, my earbuds have more or less replaced my regular over the ears headphones. Because I was never comfortable going out and about with those clunky things on my head and earbuds have allowed me to listen to music pretty much whenever and wherever  I go. Even to me wearing them, they are barely noticeable. It’s possible that’s the problem right there: unnoticeable.

More than 30 years ago now, I spent every Tuesday evening for a year attending classes at a school of philosophy . To this day I still follow some of the practices I learned there. And, passed to me were so many good lessons, so much good knowledge drawn from many of the world’s spiritual and intellectual traditions. So many of these lessons have stuck with me.

Presence, or rather the benefits and rewards of realizing  the present is all there is, was I would say, one of the cornerstones of those teachings.

One illustration about presence concerned driving, and although at the time I haddn’t learned to drive, it resonated with me. Our teacher told us that, when she was driving, she never listened to music or anything else. She told us that she simply put her full attention on the task at hand: driving.

She described how it often happened that when driving she’d reach her destination with little or no memory of the actual act of driving or any landmarks or events on the trip itself. She said it was if she was somehow unconscious, yet still able to drive ‘on autopilot’ was how she put it.

And of course it’s not a phenomenon limited to driving: how much of our routine daily activity runs on autopilot?

Anyway, back to the other day and me grooving to Ganesh in my ears and tripping in a moment of inattention.

I don’t recall being distracted by the mantra in my head, or moving on autopilot. But, thinking back, I was in one of the busiest sections of the little town that hosts our hermitage. I’d been to the supermarket, the parking lot of which is as busy – and crazy –  as one you would find in any big city.

Just another sidewalk tripper

So, I realise now, I had already kind of set myself up to fall for any distraction that happened to come along. While I don’t really remember myself as being ‘unconscious’ of my surroundings or of the path itself, clearly I wasn’t completely there, not in the here and now sense if you know what I mean. Just an after thought: who remembers ‘being unconscious? Nobody I think!

Whatever I say now, I wasn’t present; I wasn’t fully in the moment, not paying attention to either what I was doing or what was going on around me.

Since my little trip, I have vowed before my hermit community to not ever walk again in a built up and busy area wearing my earbuds.

Not only do I have a sense of danger lurking when I think of the idea of wearing them in those situations, but I also feel that it’s not exactly being present, in the here and now is it?

Another closed cafe on some other trip

Okay, I am very sure you are waiting with great anticipation to learn what what fateful sign, put in my way by the Universal Traffic Controller to push me into changing direction, actually said:

It was a handwritten advertisement for ‘great coffee’ to be had in a cafe across the road. A closed cafe I might add.

On Main Road –  a road that more than lives up to its name –  perhaps there are worse fates awaiting the inattentive than merely tripping on the sidewalk.

A Love Song to a Love Song

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Deceptively simple is how I’d thought to describe the lyrics of a love song by John Lennon I heard again recently for the first time in years.

But, no I thought straight away, that’s not right. The message of the song is simple, and the lyrics convey that message to us just as simply.

Of course why the song is so powerful – and personally significant to me and so many others – is that, while the message may be simple, the ramifications of really hearing the lyrics, really digging the words and trying to put them into action, are far from simple or limited and have few if any boundaries of any kind.

The one word title of the song I’m talking about says it all: Love. Lennon included Love on his first solo album with the Plastic Ono Band, which was released in 1970. So not actually a solo album, but you know what I mean.

The original purpose of this post was to share with you a poem I wrote in response to reconnecting with this masterpiece.

While I will still be sharing that poem, I thought I would first let you see the lyrics of Love put together through my own listenings to the song itself. No copyright breach is intended here. I only print the lyrics for illustration purposes, and besides, if you can’t share a song called Love, by John Lennon, what can you share?

If before or after reading the lyrics you prefer to actually listen to the song being sung by John, then just head here for a great early version.

Love is real, real is love.
Love is feeling, feeling love.
Love is wanting to be loved.

Love is touch, touch is love.
Love is reaching, reaching love.
Love is asking to be loved.

Love is you,
You and me.
Love is knowing
We can be.

Love is free, free is love,
Love is living, living love.
Love is needing to be loved.

You see? Simple lyrics, simple melody, but the message! It’s all about the message. Or is it an invocation? A love mantra?

Mind you, the song is presented in such a light-hearted and gentle soft manner, that it might be easy for some to dismisss the message as being merely wishful or fluffy thinking. But, there really isn’t anything fluffy about love is there?

Now, to my response. Well one response among many I should say. I offer this poetic effort in humility and gratitude – indeed, in and with love.

‘Cos as John wrote in another great anthem:

All you need is love

Peace from Paul the Hermit

JOHN WROTE A LOVE SONG

John was a singer and a writer of songs.
John was a friend of mine – yet never known personally.
Yet known by me all my life.
A fab friend for everyone.

John wrote songs, songs he sang,
lyrics given life by voices
very few heard.
It was hysterical.

He wrote a love song, a song I heard and loved.
In fact, a whole lot of love songs he wrote.
One verse, in that one song, caught my ear, snatched at my heart.

This is the verse,
    the stanza I love:
       Love is you
       You and me
       Love is knowing
       We can be.

No sickly, sweet sentiment this.
Not like some plastic bobble-head
lurking in some grubby rear window.
No, as the song he wrote says:
Love is real.

Love not for the sake of getting it right all the time;
Love not for the sake of always looking like the good guy;
Love not for the sake of a distant and cold devotion;
But love,
Love for you alone.

Me & My Senses

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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

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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.

Let the Music Play (Reshared)

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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.

Mother Mother Ocean

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Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all