I’ve been pondering that elusive “something” that happens when people make music together. The key point here being “make music together,” as distinct from “play (or sing) music at the same time.”
This has been on my mind lately because many of our Ananda singers and musicians fall into the second category and I’m not sure how to help them find their way into the first one.
Why does it even matter? Well, imagine you want to make a cake. You find a recipe and gather your ingredients — flour, sugar, eggs, etc — and put them all in a mixing bowl. As you stir the ingredients, they lose their original form, gradually blending together into something new. All the ingredients are still there but they’ve been transformed into something different, something more.
But how would the cake turn out if, before being put into the mixing bowl, each individual ingredient was placed inside it’s own plastic baggie? You could stir and stir and stir, but your ingredients would never blend together and transform into a delicious cake!
At the same time, I have to admit that I would love to be in Switzerland right now. Especially if I could be walking beside my father-in-law, Silvio, and enjoying these incredible mountain views.
I just discovered John Roedel’s God and John Facebook page (thanks to my friend, Erin!) and I’m loving the wisdom and insights.
Many of his posts are pretty long — thought provoking and profoundly moving, but too long to give you a taste in a blog post. But here’s a fairly short one that will give you an idea…
Me: Hey God. God: Hey John. Me: My past is holding me down. God: That’s impossible. Me: Why? I feel tied to it. God: Your past doesn’t have any fingers. It can’t tie anything. You’re the one who has knotted it to your wrist. Me: I’ve made too many mistakes to ever be free of it. God: Forgiveness begins with the simple act untying yourself from who you used to be. So you can be free to fly away and become something beautiful. Me: Here I go… Guilt: Bye John. Me: I’m floating! God: Enjoy the view! ~Author: John Roedel
My friend, Bharat, just had a birthday. And thinking about him on his birthday brought to mind a precious memory.
It was San Francisco; late 80’s or early 90’s. I was pursuing my career as a classical flutist, including regular coaching sessions with Robin McKee, associate principal flutist of the San Francisco Symphony.
During one of her visits back East to see her husband (who was principal flutist of the Baltimore Symphony at the time), Robin invited me to house sit at her home in Mill Valley. It was a beautiful spot — quiet, woods all around, and with an amazing stereo system!
This was a period of intense inner processing and growth for me, so the break from my regular routine felt like a real blessing. I particularly remember spending hours sitting in the living room, which as I recall had huge picture windows with bird feeders; some comfortable seating; a coffee table of some sort; the amazing stereo system; and a few bookshelves.
It was simplicity. It was soothing. I sat there for hours: listening to music, gazing out the window at the trees and the birds. And reading a book I had found there, titled Listening to Nature.
Unity was my spiritual home in those days and I had recently been introduced to the concept of tithing to the source of inspiration; from whatever organization or person from which I felt spiritually fed. Well, I was so deeply touched by Listening to Nature that I just had to send a tithe check to the author, whose name was Joseph Cornell. Of course, I had no idea who he was or where he lived, so I mailed the check to Dawn Publications with an explanatory note.
Years later — after I finally found Ananda — I made the connection and realized that Joseph Cornell (aka Bharat) had provided me with my very first experience of Master’s vibration, through the work founded by Yogananda’s direct disciple, Swami Kriyananda.
Thank you, Bharat, for that precious gift. Happy birthday!
I find this quote particularly meaningful as I think about the state of the world right now. It also reminds me of what Swami Kriyananda taught us about not focusing on changing those who are negative, but giving energy to the positive ones.
I was struck by a recent Seth Godin blog post, in which he addresses something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. It’s titled A new normal and the take away message I got from it is that every moment brings its own “new normal.”
True, some are more dramatic and far-reaching than others, but we experience them repeatedly throughout our lives. At the top of my personal list of “events that turned my life upside down” are the breakup of a serious relationship in my early twenties; the death of my mother; and the stillbirth of my baby.
I think what’s adding to the current challenge is that it’s not just my life that is turned upside down — it’s everything. When it was my own unique personal tragedy, I could find comfort in the continuity and steadiness of life all around me. But nowadays it can feel like there is no continuity; that there’s nothing steady.
So of course we wish things would get back to normal! Or as Seth puts it: “We’ve got a deep-seated desire for things to go back to normal, the way we were used to.”
But I find myself thinking about how people must have coped during wartime — as in bombs falling and cities being invaded and “life as one knows it” being completely and utterly destroyed. That gives me some perspective.
In these truly unprecedented times, I’m trying to deeply accept the fact that all bets are off. The lessons we’re currently faced with used to feel optional but now they’re absolutely compulsory: Be here NOW. Appreciate the present moment. LOVE, period.
As Seth says at the end of his blog post: “There’s simply the normal of now. A new normal. This too shall pass.”
After the India benefit concert and a first date pizza, it quickly became clear that Ramesha and I were destined to be more than a temporary “item”. I lived in Assisi while he was in Lugano — a 7 or 8 hour drive — but we managed to get together pretty often. He would sometimes join me when the Ananda Singers performed in northern Italy and I would take the train to Lugano when I had enough free days in a row.
But remember the India pilgrimage I was raising money for? It was scheduled for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, which allowed devotees who were teachers to participate. Unfortunately, that meant Ramesha (a middle school teacher) was going, together with thirty or so other dear friends — many of them the core of Ananda Europa’s music, while I was needed at the retreat to “hold down the [music] fort” over the holidays.
I’m sure you can imagine our angst at having to spend our first Christmas apart! I traveled to Lugano in early December so we could celebrate early, then we made our tearful farewells until early January.
One of Ramesha’s last text messages to me before he flew to India was something about having “scaring thoughts”. I didn’t know what to think, but figuring it must be an English language thing, I put it out of my mind and went back to missing him desperately.
We made it through the 3-week separation (with only a little drama) and I traveled up to Lugano again to see him after the New Year. My brief visit was greatly extended when Ananda Assisi was subjected to a raid by the Guardia di Finanza, making it safer for me to remain where I was (a big drama; but that’s a story for another time).
Although concerned about happenings at our Assisi community, we enjoyed the additional time together and in early February he proposed (I said yes, of course)! We consulted with our friend and astrologer, Drupada, for the most auspicious wedding date and started making plans to fly to California in the summer. And this is when things started getting interesting…
I believe it was in April that I raised the question of what we wanted to wear for our wedding. Ramesha’s response was: “Don’t worry about it.”
Ummm….excuse me? “Yeah, it’s all handled. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Whoa, what just a minute! What do you mean, “it’s all handled?!?”
At which point he says: “You’ll understand when you get your birthday present.”
Now, friends, my birthday is June 20. And our wedding was scheduled for July 5. I’m pretty sure I remained calm and loving, but I definitely made it clear that he had better let me see my birthday present NOW. Which (thank goodness!) he did, and — as you’ve probably already guessed, the birthday present was my wedding sari!
Come to find out, the “scaring thoughts” he was having before leaving on pilgrimage were because he already knew he wanted to marry me — even though we’d only been a couple for about six weeks at that point. He told me about how at each shrine during the pilgrimage he would pray to Master about it and the answer was always “yes”.
Then he arrived at Yogananda’s childhood home in Kolkata, where one of Master’s descendants by marriage had a business selling clothing, and he was inspired to purchase our wedding outfits there. This despite the fact that he hadn’t yet proposed to me!
And that is the story of my beautiful wedding sari. 🥻💞
I really am going to share the story of my wedding sari, but — as I started setting the scene and putting things in context — I realized that I’ve already written that part of it! It’s the backstory for a CD we created…read on to learn more…
Once upon a time a flutist-turned-singer from San Francisco moved to Italy to be part of a singing group. She met many wonderful people while she was there, including a young violinist-guitarist-singer from Lugano (Switzerland). They were acquaintances, who–over the course of a year–became good friends.
Sharon (the flutist/singer) was hoping to go on pilgrimage to India and decided to organize a concert to help raise money for the trip. Fabio (the violinist/guitarist/singer), wanted an opportunity to get to know her better, and was already planning to spend that very week at Ananda Assisi (where she lived).
This gave Sharon the great idea to ask Fabio if he would join her on the concert, which he did. They had one day to rehearse, of which perhaps one-fourth was dedicated to the music, while the other three-quarters was spent talking..and laughing…and talking some more!
This is a recording of that concert, which was amazingly well-received, though truly, the music seemed almost besides the point. More important was the birth of a collaboration which led, a day later, to an official “first date”, followed within the year by a wedding and the forming of The Harmony Duo.
Now known as Bhagavati (Sharon) and Ramesha (Fabio) Nani, they recently celebrated the 16th anniversary of their marriage, and are still laughing and talking and making music together as music ministers and co-directors of Ananda Music Worldwide.
P.S. Bhagavati’s music duties in Assisi kept her from going on the pilgrimage to India that year, but her India Benefit CD is once again available (on a donation basis) for anyone who’s interested.
And tomorrow…the sari story (which is not a “sorry” story)! 😂
Been feeling slightly “off” all day. All I really want to do at this point is go to bed — maybe even early!!
What I don’t have patience for is waiting for our suddenly really slow internet to function. Which means my wedding sari story has to wait yet another day (hope it still feels worth it once I finally get it written)!