(not necessarily in that order)
This morning I participated in a special, all-community work day at Crystal Hermitage. Lots and lots was accomplished, but now all that fresh air and joyous activity is conspiring with a long week of late hours on the computer and making it impossible for me to keep my eyes open long enough to write much of anything.
As one of Swamiji’s songs says: “Sleep is calling…”
Sharing yesterday’s story has me thinking a lot more about my Italy touring experience. That brief period of my life was filled to overflowing with blessings but also fraught with intense spiritual growth. I hope to distill some of that experience into future blog posts, but for now I’ll just share a photo. Can you believe how young we all were?!?
A wonderful memory popped into my mind out of the blue today; a real “highlight” kind of experience that I was happy to revisit…
For a couple of years back in 2002-2004, I had the great blessing of touring with an Ananda singing group in Italy. There’s a lot that could be said about the overall experience, but for now I’ll stick to this one particular performance.
We did quite a few school concerts, having a lot of fun sharing Swami Kriyananda’s children’s songs, many of which had been translated into Italian. On this particular day we were in the Italian city of Lucca, performing for an elementary school.
In addition to children’s songs, we also shared one of Ananda’s most popular and accessible chants:
Gioia, Gioia, Gioia,
Sempre nuova Gioia.
Joy, joy, joy, joy,
Ever-new joy, joy.
And–oh, how those children took to it! The energy grew bigger and bigger, the students clapping along with the chant with great enthusiasm and exuberance.
But at a certain point I had the subtle but clear intuition that the energy was on the verge of veering out of control; that if we tried to just stop, the children would be left agitated and restless–the last thing one wants when dealing with an auditorium full of elementary school students!
Following unexpected–but ultimately very helpful–inner guidance, I raised my arms above my head and started swaying back and forth to the chant. After a few moments the school children and their teachers followed suit. We were still having fun, but the noise level immediately dropped a few decibels and the energy started to refocus.
After some time, we dropped our arms and continued swaying back and forth in time with the chant. Chanting more softly, we gradually moved less and less until we weren’t moving at all. And, incredibly, the entire auditorium of young children went right along with us.
There was definitely a dynamic and powerful presence that filled the space as we finally brought the chant to a close. Looking back, I think we spontaneously harnessed the energy and helped everyone bring it back inside.
What a uniquely powerful, flow with the present moment, never to be repeated experience, for which I am sooooo grateful.
Tonight my mind is blank, maybe because I was on the computer literally all day long. Whatever the cause, instead of writing I’ll share some beautiful music from Swami Kriyananda’s exquisite album, Secrets of Love.
The piece is titled Love Is the Voice of Stillness and I especially appreciate the way Swamiji conveys the very essence of stillness. As I listen I find myself imagining that this could be what suspended animation would feel like.
Have you also had the experience of feeling like someone just turned up the speed dial of your life? As if you were a 33 rpm record (remember those?!?) but someone switched the setting to 45 rpm?
Well, that’s how today felt to me, which I guess is why–while meditating at the end of the day–the image of Lucille Ball and the candy conveyor belt just popped into my mind. I’ll include a clip of it below, in case you’ve never seen it.
After laughing through a couple of viewings of the video I feel much better about just taking things day by day and doing my best to keep up. Ha ha ha!
While writing yesterday’s blog I was mostly focused on everything that was on my plate, or the music ministry’s plate, for the 50th.
Tonight we had an all-community satsang about the 50th, our last chance to all gather in one place, hear the latest updates, and understand more fully the scope of the endeavor. The amount and range of details required to pull this off is astonishing!
But here’s the thing: yesterday I was mostly feeling overwhelmed while tonight when I left the gathering I was filled with joy and enthusiasm. Even after hearing about all the work that still needs doing to be ready in time.
I think the difference is that my focus shifted from my little reality to the reality of being part of a spiritual community that gets things DONE with love, energy, grace, and a whole lot of joy!
In short, we’re living the truth that “many hands make a miracle”!
Ever since last fall we’ve been doing our best to gear up for The 50th (aka Ananda’s 50th anniversary and Temple dedication event)!
In early spring the pace picked up and the planning process intensified. It’s been Topic #1 in the music ministry office for months.
All along we’ve known it was going to be “Big”, but sometimes you can’t conceive of just how BIG an event like this could be! I guess that’s why, with less than a month to go, I’m feeling like we’ve barely scratched the surface of what we need to do to get ready.
My top priority for the next twenty-eight days? Remembering to breathe.
I love this quote by Shel Silverstein; it’s been on my mind lately…
“Listen to the Mustn’ts, child, listen to the Don’ts.
Listen to the Shouldn’ts, the Impossibles, the Won’ts.
Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child, Anything can be.”
And while researching to make sure I had it right, I found another one of his poems that’s new to me, yet really resonates…
“Underneath my outside face
There’s a face that none can see.
A little less smiley,
A little less sure,
But a whole lot more like me.”
I guess the trick is to grow more comfortable with sharing that “underneath” face; I’m pretty sure we’ve all got one. 🙂
The main thing on my mind right now is sleep…and the fact that lately I haven’t been getting enough it (a side effect of writing daily blog posts, as I tend to write at night, then stay awake into the wee hours)!
So here’s a beautiful melody of Swami Kriyananda’s titled Temple of Sleep. It’s from his Egyptian song series, which was inspired by a pilgrimage to that country.
This song is a great example of Swamiji’s ability–his gift really–for infusing a song with consciousness. When we were recording this CD I had to concentrate really hard not to drift off into sleep consciousness!
More recently I’ve used this song when I was feeling anxious and having a hard time settling enough to go to sleep. It definitely worked.
Sweet dreams!
I’m not all that surprised when I receive enthusiastic and supportive comments about my blog posts. After all, I have enthusiastic, supportive, loving friends.
What does surprise me a little are the comments about me being a good writer.
Now you have to understand…when I was in school in California (many, many years ago!) the educational process was in a bit of an experimental phase. I vaguely remember having a spelling class in seventh grade, but in eighth grade my “English class” consisted of being on the yearbook team. In high school I had one semester of creative writing and a year of journalism. And that was it.
Nouns, verbs, and adjectives were the extent of my grammatical understanding, although I had a fairly developed sense of what looked and sounded “right”, thanks to being a voracious bookworm.
My early musical years were also somwhat skimpy in terms of formal instruction. I always played music (piano, then flute, a switch to saxophone, and finally back to flute again) and was in bands with a number of fine young musicians, but I didn’t have any private lessons until I was almost twenty years old. And my high school–which was very new and very small–didn’t have a strings program, so I wasn’t exposed to orchestra until college as well.
But, having a certain amount of natural talent, loving music, and not knowing what else to do, I threw myself wholeheartedly into my musical studies…feeling all the time like I was playing “catch-up.”
So I did recitals, played in orchestras, earned my bachelor’s degree in flute performance, played in better orchestras, did recording sessions, played tons of wedding and parties, graduated from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music with my master’s degree in flute performance, subbed with the SF Opera orchestra, auditioned for the SF Symphony, and even performed as guest soloist with a couple small orchestras. But here’s the thing…I never–EVER–felt “caught up!”
This was all pretty subliminal until the afternoon when I was lamenting (yet again!) having missed out on studying a particular set of student-level flute etudes. My dear friend and flute colleague laughed and said she wished she could validate me by rubber stamping my forehead with FLUTIST in big letters–etudes or no etudes!
But here’s the thing: if I had those kinds of doubts about being a flutist–even after all my hard work and experience–how could I possibly consider myself a good writer when I haven’t done anything to deserve it?
Wow…even as I wrote those words I could feel in my heart that there–right there–is where my real work lies. Getting beyond having to be “deserving” and opening up to simply “being”. And letting it all be okay just the way it is.