There’ve been a few times over the past ten years or so when I’ve found myself reflecting on my jazz band days and recalling key experiences from that time.
Near the end of my saxophone playing days there was an arrangement of the jazz standard “Bill Bailey” that I remember as being quite challenging. I’m not sure why it kept coming to mind periodically but I’ve wished I could revisit it in order to remember what made it so hard.
I tried to find it a few years ago with no luck, but for some reason it came to my mind again tonight and this time I found a video, performed by a jazz band of young musicians from Barcelona, Spain (of all places)!
Listening to it validated my memory of it being challenging, but let me tell you, these young folk nailed it!
And to top it all off, I even stumbled across the actual sheet music. Totally fun.
We spent the afternoon driving around Milpitas…revisiting old haunts and simply remembering.
The top photo is 1853 Conway Street, our family home starting from when I was five. Fifty years ago it was only one story, there was no brick fence, and the shade tree was much, much smaller.
Our driveway pointed straight up Greathouse Drive (photo below), so this was my view every time I walked out of the house. It was nice to see that it hadn’t changed hardly at all.
Stunned is how I felt when I saw the headline announcing the death of Sen. Dianne Feinstein.
It wasn’t that I was surprised she had died; after all, she was 90 years old.
No, it was more to do with the fact that she had such an impact during my years as a young adult living in San Francisco, and was indelibly connected with tragic events that rocked my world at the time.
I’ll never forget the moment in November 1978 that I parked my car in front of my apartment and heard her tell reporters that, as president of the Board of Supervisors, it was her duty to inform them that both Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk had been shot and killed by Supervisor Dan White.
It was shocking in and of itself, but coming as it did so soon after the murder-suicide of over 900 People’s Temple members in the Jonestown massacre, it left the entire city feeling completely traumatized.
I wasn’t fully conscious of it at the time, but as I grieve Dianne Feinstein today, I can inwardly feel the truth of what she said years later: “I hope I projected a calm stability, regardless of whether I felt it myself.”
As a flutist, I had several opportunities to observe Mayor Feinstein up close, during events at City Hall or elsewhere. I even played for a private party at her home. I don’t recall that I ever actually met her, but I do remember being struck by the power of her presence and magnetism.
Of course, it was in the San Francisco Chronicle that I was reading about DiFi this morning. Despite not having lived in the City since 1999, I’ve never acquired the habit of reading any other newspaper. The Chron is another entity that is indelibly connected with who I was and, I guess, still am in some ways.
At any rate, I was deeply moved when I read Dianne Feinstein’s description of how she hoped her legacy would be perceived: “A simple thing. That she did a good job, that she really does care, that she’s been able to solve a lot of problems.”
You definitely achieved your legacy; rest in peace, Dianne.
It was our first time back — both to the location and to teaching at the program — since March 2020. In fact, we were poised to go up and present our class when the word came down that everything (pretty much in the world) was cancelled!
So, it was great to be there and it was also a little surreal to think back and remember how so much changed at that time…virtually overnight.
Statue at Ananda Village of Yogananda blessing the world (photo by Bhaktan Klippstein)
“Remember this: When I am gone, only love can take my place. Be absorbed night and day in the love of God, and give that love to all.” — Paramhansa Yogananda
…and honoring those who lost so much, as well as those who gave so much that day.
As intensely shocking as it all was from a distance of 3,000 miles away, I can’t even imagine the trauma experienced by those on the scene.
But I find comfort in the stories of people reaching out and helping strangers in a time of such tragedy. And I pray for the continued healing of this deep wound.
I was in second grade when JFK was assassinated. I remember the teacher calling us in from recess to tell us the news. I remember seeing my father cry.
I remember pulling into a parking spot in front of my SF apartment as Dianne Feinstein came on the radio to announce that Mayor Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk had been assassinated at City Hall. It was barely ten days after the mass suicide at Jonestown in Guyana took over 900 lives of People’s Temple members, many of them from the Bay Area.
I remember the shock of Sept 11.
During each of these traumatic events I struggled to make sense of a world that seemed to have turned upside down before my eyes.
Worst of all was the day I learned that my baby had died in my womb at the very end of a perfectly normal pregnancy. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced and I don’t know how I would have made it through if I hadn’t been consciously on the spiritual path for some time before it happened.
I was a member of Unity then and I had a strong connection with my church family, as well as a deep commitment to studying the teachings.
One of the prayers I had learned went like this: There is only one presence and one power active in all the Universe and in my life – God, the Good Omnipotent.
I knew it and prayed it and believed it. But when my baby died I was forced to put it to the test. Was I going to throw out my belief because I was so angry with God? Or was I going to lean in and grab on to it as my anchor in a sea of anguish?
You can probably guess “which way I broke,” as they say. And maybe you can also guess why I’m thinking about that prayer today.
Yes, I have been profoundly disturbed by the events in our nation’s capital today. My mind reels and I’m struggling to make sense of it all. But I know from experience that I have a choice. I always do.
So I choose to believe in and to focus on that one presence and power. I choose to remember that it is active in all the universe and in my life, in all lives. I choose to know that it is God.
We’re being put to the test. What do you choose to believe and to focus on right now? 🙏
Days like today are such a wonderful opportunity to remember…
….that, no matter what, every person on the planet is my spiritual brother and sister.
….that, no matter what the world looks like, the ultimate reality is that it’s all made out of God. As my Science of Mind practitioner used to say: “There is no spot where God is not.” and “You can’t get outside of God.”
….that, no matter the centuries of misunderstandings to the contrary, God is love, God is light, God is Peace. And if there’s no spot where God is not, that means there’s no spot — anywhere — where love is not present. True, we human beings are really, really good at hiding it and disguising it and denying it, but love is still there. Just being love and waiting for us to allow it in.
Even though I don’t particularly enjoy it, I do appreciate the fact that times like these are a blessing in the sense that they force me to build up my spiritual muscle. It’s not always fun, but it is getting me closer to the goal.
I’ve cherished this postcard (pictured above) for more than thirty years because it touched me so deeply when I first saw it, even years and years before I found my true spiritual path. And I’m feeling it more and more with each passing year.
The peace of God is my one goal the aim of all my living here, the end I seek, my purpose and my function and my life.
Quote from A Course in Miracles (Foundation for Inner Peace)
It’s been a very long while since I felt any real affinity for Halloween. I feel more resonance with the multiple day observance of All Hallows’ Eve, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day.
Of course, I didn’t have much awarerness of anything except Halloween until well into adulthood. It was as part of a women’s group that I was introduced to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, which took place the night before All Saints’ Day, when the veil between the worlds was believed to be lifted. This eventually became what we know as Halloween.
And it was while I was living in Europe that I learned more about All Saints’ Day (La Festa di Ognissanti) and All Souls’ Day (Il Giorno dei Morti or the Day of the Dead). What a difference from Halloween, which had been fun as a child, but for adults seemed to just be an excuse for a silly sort of excess.
So I really appreciate this more meaningful holiday, which encourages me to remember with love my dear ones who have passed on.
