A lot of things in the world of Ananda (and thus of Ananda Music) are shifting and moving and evolving. It’s rather disorienting, especially since some of it is big and involves other departments, which means months worth of development and implementation to get it right, while also figuring out the best way to function in the meantime.
For years we’ve been stretched (way) out of our comfort zones as directors and managers, and now I feel (fear?) it’s about to ratchet up another few notches. We’re getting into so many projects that involve ever-increasing knowledge of technology, finances, marketing, global issues, etc…seemingly ad infinitum!
On the one hand I believe we may very well be on the verge of absolutely amazing new things for Ananda Music. But on the other hand, I’m beginning to feel like I’m reaching the limits of what my musically-trained, flute-player’s brain can cope with.
I can’t stop myself from trying to capture the beauty of fall foliage, although I end up deleting most of the photos I take.
I’m no photographer, for starters; just someone snapping pics on my smartphone. But more to the point: how does one capture the essence of beauty? I find it’s more a matter of what I feel when I gaze at the foliage, than whatI’m seeing.
What I feel is the urge to be those amazing colors, against the intense blue sky…the very essence of autumn, to me at least.
These last two photos are of the sight that greeted me when I stepped out of my car at work today. Except it was a hundred times more vivid in real life.
I guess the urge that I feel to be the colors, the leaves, the sky is a sort of reminder, from the part of me that remembers what it was to be one with all that is…and can’t wait to get back back there.
Pondering (yet again) the seemingly eternal question of how to get myself to go to bed earlier. The fact is that I recently made a commitment to be in bed, with lights out, by midnight. The commitment is to myself, but the decision was made together with a health professional as part of figuring out a healing protocol for me to follow.
The truth of the matter is that for decades now I’ve been sabotaging my health by not allowing my body the downtime it needs to rest, repair, and rejuvenate.
The evidence is clear: consistent lack of sleep screws up your hormones, results in weight gain, and contributes to a whole slew of other health issues. Of course, it doesn’t help that the resultant tiredness and lack of vitality also undermines your willpower, making it harder to stick to your good intentions to eat better and exercise and so on.
Then I got to thinking about another commitment I made not so long ago — the commitment to write a daily blog — and the fact that, in five months, I haven’t missed a day. That’s great and I feel good about it. But unfortunately, these two commitments have been conflicting with one another. Because if I don’t get the blog written early enough in the day and end up on the computer late in the evening, it’s almost guaranteed that I’ll get to bed really late as well.
So here’s the new deal. If I don’t have the blog written by 9:30 at night, all I get to write is an acknowledgement of the fact that I don’t have time to write because I have to get ready for bed! That way I’ll be honoring both my commitment to write the daily blog and my commitment to giving my body a chance to heal.
Of course, there’s a part of me that objects to this plan on the basis that I won’t be writing something “interesting” or “insightful” or “inspiring”. But my daily blog commitment isn’t to always be “interesting”, “insightful”, or “inspiring”! It’s simply to write something every day. Now to see if this works!
Had a nice breakfast visit with some friends this morning and got to talking about music. I shared how I had recently “revisited” the music of my youth, appreciating anew the “jazzy harmonies, intricate rhythms, perfect intonation, and tight ensemble” of bands like Chicago, Blood, Sweat & Tears, Steely Dan, and Earth, Wind & Fire. But then I lamented the fact (as it seemed to me) that those kinds of bands were gone forever.
But I stand corrected! Christian turned me on to the group, Snarky Puppy (yes, their name is a little unfortunate, but it’s all good). Actually, he raved about them…and he was right! From what I’ve heard so far, it’s more straight ahead jazz; no vocalists, no lyrics. But oh the horn section! The amazing musicianship! And the fascinating melodic/harmonic/rhythmic explorations! Extremely satisfying.
The arrangements remind me a little bit of my big band jazz days, only more…of everything — which is as it should be, forty years of development, technology, and evolution later!
I feel heartened, somehow, by the clear commitment and joy level of this group. I can’t quite explain why it makes me hopeful, but it does. Thank you, Snarky Puppy!
About a month ago a friend reached out to her larger community on Facebook, sharing her feelings of brokenness and grief, and asking for help. My heart went out to her and I felt to share a poem that meant a lot to me; a poem that resonated deeply many years ago when I was going through an extended period of profound loss. Just today I learned that it resonated for her as well, for which I am sooo grateful!
Now I’m feeling to share the poem here, in case there’s anyone else out there who needs the comfort it offers. I’ve been reading it for going on thirty years and it still teaches me and moves me to tears. And, thanks to the miracle of the internet, I was finally able to find out who wrote it! Her name is Rashani and she seems to be quite an amazing, inspiring woman.
The Unbroken There is a broken-ness Out of which comes the unbroken A shatteredness out of which blooms the unshatterable There is a sorrow beyond all grief which leads to joy And a fragility out of whose depths emerges strength There is a hollow space too vast for words Through which we pass with each loss out of whose darkness we are sanctioned into being There is a cry deeper than all sound whose serrated edges cut the heart as we break open to the place inside us which is unbreakable and whole. All the while learning to sing. —Rashani
Trying out some new strategies for improved posture and earlier bedtime. Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best!
One factor in this new approach is to continue writing my blog posts earlier in the day, so that I’m not as likely to still be writing it into the wee hours. This will also help my posture, since the later it gets, the more likely I am to be slouched over the laptop at the dining room table!
Another part of this strategy has to do with figuring out how to treat myself with the compassion, patience, faith, and encouraging words that I would give a friend or student or even a stranger who came to me for help. In other, pretty much anyone beside me!
It’s crazy really, how hard it is for us to be sweet and gentle with ourselves. There’s the real work. Sigh.
Real life application: Something was said this morning that brought my energy down. I could feel it sinking all the way to my toes. Definite feelings of discouragement.
I was in front of a computer, so I decided to pull up yesterday’s blog post and played Dare to Be Different three times through in a row. Then I played through Secret of Laughter and When You Come from Napoli a couple of times each, just for good measure.
Felt much better! But I guess that’s not really a surprise. 🙂
Our Living Discipleship music classes have been centered around the idea of Music as a Spiritual Tool, focusing tonight on the “tool” of the Music Antidotes. Keep reading to learn more about what, exactly, the music antidotes are…
“Around 1998 or 1999, Swami Kriyananda had the interesting insight that many of his songs, on a vibrational level, were “antidotes” to specific negative emotions. He then went through his book, Secrets of Emotional Healing, and prescribed a song to about two-thirds of the entries. On the surface, some of the prescriptions don’t seem to make sense. When you tune into the vibrations of the song, however, you can feel those vibrations transforming the specific emotion and lifting its energy to a higher level of consciousness, thereby raising you out of that emotion altogether.”
Here are the four songs we listened to in tonight’s class; we all experienced shifts in our energy, but I encourage you to listen and test it out for yourself!
Song: Peace Negative emotion: Anxiety Secrets of Emotional Healing – Day 2: The secret of overcoming anxiety is to do your best in the present, without attachment to the outcome, knowing that whatever is yours by right must come to you sooner or later, and that all else, even if acquired, will prove evanescent.
Song: The Secret of Laughter Negative emotion: Depression Secrets of Emotional Healing – Day 3: The secret of overcoming depression is useful activity, devoted selflessly to helping others.
Song: Dare to Be Different Negative emotion: Discouragement Secrets of Emotional Healing – Day 7: The secret to overcoming discouragementis not to brood: instead, act! Uplift your heart’s feelings. Stand upright; inhale, and with the inhalation draw courage upward from your heart to your forehead; then exhale, and cast out of yourself all mental weakness and negativity.
Song: When You Come From Napoli Negative emotion: Mental Dullness Secrets of Emotional Healing – Day18: The secret of overcoming mental dullness is to train yourself to say “Yes!” instantly, whenever your impulse is to grumble, or to cry, “No!” Welcome life in all its variety and challenges. Like the petals of a daisy, keep your heart open to life’s experiences. Overcome within you the tendency to rejection and withdrawal.
After my positive lyrics, raise-the-energy-through-dance phase, I managed to get myself back on track enough to return to SF State University and finish my undergraduate degree in flute performance. Thus began the intensely classical music period of my personal music history.
Three specific instances capture what I now believe was the true significance of this phase of my life…
The first was when I went to the library at SF State to complete a homework assignment for a music theory class. This was waaayyyy back when you had to go into the library, check out the vinyl LP, then take it into a little room in order to listen. I had been procrastinating for some weeks, but finally forced myself to go do the assignment.
Well, I dropped the needle and started listening to the first movement of the Brahms violin sonata #1 in G major…and promptly burst into tears. I had noidea what was causing such an deeply felt response, but I sat there and played that first movement over and over again. It was as if all the beauty in the world was coming through the opening measures of that sublime melody and my heart simply couldn’t contain it.
I finished my undergrad degree that year and went on to get my Master degree in flute performance from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I played in orchestra and chamber music ensembles, did recitals, and played lots and lots of weddings and other “gigs”. I especially loved playing the music of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Tschaichovsky, Dvorak, Prokofiev, and other favorites too numerous to list!
Living in San Francisco as I did, I also spent a fair amount of time attending concerts at Davies Symphony Hall and seeing the ballet and opera in the War Memorial Opera House just up the street.
The second powerful memory from that time was a San Francisco Ballet performance of Stravinsky’s Firebird, in which the choreographer depicted the Firebird as a revolutionary male figure rallying his partisan comrades. It was downright stark, with a bare stage, drab partisan costumes, and a simple red unitard for the Firebird. But it captured the essence of Stravinsky’s score and amplified it in a way that was absolutely thrilling to me. I still remember it all these decades later (the video contains only the last five minutes or so of the ballet, but you might be able to get an idea of the power of it all).
The final memory I want to relate took place in Davies Symphony Hall at the end of the London Symphony’s performance of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. I haven’t said much here about Mahler, but his music really spoke to me in those years. And the Fifth Symphony…!
Well, suffice it to say that at the end of the performance I sat in my seat unable to move, I was sobbing so hard. It was actually embarrassing because that’s just not the typical behavior of symphony patrons! But I couldn’t do anything different because I felt like the music had turned me completely inside out — mind, heart, and soul.
In retrospect, I believe this is the significance of this period of my personal music history. Music had helped me raise my energy; now it was helping me crack open my heart and ignite the deep yearnings of my soul.
