I absolutely love living in the midst of a forest of magical, golden oak trees at this magical, golden time of year.
Of course, I’ve been admiring dramatic red, orange, and yellow foliage for weeks. But there’s something about the more subtle, muted gold of the oak trees that really does it for me.
Especially since there are so many of them here, so I end up feeling surrounded by golden magic.
At any rate, this was my view as I went to get into my car shortly before sunset this evening.
It’s been quite the journey and the process has seemed to take forever, but the live recording of last year’s Oratorio is almost here (the release date is December 1st, but it can be pre-ordered now).
We had a particularly wonderful ensemble rehearsal last night. We were working on two songs that get sung a lot throughout the Ananda world — Life Is a Dream and Home Is a Green Hill.
There have been moments when I’ve heard someone say that they get “bored” singing these songs, but I can’t for the life of me understand how that could be. It’s not just that the songs are beautiful in and of themselves; it’s the profound meaning in the lyrics and the deep consciousness that they convey.
As we worked on details and dived into subtleties — with various singers offering insights and making suggestions — it seemed that each song gradually yielded up its secret treasures.
And then it happened — that exquisite moment musicians live for: when the music itself takes over and you feel like you’re slightly outside yourself, observing the music happen through you. At least, that’s how it felt to me. I can’t speak for the other singers.
When we reached the end of that particular run-through of the song, there was only silence and stillness. No one moved for a glorious, blissful, eternal moment in time.
And that — to me — is the absolutely best kind of rehearsal.
Below are the beautiful lyrics to Home Is a Green Hill, followed by a recording of Swami Kriyananda singing it.
Home is a green hill, home is a wind Blowing betrayal, far, far away. Home is the knowledge heaven is near, Home’s the end of the fray.
Home is my heart’s land, home’s where I am; Nothing can dim the light of my soul. Home is forever, home is today, Home’s a heart that is whole.
Often I dream that life is a play: Laughter forever and skies never gray. But when I’m silent, freed from all care, I discover my home’s everywhere.
Home is a green hill, home is a wind Blowing betrayal, far, far away. Home is the knowledge heaven is near, Home’s the end of the fray.
It was a three-vaccine day! Another big step towards getting my immune system completely back up to speed after last year’s stem cell transplant.
As I was thinking about it this evening, the image of a fortress came to mind — signifying that my body’s defenses are getting back into full fighting mode.
I saw this on Facebook. Here’s what the original post said:
For all my East Coast friends & family who say – “Oh, we’ll be in Los Angeles – why don’t you drive down for a visit !” We are on the coast where the “o” in “Sacramento” is.
I haven’t spent all that much time on the East Coast, but I’ve certainly experienced a similar challenge when I try to convey just how far apart things are in California (much less the whole of the United States!) to friends and family in Switzerland and/or Italy.
Every point on the globe has its own unique “reality,” which is why I’m so grateful for the opportunity to travel and even live in places so different from where I grew up.
A few weeks ago we “scored” this new (to us) table.
Being round (instead of rectangular), as well as larger than our last table, we needed a rug update.
Of course, it couldn’t be simple!
For purposes of colors and matching, the rug that was under Ramesha’s desk needed to be relocated in-between dining and living room areas. Then the rug that was under the original table needed to go under Ramesha’s desk.
Then we had to unpack and roll out the rather large new rug.
Needless to say, it ended up being a rather chaotic morning, as we moved furniture and cleaned areas that are usually inaccessible.
Then we drove to town for an afternoon of errands.
I’m going to have no problem getting to bed early tonight. I’m pooped!
As a former professional musician/freelancer, I’m continuously struggling to overcome a lifetime of erratic hours and late night habits in order to establish more of an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine.
So, when the time comes to fall back and regain the hour we lost in the spring, my latest strategy is to pretend nothing changed. But in the back of my mind I’m counting on the fact that I can set my alarm a little earlier without it feeling so early.
By the same token, when the clock says 10:30 p.m., my body feels like it’s 11:30, which –hopefully — makes it easier for me to get to bed on time.
My seclusion has ended and I’m back in the flow of life’s busyness.
But I spent a good portion of a week in silence, by myself, meditating, seeing beauty around me on my walks, enjoying every quiet moment…and I’m going to do my best to carry that peace into my daily life.
