This is one of the happiest songs I know. Absolutely perfect for Spring!
Words by Shakespeare; music by Swami Kriyananda. 🌷
One down, one to go!
Yep, this is us beaming after our first shot of the COVID vaccine. Feeling both happy and relieved.
It was quite the scene today at Sierra Family Medical Center, with lots of Village residents and Ridge neighbors patiently waiting their turn to get jabbed.
There was definitely a high, upbeat energy all around. We are soooooo ready to be able to sing, to attend Sunday service in person at the Temple of Light, to visit family, and to simply put all this behind us.
We’re grateful to have taken our first step down that road and look forward to step #2 in just a few weeks.
Bubbling to the surface
As we draw closer to the first day of Spring, I can feel things…well, speeding up isn’t quite right. Neither is heating up. I guess quickening is the closest I can get in words.
It’s the sense that more and more is happening beneath the surface, getting ready to flow forth in a great bubbling flow of creativity and expression and newness.
It’s a hopeful, expansive feeling.
I love Spring!
Repeat after me: you are doing okay.
Yeah, today was one of those kinds of days. It just felt hard, and occasionally combative. My back hurt, and I felt overwhelmed.
Plus, I was at one and the same time grateful for the rain and also bummed that it was raining.
But I appreciated this reminder that things have been hard for a long time, but I’m still accomplishing a lot even in the midst of it all.
So, yeah, I’m doing okay. And I think you probably are, too!
In honor of St Patrick’s Day
Amazing to think that I recorded this back in January of 2000, when I was very new to Ananda. I still remember how the beauty of this melody transported me to someplace mystical and magical.
I didn’t really know the words then, but they’re wonderful poetry as well. You can hear Ramesha sing it here (lyrics are below):
EMERALD ISLE
Come hear, while I sing you of emerald hills,
Of valleys and meadows so fair
That all who have seen them have carried away
Memories in their hearts, friends, like the lilacs of May:
Oh, my song is the story of the lilacs of May.
My song is the story of deer on the hills,
Of larks that soar, seeking the sun,
Of nightingales lifting the curtain of night
As with music they bring down heaven’s blessing of light:
Oh, my song is the story of God’s blessing of light.
Come join me in singing of that emerald isle,
Of flow’rs that, like jewels, besprinkle the lea,
Of waterfalls eager to embrace the wide sea
As we with our Maker reunited would be.
Come hear, while I sing you of emerald hills,
Of valleys and meadows so fair
That all who have seen them have carried away
Memories in their hearts, friends, like the lilacs of May:
Oh, my song is the story of the lilacs of May.
–by Swami Kriyananda
On a roll and in the flow
It took a while to get the ball rolling and the juices flowing, but now it’s suddenly 9:00pm and I’ve got to stop!
Feels good to be getting things accomplished again.
The moment we knew
There’s been a lot of reflecting these past few days on having reached the one year anniversary of the “official” start of the global pandemic. Many of the articles have to do with people remembering the moment when they finally “got it” that the virus was a game-changer and we were all headed into absolutely unknown territory.
For me it wasn’t one moment but a series of inexorable steps in the process of coming to terms with the unimaginable.
We were in full scale Oratorio preparations — our very first in the new Temple of Light! Rehearsals were going well and we were all so excited. We had a rehearsal on March 10, the day before the WHO announcement. Needless to say, we haven’t had a full choir rehearsal since.
At first I was scrambling to find a solution; I simply couldn’t wrap my mind around the possibility of not being able to present the Oratorio. Maybe we could reduce the size of the choir. Maybe we could spread out. Maybe we could do it with just eight singers and no further rehearsal. Of course, our Village management team and medical advisors weren’t taking any chances.
No Oratorio, period.
Then I read the article about the infamous choir in Washington state, where a full three-quarters of the singers became ill with COVID-19 after a rehearsal in which they sat farther apart than usual, didn’t share music, and really tried to be careful. Several choir members died.
I guess if there was a moment, that was it.
I certainly can’t complain about this past year. I live in a beautiful rural setting; in a loving and supportive spiritual community; with a husband that I actually enjoyed being “stuck” with day after week after month(!); and we’ve stayed completely healthy.
There’s also been incredible, expansive growth on so many levels, for which I am very grateful. But my heart isn’t completely whole and I’m not entirely myself without making music with fellow singers and musicians, then sharing it with the world.
Soon, soon…
The flowers are all laughing
Nayaswami Bharat gave a wonderfully inspiring talk this morning. At one point he shared about the palpable aura of love he felt in nature while hiking in a remote mountain valley, and it brought to my mind a somewhat similar experience I had many years ago.
Of course, the location was the opposite of remote! I was living in San Francisco; a basically cheerful and optimistic twenty-something student at San Francisco State University, finishing up my undergraduate degree in flute performance. Certainly I had my share of normal young adult angst, but hey! I was living in the city I loved; I was immersed in the music I loved; and I was more or less high on life.
One of the best things about living in The City was that it was absolutely fantastic for walking. I spent hours a day walking on Ocean Beach and through various neighborhoods, enjoying the moderate temperatures, the mystical fog, and the beautiful flowers and trees everywhere.
On this particular day, I was walking through the SFSU campus, enjoying the sunshine, and feeling good, when I remember being literally stopped in my tracks by a bunch of flowers.
I mean, they were just part of the campus landscaping, but something about them was so, well, vivid…! They were beyond beautiful, beyond “alive.” I just stood there for a while, marveling, and wondering.
Then I went on about my day, but it stayed with me. To the point where even now — close to forty years later — I can practically see those flowers — and feel that feeling — again. In fact, I believe I caught a glimpse of the truth expressed in this verse from one of Swami Kriyananda’s songs:
There’s joy in the heavens,
A smile on the mountains,
And melody sings everywhere.
The flowers are all laughing
To welcome the morning;
Your soul is as free as the air.
Yes, I believe I had the good karma in that moment to (somehow!) open up and receive the joyous consciousness of those flowers. What a blessing.
Thinking about hugs tonight…
…and eagerly awaiting the day when we can freely hug one another once again.
The Phantom Tollbooth
I just learned today about the passing of Norton Juster, the author of The Phantom Tollbooth, one of my favorite books as a child (and young adult!). I was probably in my thirties before I finally stopped re-reading it, eventually even letting go of my old, dog-eared copy.
But as soon as I read the news, all the wonderfulness of the book started coming back to me. Milo’s journey to the Lands Beyond. Getting lost in the Doldrums. The arrival of Tock, the “watchdog.” The Princesses of Rhyme and Reason. The Spelling Bee and the Humbug.
Of course, my favorite memory is Milo’s experience substituting for Chroma the Great, a conductor whose orchestra creates the colors of the world. How my imagination thrilled (then and now) to such fantastical ideas!
Well, I guess now I need to go buy another copy and read the entire book again.